Fun Facts


  • I’m the oldest of three children. My younger brothers used to call me “sarge.”
  • Those same younger brothers once chased me around the house with a kitchen knife. This was after they realized they didn’t have to do everything I told them and stopped being my personal slaves.
  • One of my brothers threw an empty beer can at me splitting my eyebrow and requiring stitches. I think I might have been yelling up the attic stairs at him. And, no, he hadn’t been drinking. It was the 70’s when kids started beer can collections of craft beers across the country. You couldn’t get them at any grocery or liquor store like you can now.
  • I once took a personality test for a job and the test scorer told my prospective boss that I could give a drill Sargent a run for his money. (I got the job!)
  • Another personality test I took said that I am ‘results oriented.’
  • My twenty-something son told me a few years ago to stop ‘trying to manage’ him. ~ ~ Do you see a pattern emerging?!?! Now that he’s on his own we don’t have that problem anymore. I’ve really tried to squelch this tendency in myself over the years, but it doesn’t seem to be working!! 🙂 If you want someone to boss you around, I’m your girl!
  • I held the indoor record for the 220 yard dash – so long ago it was before metrics – at my high school for several years.
  • If I suddenly had  free day I would plan out what I wanted to do so I would be sure to do everything I wanted. I would even plan out my relaxation time.
  • I speak a little French from high school and whenever I travel to another country with a different language, no matter what the language is, I have an irresistible urge to speak French.
  • When I was in France years ago I gave a man helping us with a broken down car the okay sign…and he looked at me oddly. Apparently, in French it means ‘you suck’ or better yet ‘you’re an a-hole’. Nice way for me to thank him!
  • I don’t like to sit still and do nothing, so I often bring knitting with me.
  • I have boy/girl twins and when they were little people would ask me if they were identical…nooooo, one’s a boy and one’s a girl. Remember high school biology?
  • My freshman high school biology teacher told me I should be a nurse because I was doing so well in the class. When I came home and told my mom she said “You should be a doctor.” I have her to thank for always believing I could be anything I wanted to be. 🙂 That was the beginning of my love of science.
  • My senior high school Advance Placement biology teacher was what we used to call a ‘male chauvinist pig’. Another girl and I were doing extremely well in the class and he couldn’t deal with it, so he barely acknowledged it. We both scored 5’s on the AP exam. I still remember his face when we told him. Winning is the best revenge.

Here is the Real Bio

I haven’t always been a writer. Many writers kept journals when they were young and wrote stories and dreamed of becoming a writer. That wasn’t me. I don’t journal, I make lists. Lists of things to do, grocery lists, lists of ideas or topics, you name it. I keep a spiral notebook for each project. I also like pretty office supplies, like notebooks, pens and pencils and stickers and file folders. You’d think I’d be very organized, but it’s just a futile attempt to control the chaos!

I’ve always been a voracious reader. I’ve started getting books on tape to listen to while I’m driving – I drive A LOT! I also read books on my iPad, my iphone (in a pinch – its not my first choice) and of course REAL books. So many books, so little time!

I have a degree in biology and thought I would be a doctor at one point. My path didn’t lead that way, but science plays a big role in my writing. I think the author who influenced my writing the most is Madeline L’Engle who’s writing combined elements of science fiction and the spiritual/metaphyscial. All of my novels have an environmental theme and incorporate true science in addition to science fiction.  INDIAN SUMMER has an archeological and historical theme, and also an environmental conservation element. THE FIELD also has the environmental theme and delves into quantum physics and The Universal Energy Field (as well as high school soccer). I know, sounds thick, but it’s a good read! The third book, CATALYST, carries on with the environmental theme as it deals with fracking.

I started writing when my kids began reading and I rediscovered all the books I loved as a child and new books I’d yet to discover. I found myself developing stories of my own so I began writing novels for children and young adults. Images from my childhood growing up on Lake Michigan and the landscape of Indiana feature prominently in my novels.

I live in Indianapolis in a eclectic part of town called Broad Ripple. Lots of shops and restaurants, coffee shops and a few bars. I like traveling, gardening, reading YA novels, knitting, sewing, felting – anything to do with fiber arts – rummaging through junk shops, cooking and dancing!

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Writer’s Block and Beer

A friend recently sent me this picture –

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I can see sharing a beer with Mr. Shakespeare to help alleviate writer’s block! Or several beers! 😉 At least we’d have a good time. ***I just realized this is Pinot Noir, NOT beer. Oh, well, it has the same effect.

