This is a picture of me in a Plexiglas box suspended more than one hundred stories above the Chicago skyline. Why am I telling you this? As you may be able to detect from the expression on my face, I’m terrified of heights. But I stepped into this box with complete faith in the engineers who designed it that it would keep me safe. Writing is a lot like stepping out in faith as well. When you put ideas down on paper and send them out into the world, you worry that they’ll fall flat and fail to touch any readers. But like the engineers who designed the box, you’ve got to have the same assuredness in the engineering of the story—that the characters are strong, the plot will hold up, and the hope of getting a new view on life is worth the risk of stepping out into that clear, soaring platform in the clouds.
Before I took the leap into writing full time, I earned a living at various stages of my life as a translator, instructor, editor, and reporter, not to mention other, less glamorous positions. Having studied Russian Language and Literature at a small school in Boston, it soon became clear that I would have to leave my New England roots to find employment in my field, which is how I ended up in Maryland. I now live on a small horse farm with my husband and daughter and many beloved animals–the care of which takes up a considerable part of my day–but it’s a job I love.