Born in 1957, my family had moved four times before I was four. When I had my own children, we moved ten times while my children were small. So I have always felt like the outsider, never quite sure what to expect or what to do. Like a fast food junkie invited to a royal banquet, it’s like I’m always checking what cutlery to use and regretting my choice of clothing.
As a child, the aim of my day was to spend time on my own telling myself stories. Not much has changed really.
I wrote the “Prairie Patchwork” when I was doing a job that I hated. (Thankfully I worked part time which gave me one afternoon off a week.) For three hours a week, I visited another time and place and met some other people. I couldn’t tell them what to do but I tried to solve their problems. Everyone needs a place to escape and this was mine.
Currently I am writing short stories on completely disconnected themes except that most of them have a positive if not a happy ending.
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