Fortunately, I’ve never suffered from true writer’s block. There have been times when I’m not sure how a scene will unfold or what direction the plot will go, but I find that if I approach it from another direction, the way will become clear. Usually that means working on another part of the novel where I’m sure of the way, or reviewing what I’ve already written to get a sense of what comes next.

My subconscious or higher self is where my ideas germinate. Thinking about the plot doesn’t generally produce great insights. I find that if I mull it over and spend some time brainstorming, researching and writing down ideas and go off to do something else – or go to sleep – and let things percolate, at some point ideas will start popping into my head. I always have a notebook with me so I can jot them down, but once the path of the plot unfolds, it becomes ‘real’ and I don’t forget it.

Many writers will tell you the book ‘writes itself’ or characters will do things that surprise you and change the trajectory of the plot. I find that’s true for me. When I get into the creative writing ‘zone’, it just flows out of me. I know what’s going to happen next and what the characters are going to do and say. Sometimes it’s not what I’d planned or expected, but it’s almost always better.

Right now I am revising Indian Summer, the first novel chronologically of the three companion books, which will be published after The Field as a prequel. I’m getting good feedback from my writers’ group and I can see how much I’ve progressed as a fiction writer since I started writing it about 13 years ago. I’m excited about the new, polished result.

I’m also starting to get ideas for the fourth novel of the quartet, which will provide what I hope is a satisfactory conclusion. More to come on that later!

Keep being creative!

Brown Books to Publish My Novels

I’m very excited to share that Brown Books Publishing Group is publishing my novels!

The Field is scheduled to release in Spring 2019. Indian Summer will be released next as a prequel followed by Catalyst. I’ve started work on the fourth book which is a sequel to Catalyst and the conclusion of the series. The first three books are not sequels, but companion books.

Brown Books is working on the marketing strategy and requesting endorsements from authors. I’m beyond pleased to share this news!

It’s Been a While and First Pages of WIP

I can’t believe it’s been over a year since my last post! A LOT happened in the past year. I moved, changed jobs AND totally revised Catalyst, my work in progress. It has now been through numerous rewrites and beta readers and I’m ready to send it out to agents and publishers. Here are the first few pages to give you a taste.

Chapter 1

I’ve had glimpses of something beyond my five senses. Usually it’s premonitions and intuition, but four years ago when I was in middle school I communicated with the spirit of a Native American girl. I want to experience that again, but I don’t know how. Sometimes she inhabits my dreams and I wake up wishing I could connect with her while I’m awake and wondering if I imagined it all in the first place. It feels like a door that was once open to me is shut and I don’t have the key. Thinking about it gives me a vague, unsettled feeling. It’s like something is missing from my life.

I give myself a mental shake and pull the door handle to get out of the car, determined not to give in to anxious thoughts. Hopefully the next few weeks will keep my mind occupied with other things.

We arrive at the Angel Mounds archaeological dig site in time for dinner. That’s when all the students in the field study are supposed to arrive for orientation and a ‘meet-and greet’ evening as my mom refers to it. It’s her dig. She’s an archaeologist at the University and I’ve been to several of her sites over the years, but this is my first time actually working on a site. Not bad for a summer job – at least that’s what I’m hoping. It’s unpaid, but still great experience. She was able to get all three of us – me, Eric and his girlfriend, Renee – spots on the dig team.

I’m checking out the people milling around the clearing when I see them. Their presence immediately commands my attention.

Most of the others are probably college students from the University, archaeology or anthropology students, doing a summer field study course, but these two are different.

The man suddenly turns and looks me straight in the eye. It’s as if he senses me looking at him, or thinking about him. Because that’s how it feels. Like he’s reaching out and touching my thoughts. I hear him say, ‘hello, Marcie’, not audibly, but inside my mind. I take a slight step back, startled, but hold his gaze and the connection between us. In my previous experiences I’d never heard words spoken. Just thoughts and feelings. He inclines his head toward me and touches the brim of his hat before returning to talk to his blond companion. I’m a little disturbed by the whole exchange. Something about him makes me uneasy. My skin shivers and I rub my arms to dispel the feeling. Who is this guy and how had he communicated with me?

I shift my gaze to the woman. Her caramel-colored hair is braided into a heavy rope hanging down her back and she’s gesturing in smooth, fluid motions as she talks. She gives the impression of being both still and animated, reminding me of a cat stalking its prey, immobile save for the twitching of its tail. Contained is the word that comes to mind. The way her eyes roam over the other waiting people, stopping only briefly to look at me, enhances the feline resemblance.

