From the time I was eight years old, I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up: a trapeze artist. I had just seen the movie with Burt Lancaster, Tony Curtis and Gina Lollobrigida. It wasn’t so much the thrill of the death defying acrobatics, or the romance (to the best of my memory); it was that I wanted to make enough money to buy my Dad a house, a big house, which would surely make him happy. And a trapeze artist could probably do that.
As I went from junior gymnast to wanna be actress to how-did-I-end-up-becoming-a-writer, I never completely lost my naive, romantic notions about how the world works. How could I? I grew up in a small town in Utah, moved every three years, eventually from Utah to the far reaches of the United States. I made few friends, discovered my world in books and movies and stumbled into a fantastic Hollywood career, writing characters who surprised and delighted me.
As a child, my greatest wish was to enter the book I was reading and interact with the characters there. As an adult, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, I not only got to live in the world of literary characters, I was able to earn a living at it, too. I even met Tony Curtis for reals and cast him in a show I was producing. (Check my biography for complete list of credits.)
Of course, these television characters I danced with were all created by someone else, until I sold a pilot to UPN which became a one-year wonder. It was called “Legacy” and I named the main family in it Logan—after the town in which I was born. A one-year series is nothing to sneeze at, given the odds of salmon making it upstream alive and television pilots becoming long running shows. And that year was time enough for me to discover the difference between creating your own world and playing in someone else’s backyard. It’s the difference between living on a flat earth carried on a tortoise’s back and seeing our beautiful blue and green planet from the perspective of outer space.
There are many, many things I like to do, and many, many people I love. Real people. Even so, sometimes there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend a day with my imaginary friends. I hope you enjoy spending time with them, too.