Who am I?
I was born, raised, attended college, and married in the Mountain West. Though I loved the four summers I worked in splendid Jackson Hole (maid, waitress, front desk clerk) and at one time thought I’d live my life in the shadow of those mountains, I have made my home in the Puget Sound region—another splendid place--for many years. My grown son takes care of himself (and me sometimes) these days, so I give my attention to writing, to reading, to gardening, to occasional meals with my Sanity Sisters, and to making quilts.
Where do I get my story ideas?
Early on, ideas for short stories often came from snippets of conversations I overheard waiting my turn at the grocery store or bank. Now, many of my ideas come when I’m working in the yard.
The sudden image of Woolley Thyme’s last scene brought me off my knees and into the house to get it on paper and sketch the characters. Twigs and clumps of mud came with me, but I needed to get the idea on paper before the image faded and another took its place. I still love that ending. Parts of Her Two Cents came so often when I was outside that I finally keep a tablet near the back door so I wouldn’t track mud into the house.
The On the Beach ending came as I made a path in my yard, planning a trip to the beach so I could fill buckets with the flat, red beach rocks I needed.
A Room Without Books started because a friend was late for lunch and I was left watching the staff. The tall young lady clearing dishes from the table had the most lustrous black hair I’d ever seen; it moved and shimmered as if it had a life of its own. And, yes, she did have an inch of belly showing each time she leaned over to reach the back of a booth. She will never know she prompted a love story just by doing her job.
The sudden image of Woolley Thyme’s last scene brought me off my knees and into the house to get it on paper and sketch the characters. Twigs and clumps of mud came with me, but I needed to get the idea on paper before the image faded and another took its place. I still love that ending. Parts of Her Two Cents came so often when I was outside that I finally keep a tablet near the back door so I wouldn’t track mud into the house.
The On the Beach ending came as I made a path in my yard, planning a trip to the beach so I could fill buckets with the flat, red beach rocks I needed.
A Room Without Books started because a friend was late for lunch and I was left watching the staff. The tall young lady clearing dishes from the table had the most lustrous black hair I’d ever seen; it moved and shimmered as if it had a life of its own. And, yes, she did have an inch of belly showing each time she leaned over to reach the back of a booth. She will never know she prompted a love story just by doing her job.
ENJOY
I hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoy writing them!
J. Roylance Kraske
Updated 9/2016