I grew up in the South. In the warm glow of my grandmother’s kitchen I learned about stories. The ones she told, the ones I’ve always known, the ones I would later try to tell. I also learned about books there and for as long as I can remember I scribbled in a notebook and called myself a writer.

When I went to college at the University of South Carolina I majored in journalism because I thought I could get paid to write and I did. I worked at newspapers for a while back when pagination was a new thing and the Internet was a distant dream.

I went to graduate school to focus on writing and came out with a master’s degree in literary nonfiction from the University of Oregon. In 2001 I moved to Montana with my boyfriend at the time for a one-year job doing journalism research.

Almost 10 years later I’m still here no longer doing research but married to that boyfriend. In that time I’ve worked mostly in the nonprofit sector doing communications and marketing work for organizations in Missoula while keeping alive an active freelance writing business.

In Missoula I’m pretty far away from my grandmother’s warm kitchen but I still hold her stories close and, with two tiny daughters at my feet, try to tell them as best I can.