Small children love to hear stories, and I was no exception. My mother didn’t tell her own stories, so my bedtime stories came from books. I loved the books the stories came from, the look of the covers, the smell of the pages. Before I could read, I snuck books into my bed to sleep with the way other kids slept with stuffed animals. When I grew older, I took a flashlight with me so I could hide under the covers and read. I knew someday I would write the books and tell the stories. I dreamed of having my name on the cover of books, of going into stores and meeting my fans at book signings, of traveling the world to “research” my next novel.

I still love the stories and the books. But my reality has deviated from the dream. I’ve never written a book, a short story, or even a poem. My husband is an author, as are many of my friends. Other friends are working on making their dreams of publication a reality. I admire each and every one of them. I simply haven’t joined them.

My husband and I live in a log cabin, tucked away in the Ozark hills of Northwest Arkansas. It’s an idyllic setting for a novelist to hide away in and write, if you don’t mind staying home when the creek rises. Or having no internet access, because the cables don’t come out this far, and the satellites can’t receive a signal down in this holler. No TV signal either, for that matter. But we don’t view these as hardships—we are from a generation that grew up without computers, and children weren’t allowed to spend hours in front of the television. We do have indoor plumbing, and even electricity… we aren’t completely out of touch with the times.

We both grew up in this area, in the next county over. The town where we attended high school had less than 1500 people then, and you mostly knew the same kids all through school. Some of those people are still in our lives, and we consider ourselves fortunate because they are the people who made us what we are today. My husband is my rock star and has four published novels so far, and promises me there are more to come. He tells me I can write, that I should write, and I know he’ll guide and support me along the way if I choose to try. We shall see.

Along my life journey I managed to stumble into the world of writing, an exciting world populated by authors and artists, publishers and libraries and bookstores. I admit that it happened with the help of my awesome husband. I am currently the Marketing Director for Oghma Creative Media, a publishing house based on the principle of putting the authors first. We aren’t a “vanity publisher”, where anyone can pay to have a book published and call all the shots. We are a traditional publisher who understands that without talented authors and artists we have nothing to publish and sell. We work closely with the authors to help them achieve success, and think of ourselves as one big, mostly happy, family.

But this blog isn’t about the company, or even the industry. I love what I do, I love the people I meet and the places I go. This blog is about my amazing life on the fringes. Will I talk about Oghma Creative Media? Probably so. Will I do my best to introduce you to the authors and artists we publish, as well as others that I meet at conferences? Of course! Will you find book reviews on here, as well as shameless plugs for writers, books, and events? Absolutely! But this isn’t a place for sales and marketing. It’s a place to show you what life is like behind the scenes of my world.

So grab a comfortable chair, settle in with a warm quilt and a cup of tea, and let the stories begin.