Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?
When I’m writing, I spend more time thinking about the past. That’s where most of my stories originate. I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about the future. I do what I need to ensure the best future but I don’t have a lot of control over what comes.
Time is the greatest gift a person can give. Whether you volunteer for Habitat for Humanity, help build a playground, or donate some of your precious vacation days to an ailing coworker, time is precious.
I have attended a few. Under pressure from my parents, I did one year at a community college, then transferred to Louisiana Tech University. After getting married, I finished my education degree at Northeast Louisiana University in Monroe, Louisiana. I took a couple of courses at Louisiana State University in Shreveport. I completed my nursing degree at Northwestern State University in Shreveport, Louisiana. That is a long list.
You get to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?
I read and write in my cozy den. The television doesn’t bother me at all. Izzy either sits on my lap or or Bud’s or rotates between the two dog beds or the love seat, Croc on his bed or the love seat. Bud reclines in his comfy chair and watches TV or reads. It’s a good, quiet place to be.
This sounds like a bonafide hillbilly story but I’ll tell it anyway. When Daddy bought his farm, it was covered in trees which had to be removed to create pasture. He came up on a bastardized vehicle that had been cobbled together that was ideal for pulling stumps. An avid hog hunting neighbor had acquired a bizarre amalgamation of various vehicles that met Daddy’s needs perfectly. It was a cutdown school bus with no windshield. An ancient truck seat replaced the bus seat. It had a flathead v-8 motor that was geared low enough to pull tree stumps. Its most distinguishing feature was a wire cage on the back the former owner had transported wild hogs in. With tractor tires on the back and big truck tires on the front, boggy ground was never a problem.
Christened the “Hogwagon,” this vehicle was a wonder to behold. Of course it could only be used off-road. Daddy could hook it to a stump, pull the stump till the deep roots were exposed, maneuver around till he could cut deep roots with his power saw and eventually pull the stump out of the ground. It was amazing to see the stump finally lose the battle against the hog wagon. Daddy cleared forty acres in a few months. With that job complete, the Hog Wagon fell into disuse, It had certainly helped Daddy complete a monumental task in record time.
I write. That is the most creative thing I do. I also garden, crochet and am learning to knit. I am finding knitting very challenging. So far, I am creating only messed but I will get it. I am persistent.