Books have always been my friends--sometimes my best
friends. My father was in the Air Force and by the time we
finally settled in California my freshman year in high
school, I had attended seventeen different schools. I
hadn't just read about alligators or the Black Hills or
West Point or the Pacific or Atlantic oceans, I'd seen
them. Trust me, this kind of thing can set a kid apart.
With books such a special part of my life, you can imagine
how I felt about the men and women who wrote them. They had
to be anointed beings, far too special for anyone like me
to even consider becoming one of them. Still, I wrote,
almost as a compulsion. If a teacher assigned a three-page
essay, I wrote ten. A ten-page assignment once encouraged
me to turn in ninety. You can imagine how popular this made
me with the rest of the class. One summer while everyone
else was outside doing the things kids do in summer, I
stayed inside and wrote a play. I found it the other day
when I was cleaning out a closet. It went right back in
when I was finished.
The way I finally started writing seriously is almost a
cliché among writers. I read a book that frustrated me so
badly I tossed it aside and announced, "I can do better
than this." With those words I started down a road that
wasn't nearly as easy as I'd believed, especially with the
detour I stumbled onto when I signed up for a writing class
that led to eight-years as a freelance non-fiction writer
and photographer. But with fiction my first love it was a
given I'd return someday.
Now with twenty books behind me, I've begun to think of
myself as a genuine storyteller. I like believing I'm part
of a long and honorable tradition. Somehow it sounds better
than telling people I sit in a room by myself all day and
talk to imaginary friends.
I've been married to the same incredible man for over
thirty years. He's my personal hero as well as a hero to a
lot of other people who he's helped in his career as a
firefighter. We have two sons who have added immeasurably
to our lives by marrying amazing women and producing four
of the world's smartest, best behaved, most talented, and
When I'm not writing I like to garden and travel and wander
around one-of-a-kind shops looking for Christmas ornaments
to add to the collection I started thirty years ago.
Christmas is a big deal at our house, lots of fun and
family and tradition. It's going to be even busier this
year with the publication of Another Summer, which comes
out in December. I love this book and loved returning to
The Beach House to visit old friends and make some
really special new ones. I hope you enjoy the journey, too.
Let me know. I'd love to hear from you.
Books:The Beach House: Coming Home, May 2017
Return to the Beach House, May 2014
A Beach House Novel
Carly’s Gift, September 2013
Things Remembered, October 2012
The Year Everything Changed, September 2011
Beach House, May 2009
If I'd Never Known Your Love, April 2007