I am a Cherokee-Irish writer who has been fascinated with the music of words since I wrote my first poem on my parents’ bedroom wall when I was four. I would sits and listen at family reunions, funerals, and celebrations to the older relatives tell stories and reminisce about their lives—some in the cotton fields and some in the mountains. I was always the quiet one who said very little in school but watched everyone and everything. Not until I was in college did a very special writing teacher show me I had thoughts worth sharing. My writing no longer hid in notebooks but came out to look around. I was fortunate enough to have publishers interested in an early horror book that did moderately well; more recently my first text book came out. In between, short stories, more novels, and poems found their way into stacks marked “one day.”
I am lucky to have a patient husband who knows I like to teach nursing at a local college but that I also need to write. My two sons quickly became accustomed to a mother who was always scribbling in a notebook, pecking away at a keyboard, or standing at the stove just staring into space. Douglas, John, and Doug, the lights of my life, are all computer men who keep me able to go on line and wander the world on screen while I live in a small town in Georgia. Four spoiled cats allow my husband and me to live in their house.
When I was in the fifth grade, I told Flannery O’Conner I wanted to be a writer like her. She looked at me with slightly bulbous eyes and sharply said, “Well, get to it.” I did.
Please contact me at lindawmoore@moojohn.com if you care to chat.
