I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, which I’m proud of because I think it sounds exotic and because I know how to spell Albuquerque. But really I only lived there for a year before my parents and I moved back to the area around New York City. That’s where I’ve spent my whole life (so much for Albuquerque).

     Today I live in Connecticut (also tricky to spell, and very pretty, though not exotic). I live with my husband and four children who are 4, 11, 15 and 18. My mother-in-law lives with us too. My parents, my grandmother, my brother and sister-in-law and three nieces all live right around us. This makes me very happy.

     When I’m not with my family, or working on Storyworks, a great magazine for kids, or writing, I like to be with my friends. I met my two best friends when I was 11 years old, and I still talk to one or the other almost every single day.

     Recently someone sent me my sixth-grade class picture. I stared at my young self, wearing my favorite giraffe shirt and blue knee socks, and it all came back to me -- the sound of my teacher’s voice (We loved her, but when we were unruly she would shout, “You all have the colossal gall!” -- look it up if you don’t know what it means), the skit my friends and I performed about the mystery of Roanoke Island (my dad helped write it), how this beautiful girl named Hilary wrote a story about her grandmother, narrated by her grandmother’s favorite doll. It all seems like it happened so recently.

     I understand that time goes by quickly, and I try to enjoy every hour, every day. There are so many things I love to do do — reading fascinating articles and books, baking chocolate cakes, drawing and making collages (I’m very bad at both, but that doesn’t stop me), exploring new cities, thinking about new stories to write.  But really it’s the people in my life that make me feel very lucky and very rich. 

     If only that giraffe shirt still fit me.