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Perilous Pauline in the Rain Forest

Confession time!

Pauline in the rain forest

Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park, Big Island, Hawai’i Copyright by WyoJones. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

One of the things you learn, when you’re an author, is that people ask you to tell “a little something” about yourself and then about your books. I find both equally hard to do.

I grew up in a small town in Wyoming where were taught (or perhaps I was genetically predisposed) to not call attention to myself.

When I thought about writing, it was not about calling attention to myself. I thought all writers hid in small rooms and wrote words. Lol Which is partly true and was well-suited to this hermit. But once you finish writing enough words to make a whole book, that’s when it starts.

Tell us about yourself.

And I can’t tell you how often my mind goes blank at the question. Which is funny if you think about. I mean, I’m me and I know me better than anyone. But is that true? I don’t know.

I have a formal and an informal bio in my press room, which you can access from the footer of this website, but I thought I’d try something different today. I’m going to talk about me and see what I find out.

I mentioned the small town already. It was a very small town in Northern Wyoming. I was the third child of six, the first daughter. (You would think this would help me attain the favorite position, but I was too timid. Haha) When people ask me why I write mayhem, I attribute it to growing up with four brothers (and the other sister who was mom’s favorite). There is much fun and much suffering when you have four brothers (suffering) and a sister (fun).

I shared a room with my sister (the fun part) and with my brothers (sometimes fun often painful part) encouragement, I climbed too high in trees, held rattlesnakes, jumped over dangerous gaps, and slid down rocks that put holes in my pants. We imagined ourselves in castles, space stations and beyond. Did my imagination begin there?

It is possible.

My dad was also a storyteller, though many people who knew him might be surprised to hear this. He was quiet and retiring, but if you could get him talking, the man could spin a tale. They also both read to us. My mom read with much dramatic effect. My dad’s idea of drama was to talk in a louder monotone when things got interesting. We loved being read to by both of them.

I know they fueled my love of reading.

The life my parents created for us shaped and formed, not just me, but the books I have written and will write, though if you asked me how, I couldn’t tell you. I just know it is so.

Did you learn anything about me? I think I might have. Remembering is good, right?

So, now you know a “little” about me, tell me about you. 🙂

Perilously yours,