I was born in a small farm house in the Canadian Appalachian Mountains.  Although picturesque it lacked simple modern trappings; plumbing and electricity.  I didn’t know we were poor as I ran through golden fields of wheat and corn rows that seemed to reach for the sky.  My imagination flourished as I waded in streams with pollywogs, gazed at the heavens decorated with magical stars and fire flies.  I slept in a tiny straw bed and I often heard the wind crying in the white of winter.  Fireflies in glass jars, grasshoppers in my pockets and dreams in my heart, that’s where it all began.   We immigrated to the United States when I was ten.  In adulthood, I married and raised four wonderful children. I became a citizen, obtained a Master’s degree and worked as a psychotherapist until I became disabled.  I often wonder back to my Appalachian home to pen my novels, it’s where dreams were born.