Writing. Period, end of story. If I am not writing regularly, getting out of bed is a chore for me. If I am writing regularly, I spring out of bed and rush to my computer, excited to get a pot of coffee brewing and get to work on the next scene.

I love experiencing things and learning new skills and information. I currently belly dance and own a horse, but in the past I have learned hypnotism, played drums in a local band, learned to draw, studied herbalism, taught a basic dog obedience class, learned to sing, AND I read tarot cards. I also love to swim, hike and camp. And read. I am a voracious reader. I just learned that the earth may experience something called crustal displacement, causing the continents to sort of twist in and out of polar regions, meaning that Antarctica may once have been "Atlantis." (Meaning home to an advanced, "prehistoric" civilization, not that people with psychic powers ruled the Earth!)

I browse. If I like a cover or title, I'll check out the book description. If I like that, I'll read the first few pages. If I like that, I'll buy. I'll be honest, typos or misused commas or run-on sentences in a book description will kill it for me every time. Or if the title sounds like one kind of book, but the description sounds like something different. I get very huffy if I feel misled.

Oh, yes. It was awful. Let us never speak of it again.

I tried not to be the writer who uses an outline, but I discovered that the process without an outline is drawn out and messy. First I get an idea, usually starting with a character and a basic story arc. The ideas come from all sorts of random places, but often I dream them. The final story generally looks nothing like the original dream. I work out the kinks, flesh out the characters, decide why this might be interesting, how it might be made more interesting, and how it will play. Then I lay down a character bio and a basic outline, which gets fleshed out in chunks as I go. Then I edit and edit and edit some more.

The Chronicles of Narnia. I said to my mom,"Is that what's in all books? Stories about people and weird stuff happening? Like a movie?" She said, "Yep, pretty much." I was hooked from that moment on. If I don't have a book I'm reading, I feel sort of empty.

I come up with a few suggestions and throw them to my cover designer. He comes back with some options, which I refine, he comes back with some more, which I refine again, and that's usually all it takes. I couldn't design a cover if my life depended on it. Having someone who knows what he's doing is awesome.

Catspaw by Joan D. Vinge, Dreams Underfoot by Charles deLint, The Dark Sleep by P.N. Elrod, War for the Oaks by Emma Bull, The Woodwife by Terri Windling, and Sandman by Neil Gaiman. (I know that's six, but too bad). These are all masterful stories told by people who've worked hard at what they do. Believable, complex characters, plots that have you begging for more, worlds that act and react so much like our own, happy endings, sad endings, but all believable endings. I re-read these CONSTANTLY.

Lots. I prefer urban fantasy, although I will read the odd off-world fantasy. I like a little sci-fi. And non-fiction on many topics, although anthroplogy, cosmology, linguistics and human development are favorite topics. I really don't like romance or horror.

I have a basic Kindle and it does the job nicely. I thought it would be weird to read on screen, but it's just the right size, easy to use, and the battery lasts quite a while. Can't say I've tried others, I'm happy with what I've got.

I'll share that when I figure some out!

Functional but messy.

Wisconsin, and I use the word "crap" too much.

When my best friend at the time did. She had me read a story about this guy in the late eighties who wants to be a hippie named B.J. Hip. He and his friends find a VW bus that is actually a time machine, and they go back to the sixties to meet the Beatles and Led Zeppelin and visit Haight Ashbury, and then they get lost in time and Jimmie Page almost gets eaten by a T. Rex. I was like, "You can write that crap?" I ran straight home and started writing.