So, here’s where I tell you about me. This, for those of you who’ve never written a bio on yourself before, is actually a very tedious and boring activity.

If you want the short version, it’s basically this: Born in Michigan, loved to read, grade school, high school, a year in Brazil, college, still loved to read, moved to Texas, started to write.

And now, the long version:

I was born in a small town in Michigan in November in the year none-of-your-beezwax. My mom was overjoyed; my dad slept through the whole thing. He excuses himself from this egregious offense by claiming exhaustion, seeing as how my mother woke him when her water broke at 4:00 am and didn’t actually give birth until after five that evening. Personally, I think he should have made more of an effort to stay awake, and I remind him of this less than auspicious beginning to our relationship as father and daughter whenever I want something. This actually works out pretty good, since I now own half his motorcycle.

Two years after I came on the scene, my parents decided they’d done such a good job the first time that a second kid might be in order, so they had my sister. Soon after her arrival, they decided two kids was plenty. My sister doesn’t think her presence had anything to do with that decision; out of pity, we let her believe it.

So I grew up in this little town in Michigan, suffering through a parochial education, playing softball, and fighting like cats and dogs with my kid sister – you know, normal stuff. And I read a lot –I was a serious book addict. My mother would kick me out of the house in the summer with the directive “Get some sun, for God’s sake – you’re wasting away!”, whereupon I’d drag a chaise lounge into the driveway with my current book, and stay there until Dad came home from work, honking the horn to get me to move out of the way.

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