I assumed that when I grew up I'd get some miserable job and would only
get to do anything interesting in my wee bits of free time.
dad's life was like that. He hated his job as a jukebox man
but he played violin, painted spooky pictures, and built boats and furniture
on the weekends. He and my uncle even built a harpsichord from scratch
-- an original Goldman!
mom had a
day gig teaching, but sang in Yiddish choirs and acted in local theater
on the side. Maybe that's why I was a lousy student and never prepared
much for adulthood. That is, I went to lots and lots of college, but
never graduated, and I had many jobs, but no career.
is now a mediator (but also a writer and a musician) is two years older
than I am and my girlfriends all had crushes on him. He and I are close
now but we disagree about almost all our childhood memories. For example,
I distinctly recall the guilt and thrill of pushing him off the roof
of our red garden shed. My finger tips remember the feel of his sweaty
T-shirt and the umph behind my shove. He, however, swears that
he fell by himself and that never in my life was I anywhere near the
shed's roof because I was (and still am) terrified of heights. Maybe
he's right and I've just been writing fiction for longer than I thought!
friend lived two doors down. We spent every possible moment
together playing elaborate games of pretend and fighting and making
up. Other than the time spent with her, my impression of myself is as
a daydreamy, socially invisible type kid -- but I may have made that
up, too. Memory is tricky and gets trickier and trickier the older I
Schools I dropped out of: Southfield
Lathrup High School, Lansing Community College, Wayne State University
As a semi-adult,
I moved here and there - Lansing, Boston, Stuart, Florida - working
odd jobs, taking random college classes, getting married and divorced
and married again. Somewhere in there I began submitting my drawings
and writings to newspapers and literary magazines, earning countless
humiliating, letter-bomb rejections.
my stuff found its way into print. Hooray! Then, when my first picture
book got published, I was totally hooked. I spent the next few years
writing and illustrating picture books in verse until I started having
babies and got so fat my hand could barely hold my drawing pens.
I took a few years
off to change diapers and push strollers then began my rejection collection
all over again. I was finally yanked out of the slush pile by a brilliant
editor who suggested that I try writing novels. And that's what I've
been doing ever since.
I now live in Southern
California with my husband who is a TV news producer.
We have two fabulously weird kids, a big black dog,
a miniature rabbit, two turtles, a 12 year old goldfish, and two weekend
I have a pretty
little studio out back where my dog and rabbit and I work in spurts
-- all day and night sometimes, and not at all others.
I also teach
writing although just between you and me, I'm pretty sure it can't really
be taught. After all these books and years the writing process remains
a complete mystery to me, even as I'm up to my eyebrows in it. Maybe
that's why writer's block is so devastating... because there are no
breadcrumbs to follow back to the path.
The only thing
I can say for sure is that when the writing is going well, it's a wonderful
buzz -- like no other. And when it's going badly or isn't going at all,
the accompanying feeling is total gloom and despair. That said, there
is absolutely nothing I'd rather be doing for a living and I know I
am very, very lucky!
SCBWI -- Society of Children's book writers and Illustrators
CAN -- Children's Authors Network
CLC -- Children's Literature Council of Southern California
FOL -- Friends of the Glendale Public Library, Board Member
FOCAL -- Friends of Children and Literature
Email me at email@example.com
Contact my agent Linda Pratt at Wernick & Pratt