Photo by Kristine Noland.
Words, books, libraries. I’ve been infatuated with them as long as I can remember. As a kid, I devoured book after book, swept up in the lives of characters inhabiting worlds so different than my own in rural Minnesota.
I knew early on I wanted to become a writer someday. I wrote some terrible rhyming poems, created stories about an animal-loving heroine named Annie Mall (my penchant for puns—and alliteration--started early), and took great pride in the literary analysis I included in my sixth-grade book reports.
As a teenager, however, I also discovered my passion for foreign languages, overseas travel, and social justice issues, and began a long detour through the field of international human rights. It was rewarding, important work alongside some amazing people, but the travel much less enjoyable after I became a mom.
I left my job at the end of 2017 to spend more time with my kids, and in the process, journeyed my way back to the world of children’s literature. Though there’s a lot to learn about craft and publishing, writing picture books doesn’t feel like launching a career in a brand-new field. It feels like coming home.
I live in Minneapolis with my husband and three sons.
“Because for some of us, books are almost as important as anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you.”