Renmark, South Australia, Australia
To many, the concept of travel is exotic. Too much however, can push naivity full circle and it can be a lonesome place. Born in Australia and travelling here extensively before leaving for Britain, with little stops along the way, some whirlwind of jet-lagged surrealism took over. By age fifteen, I found myself alone in Canada, fending off childhood in lieu of survival. Youth is not wasted on the young! Not really! Thinking back, I had amazing experiences under protective wings of many good people. Travelling the North American continent, as a free spirited observer, yet missing the chortle of magpies and the scent of wattle, I finally returned home. To my surprise, the experience gained is filed into segments of dispursed legitimacy. How can one person have done so much? From working in television to ranching and riding in Government jets. Assisting Teens at Risk to Graphic Design. Surely, I must be exagerating! It's wonderful and not necessary to be believed. But it does seem silly sometimes, as a single mother of two boys, that I'm not 367 years old. So, I began writing. At first to retain contact with my scattered family, and then as my own therapy. Finally, I decided that if my social world gagged me as a fairy tale wanna' be, then perhaps I should hone that idea and develope a novel. I have done that, and am pleased. It's my hope to become a legitimate author. An odd sense of irony perhaps.
Interests: Just about everything tickles my sense of reason, logic and emotion. Admittedly, my preference is family.
Published writer: No