I was born and raised in Chicago. I became literate in spite of Mrs. Jackson who made us diagram sentences but never taught us punctuation. Undaunted, I wrote short stories on our trusty Royal typewriter and sent them off to magazines whose editors suggested I resubmit them when I grew up. Instead, I became a teacher, got married and had three sons.
I spent years working in non-profit organizations providing healthcare and cancer support which warmed my heart, but not the rest of me, during the long, cold winters. When our sons heard “go west,” they did, and we pursued our dream to live in Mexico.
For the past two years, my husband Bill and I have split our time between San Pancho, Chicago and California. Now, I’m lucky enough to have friends who love to write and who know where to put the commas.