I’ve always dreamed of writing and illustrating books. When I was ten, a fifth-grade essay contest gave me the confidence to proceed. From there, to having my first short story published in a Ririe, Idaho high school newsletter, to simultaneously working for two local newspapers, one regional paper, and freelancing for several periodicals during the early ‘90’s, I’ve found great satisfaction in the craft of writing. My greatest blessings, however, have come from meeting the people whose stories I’ve helped to tell.
I’ve gleaned a great appreciation for people in all walks of life as I’ve learned first-hand that every soul on this earth has something of value to impart to the rest of us. In my works of both fiction and non-fiction, I’ve tried to bring the philosophies and ideals of those I've interviewed not only onto the printed page but into the hearts of my readers. I will never forget the courage of aviator Ralph Glasgow, the passion of railroad enthusiast Delone Bradford Glover, the determination of my own grandfather, inventor H.L. Wiese, or the faith of pioneer candy maker Annorah Coleman Boden. These individuals are among just a few of the wonderful people who have touched my life and made me want to strive to reach my personal best. As my writing efforts have expanded, an unanticipated bonus has been the relationship I’ve formed with my readers. I am grateful for their support and for the cards and letters I’ve received from all over the world.
As much as I love writing, and my various art and photography endeavors, my family is paramount in my life. I am married to a wonderful man who is a firefighter and together we have four children, two granddaughters, one llama, two Huskies and one loveable mutt. Snowmobiling and hiking are two of my passions. My grandmother, Esther, was the most phenomenal woman I’ve ever known. Throughout my life she loved me and believed in my potential, helping me find the e courage to be who I am. A few years ago, when I was photographing her for the book Hearts and Hands, I told her how beautiful I thought her hands were. She studied them for a moment and then remarked that they were the result of a lifetime of “hard work and innocence.” When I reach her age, I hope I can look at my own hands and know -- in whatever I’ve written, drawn, painted or photographed, or in any of the ways I’ve touched the lives of others -- that I’ve worked hard and done all I could to be the person I was supposed to be. |
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