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I grew up on a small ranch in the Goleta Valley, just north of Santa Barbara, California. Because I was an only child I became, in some respects, my father’s “son.” John Greene taught me the beauty of the land—about the feel of moist loam in my fingers, the smell of tomatoes almost ripe, the taste of walnuts just fallen. He taught me to trap gophers and climb the tallest branches of the avocado trees—places he couldn’t reach with his picking pole. Wind rushed through the eucalyptus with a shiver, the creek roared at flood, and always the land gave us a painting of a thousand water colors.

When I was in college I met Peter Eastman, who taught me the beauty of the sea. We were drawn to it, to taste its depths and its glories, to cross it. Does crossing it imply conquering? No one has ever conquered the sea or the winds that can whip it into a fury. Pete and I were content to live as disciples to the sea and wind, to take their lessons and to use their forces to carry us around the world. We circumnavigated in Wa, a 28-foot sailboat, in 1971-73.

Pete and I had two children, Addie and Peter, who now is Trout Fishing In America. I became a single mom in 1977, stayed home until the children were in school, got an associates degree in computer science in 1985, and changed careers when I was in my early 40s.

Writing always has been my passion. After making my living as a journalist and technical writer for nearly 25 years, I returned to writing fiction when I retired to Ashland, Oregon in 2000.