About Me: The short version: I never really grew out of playing pretend. The long version: I was a painfully shy kid. As in, can't talk to boys in elementary school without my face flaming up such a deep shade of crimson that even the meanest kids felt too bad for me to tease me. Somewhere around...
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About Me: The short version: I never really grew out of playing pretend. The long version: I was a painfully shy kid. As in, can't talk to boys in elementary school without my face flaming up such a deep shade of crimson that even the meanest kids felt too bad for me to tease me. Somewhere around the third grade, I got put alone in a class, separated from the only three girls in the world I could talk to. It was a massive crisis for me, isolated at recesses and lunchtimes. So I turned to my old friend, the written word. Sure, some would say I should just make new friends, but why do that when there was a whole world of characters that I could meet between the pages of books. Pretty soon, I was writing stories as well as reading, and by then there was no looking back. Years went by. We moved a few times, and by high school, I was a voracious reader and still writing, but now I was not quite so shy. I'd found a valuable new weapon to combat my deep seated insecurities: feminism, armed with a healthy dose of sarcasm. You don't like me? Ha! Let me give you a reason to not like me. I still needed the books, but I was not writing so much. I was too busy finding deep meaning in Sylvia Plath and reading works examining psychological processes to have much room for creativity. Party on, baby. Somehow, in college, I managed to meet the sweetest man, evidently blind to how I was, because let's face it: I was mean. What's more, he fell in love with me. How lucky was that? We married, and right away, had three boys. The ardent feminist suddenly didn't want anyone else raising her kids, so I became a stay at home mom. I'm sure the big man upstairs fell out of his chair laughing with the irony. Suddenly, my life consisted of changing diapers and cleaning up after kids, and while yes, those things matter, I was horribly bored. I returned to my old standby: words. I started writing again, but by the time my third and last baby started kindergarten, I felt like I should go back to school. I've spent the last four years showing my kids the importance of finishing school before you have kids (sorry guys...Mom's got to study.) and am now in Graduate School. I got my BA in Middle Eastern studies, speak Arabic, and lived in the great country of Jordan for a while. I love the Middle East, and especially love Arab people. My home will always be America, but part of me still longs to go back. This last year, I wrote yet another book, and decided I'd do it for more than just me. It's been such a giant mixed bag of emotions, but I've loved it.
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