I was born on the edge of Charlotte, N.C. in a time, in a neighborhood where children were free to play. My friends and I ran, biked, explored. The entire neighborhood was a stage for our continuing games of pretend. Cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, British and American,Yankee and Confederate armies romped through woods, across fields and creeks, up and down streets until good guys prevailed or softball and hopscotch season arrived.

Then I grew up and went to the Woman’s College of the University of North Carolina in Greensboro, where I majored in history and economics. Involvement in a series of strikes by textile workers led to graduate work at Cornell with a masters in Labor Union History and several years of union organizing in the South for the International Ladies Garment Workers Union. After marriage and the birth of my son and daughter, I moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts, worked at jobs where I could punch out—stitcher, machinist, assembly worker, candy maker, database designer, assistant economics journal editor—and still have the energy needed for the real work of political organizing for social and economic justice.

My political work took the form primarily of writing and editing for movement publications, and when I moved from Cambridge to a farm in rural north central Florida, I began writing for the Ocala Star-Banner and Gainesville Sun, then founded the Williston Pioneer, where I was publisher, editor, reporter, ad salesperson and janitor.

But I’ve come to the conclusion that writing fiction is more truthful than journalism. So now I hide in my woods making up stories. And I’ve grown restless and decided to explore the world surrounding Williston. That world feeds my stories, here and in my novels.

I also raise goats and pine trees.


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