I live in the past they tell me which translates to ‘I live in my youth’. I suppose there are some books I write, books in which I take from the nearly present. I write about what I remember, and what lies deep within my DNA. I write southern fiction, though I’ve never lived there, but my grandfather goes back generations in the deep south. I write a lot about upstate New York because I have memories of front porches, lively flowing streams and endless winding roads to walk. 

In my women’s fiction I tell the tales that came to me while staring at a garden or listening to the wind that rattled my windowpane and fell on my skin the way the music of yesterday falls on my heart. I write because I want to remember, because I love words first discovered in Victorian Poetry and novels like The Portrait of Dorian Grey and Wuthering Heights. I write because of this love affair I have with the written word and my desire to recall the haunting tales of imagination. My fiction is my way of connecting, of remaining, of expressing what lies in the corners of my mind and in the creases of my soul.