They’re standing off to one side of the shelter with their heads together and holding clipboards, deep in conversation. Both are dressed like everyone else in shorts and t-shirts with beat-up boots and hats. The guy has his back to me, talking to the girl, or woman, as they are obviously older, probably graduate students. His hair is black and smooth, held back by a leather tie. It isn’t that they look any different from anyone else. They feel different. They have a palpable energy about them.

Wish me luck on my submissions!

Catalyst – Title for my Work-In-Progress!

I’ve finally found title for the novel I’m working on – Catalyst!

Titles are hard to come up with, but this one is perfect. The novel itself is intended to be a catalyst for readers to open them up to spirituality and environmentalism and how our spiritual growth impacts the health of the planet as a living entity.

The young people in the novel are also catalysts. They are the wayshowers for other awakening souls who wonder “Is this all there is?” Are you one of those people? I know I was. I remember being in the parking lot of the grocery store 19 years ago with my then three year old twins crying because I knew that somehow there was more to the world, the Universe than just the day-to -day going to work, doing the laundry, etc. My search for higher meaning is an ongoing process, but one with great rewards.

I hope that through the vehicle of story, the great teacher of fiction, that I can weave a tale that will both enthrall and inspire you to look for and find the answers to the question – Is this all there is? Because I know for certain that there is much, much more in the Universe than we ever imagined. We simply need to open ourselves up to spiritual growth. It only takes small steps to get started.

Be more aware

Listen to your intuition

Ask the Divine for guidance

Sit silently in prayer or meditation

Be in nature

Slow down

What are ways that you’re connecting with your higher self?

Excerpt from THE FIELD – Eric connects with the Universal Energy Field, but can he believe it?

Eric’s class is on a field trip to the coal gasification plant in this scene.

Finally, we’re back outside at the side of the plant where the trucks tip their loads of coal into the processing area. Our chirpy guide is saying, “There’s a picnic area along the shore of the Eagle River where you will have your bag lunches, and Mr. Asplunth, the plant foreman, will come out while you’re eating and answer any of your questions.”

Shit. I look over at Will, whose face has hardened again. The prickly feeling intensifies and, instinctively, my muscles tense, ready. Miss Chirpy continues now with an even bigger smile on her face. “I understand that one of you is Will Asplunth, the foremen’s son? Will, would you like to come inside and visit with your dad?” She looks at us happily, searching for Will.

All the students turn to look for Will as well. Standing beside me, he says through clenched teeth, “No, thanks. I’m going to eat on the bus.” He turns abruptly and starts jogging across the unloading area toward the parking lot.

No! Stop! It explodes into my brain and before I can think I’m lunging towards Will and grabbing him by the arm; yanking him back towards me. I sense more than see out of the corner of my eye, the dump truck coming fast around the corner barreling towards us.  I’ve pulled him so hard that his momentum brings him crashing into me and we hit the ground, scraping and bruising ourselves on the asphalt and landing in a tangle of arms and legs. The dump truck, going much slower now, makes a wide turn around our group and passes harmlessly by where Will and I lay on the ground.

“What the hell? Will says, angrily, shoving me away from him and clambering to his feet. “What was that for? I can’t believe you actually threw me to the ground.”

“That dump truck, I though it was going to hit you,” I stammer out. I knew it was going to hit him and I just reacted. But it didn’t even come close.

“What are you, like Superman or something?” he says sarcastically. “It was nowhere near me.”

“I’m sorry. I though it was. I guess i was wrong.” I can’t believe this. I was trying to save him from getting hit by a truck and I’m apologizing.  I feel like a complete idiot. The entire class is staring at Will and me. He’s glaring down at me, and I’m still on the ground, blood dripping onto the asphalt from where the skin is scraped off my arm.

Will takes a deep breath and lets out a whoosh of air. “It’s cool man. Sorry for yelling at you.” He extends his hand towards me to help me up. “Just don’t pull that shit on me again, okay?” He gives a half-hearted laugh.

Mr. Ogle comes over to see if we’re okay and find out what’s going on. Then our guide takes the class over to the grassy area by the river for lunch and goes off in search of a first aid kit. I sit down in the shade under a tree, and Renee comes over to sit beside me. She puts her hand on my wrist below a spot on my arm where most of the skin is scraped off.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes wide with concern. “What happened?” What did just happen? My goalkeeper instincts kicked in when I though Will was in danger, but how did I know that? The truck didn’t come anywhere near him. I had an uneasy feeling all day, and then the sudden flash of danger! Had I been wrong?

“I don’t know. I guess I thought the dump truck was going to hit Will and I pulled him out of the way. I didn’t think, I just reacted.” I lean my head back against the tree.

“Why did you think it was going to hit him?” It’s a reasonable question, but do I have a reasonable answer? If anyone would believe me, it would be Renee, so I decide to tell her the truth.

