I started writing at one month of age…okay, maybe a little later than that, but I can’t be exact because my math skills didn’t kick in until I needed them for important things like shopping. Probably I was around three when I penciled those first priceless words that my parents threw away as meaningless scribble. That’s when I started to read. Fred Bear and the Honey Pot I believe it was -- proving I was into romance even way back then, though in truth that title sounds more like erotica. What were my parents thinking?

I was a pain in the butt through school. The dux, the lead of school musicals, school treasurer. (They didn’t make me girl president because they figured the boy president wouldn’t get a word in if they did.) But I was never made a prefect. No, in fact I was the rebel most likely to be cornered by the prefects and sent to the principal’s office or detention. I think the only reason they didn’t expel me is it would bring the school average down.

My life motto has always been Bite off more than you can chew and chew like mad, which is a good way to miss deadlines and meet dentists. Consequently, I have crammed a lot in. I’ve sailed on million-dollar yachts, played the east coast of Oz with my band Crystal Vision, slept under park benches, shot the rapids, abseiled, lived with locals in Nepal, studied everything from literature to karate, to ceramics to naturopathy and the cosmonology of interstellar astral bodies. Okay, I made that last one up.

I now live on acreage in beautiful Tasmania, the tiny island state off the bottom of Australia. Tasmanian locals reputedly have two heads, which everyone knows are much better than one, though it does get expensive in hats.

I share my life with a variety of creatures both domestic and wild –though none so wild as my son.

Here I overlook the pearly waters of Bass Strait and watch the seasons pass in apples, daffodils, and post-Christmas sales. It’s the perfect place to think, to dream, to write.