Lawyer by day. Writer by night. Recluse in training.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve longed to become a writer, daydreaming of living in a country cottage and slaving over an old typewriter day-in, day-out, while sunlight streams through white-trimmed windows. All with a steaming hot cup of coffee in my hand.
While I’m still working on the whole “living in a cottage” thing, I do indulge the fantasy once or twice a year when I visit my parents in Tasmania and lock myself away in their attic. I don’t write on a typewriter, though, and probably never will – my delete key dependence is far too marked for that to ever be practical. Coffee, though, is most definitely a mainstay.
I’ve adored books ever since my father first read me Norwegian folktales when I was just a wee bairn. The fantastical stories of trolls, huldre, nisse and oskerei captured my imagination and never let it go. As a teenager I loved to scare myself silly reading thrillers by writers such as Christopher Pike, Richie Tankersley Cusick, Caroline B. Cooney, L.J. Smith and Janice Harrell. Their stories instilled in me a love for YA fiction I’ve never outgrown – to this day, my favourite YA series is The Secret Diaries trilogy by Janice Harrell.
When I’m not writing, I’m either watching movies and getting addicted to HBO TV series with my wannabe hubby who moonlights as my muse or chasing my three boys around who masquerade as musketeers or stooges depending on their moods.