“It just flashed into my head when he started to jog across the parking lot. I didn’t even see the truck at first. I just knew he was in danger.” I shake my head and shrug. “But I guess I was wrong.”

“Maybe,” she says. “Or maybe you really did save him.”

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Thoughts are Things and the Akashic Record ~ Excerpt from THE FIELD

Excerpt from The Field when Eric and Renee are discussing how ‘thoughts are things’ and the Akashic Record.

“What do you mean exactly that ‘thoughts are things,’ and what is the Akashic Record?” [Eric asks.]

She sighs. “I didn’t really want to get into this right away, but here goes. Just remember that you asked me. Thoughts are things means that our thoughts are energy; both creative energy and electrical energy. So when someone says that thoughts have power, they mean that your thoughts have the power to turn what you are thinking into reality and also that thoughts literally have power in that they are a source of energy that can be measured.”

“But everyone knows that thoughts can turn into something real. First you have an idea, then you act on the idea and then it’s real.” I know this isn’t what she really means, but I just can’t help playing devil’s advocate.

“That’s true, but the theory is that if a person is able to harness their thoughts and access the Collective Consciousness to focus on a goal or objective, then the step where action is required is skipped. The thought itself is what makes it happen.”

“As in ‘mind over matter?'”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“I guess I already know that on some level because of what happens sometimes to me in the goal and what I’ve read about studies done with athletes. So much of sports id mental. There was one study where they used three groups of athletes training for the same event.” I drum my fingers on the table, trying to recall the article. “Two of the groups used visualization and one just trained. The groups that visualized winning both performed better than the one that only trained – even the group that only visualized and didn’t train at all. They concluded that visualizing success was as important as training, if not more so. Still, the Collective Consciousness? What’s that?”

“The Collective Consciousness is all of the thought energy from everything in the Universe, like an underlying current of energy connecting everything together, and the Akashic record is like a vast library of all the thoughts and information that every existed or ever will exist.” She stops and looks at me for my reaction. I look down at her hand still clasped in both of mine. Her nails are perfect ovals and the skin covering the tiny bones and muscle and sinew that make up her hand is smooth and unblemished. I am reminded of how amazing even the things we take for granted really are. The human hand is at once beautiful and miraculous. It’s miraculous that we even exist at all, really. That the world exists. How different is it to consider that there could be truth to what she’s saying?

Thoughts are things. Currents of energy. A library of thoughts.

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Research trip to Mammoth Cave and Diamond Cave for my work in progress.

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I’m getting ready to write the scene in my WIP where the characters visit Mammoth cave in Kentucky. Being deep underground, caves aren’t bombarded with all of the energy waves from cell phones, TV’s, radios, etc., and some consider them to be portals to other dimensions. To find out more about that, you’ll have to read my novel when I’m finished. 🙂

Last spring I went on a research trip to Mammoth and Diamond caves to learn more about them. The most interesting thing I learned, which might seem obvious, but didn’t occur to me until I was in the cave is that it is PITCH BLACK when they turn out the lights. You could see absolutely NOTHING. Not the hand in front of your face or even the movement of your hand. It took a brave soul to venture down there before they were electrically lighted.

Mammoth cave is mostly a dry cave, so while it was beautiful and cool, it didn’t have the stalagmites and stalactites that form from dripping water.

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Tunnel in Mammoth Cave

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Rock passage in Mammoth Cave

Emerald Cave, which is much smaller, but actually part of the same cave system, is a wet cave and has beautiful features formed from the constantly dripping water.

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It’s hard to do justice to the beauty with my little instamatic camera. All of the caves were originally thought to be formed by water and at the lower levels not open to the public, underground rivers flow. One of the rivers, appropriately called the River Styx, emerges from the ground through a rock wall onto the surface.

Styxx

This looks like a pool of water, but it is actually a river flowing out of the rock wall.

One of the themes of my books is the dangers of Fracking. We found it interesting that the buses at Mammoth Cave National Park are run on the so-called ‘clean energy’ of natural gas. Ironic to say the least.

Research trips are one of the perks of being an author!

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“What we call empty space contains an immense background of energy.” ~ David Bohm, physicist

This is the quote at the beginning of The Field. It really sums up the theme of the entire novel.

“What we call empty space contains an immense background of energy. This vast sea of energy may play a key part in the understanding of the cosmos as a whole. Space, which has so much energy, is full rather than empty. What we perceive through the senses as empty space is actually the plenum, which is the ground for the existence of everything, including ourselves.” ~ David Bohm, physicist

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