My Story

I was born talking. Even before I knew what a story was, I had stories to tell.

Growing up, I learned my bike was the best way to get around the neighborhood and stories were the best way to get around the world. When I wasn't lost in a book, I'd saddle up my bike Nellie Sue style and hit the trails. At the end of the day, I would open up my journal to share secrets with a best friend.

I discovered new trails in middle school and high school that took me from the stage to the football fields. I marched with a flute; I marched with a mellie. I cheered and ran and tried to spike a volleyball. I sang. And I talked a lot. I think I was trying to find my voice (though I'm sure my parents wished I would lose it – especially on those road trips to Missouri or Colorado).

During college, I wanted to major in stories – so I did the next best thing. I majored in English and French – and even lived one semester along the Mediterranean Coast of France.

Back home, I married my high school sweetheart. We moved into a small apartment in Cambridge, Massachusetts and went back to school on opposite sides of the Charles River. After grad school, I needed company on my literary journeys – so I became an English teacher. Turns out, high school students make great travel partners – though they might need change for the vending machines.

Today, I live in central Iowa with my husband James, our four children (Andrew, Anna, Jacob, and Joshua), Greg the Gecko, and a big-eared and big-hearted dog named Mickey. We love to read and bike together, but not at the same time. On fair weather Fridays (after the snow melt), we bike to a nearby Mexican restaurant for supper. We're easy to catch on the way home – an uphill ride with full bellies.

No two days are the same, but every day is full of beauty to see and people to love. Inspiration waits around every bend, from the waking laughter of a child to the silent frost on the branches outside. But when my patience wears thin, with the kids or the frost, or that nasty writer's block lands squarely on my shoulders, I run to the Iowa chapter of SCBWI, the Des Moines Area Writers Group (DAWGS), or a close-knit group of writer friends who meet monthly for cookies – and critique.

Eileen Boggess, Jan Blazanin, yours truly, Sharelle Byars Moranville