I am a California native and spent a great deal of my childhood outside. There, I helped my dad net smelt along the beaches of Half Moon Bay, collected sea glass in Aptos, and fished the lakes in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. When I wasn’t outside, I was in my Nonni’s pink kitchen eating lots of meatballs at family dinners, or I was at school writing short, blood curdling stories and staring out the window. A lot.

By the time I was fourteen, my parents had decided that city life was for the birds (well, not really the birds, just very busy people, which they no longer wanted to be) and we moved to Grass Valley, California.

Having spent my summers camping, it wasn’t much of a shock going from all those cement sidewalks and fast-food restaurants of the city to wide open fields, snow, and the giant cedars in Grass Valley. There I discovered that football games in a small town are as important as eating your vegetables and that you can have snow days in California. I also discovered that geese know how to run, and if you are still and quiet, you can watch a family of deer graze together under the pine trees.

Having my own kids, combined with this deep love of the mountains, was wonderful inspiration to write stories for children. It took me a very, VERY, long time, and I learned that sometimes worthwhile things come with a journey that is just as important as the worthwhile thing you’re trying for. Sort of like a two for one deal.

I now live in Southern California with my family, two rats, three cats, and one fluffy old dog.