Connect with Elizabeth
I knew before I started high school that I wanted to write novels, but back then, my idea of being a writer consisted largely of wearing berets and sitting in a bookstore surrounded by piles of my latest bestseller, with a line of people wrapped around the building waiting for signed copies. It never occurred to me that I would have to actually, you know, write books in order for that to happen. Now, more than twenty years after seeing my first book in print… well, I still prefer the adolescent fantasy, quite frankly. (And I still like to wear berets.)
I never really made a conscious decision to write popular fiction, however. In fact, in college, I studied pretty heavy literature. I still bear the scars of a 600-level Dante class in particular, and I was never quite the same after that paper on Baudelaire. Nevertheless, I managed to graduate with honours in English and move directly on to studies for my master’s. Midway through that degree, however, it dawned on me that I was starting to loathe the written word. The only thing that saved me from succumbing was the twice-monthly arrival from Silhouette Books of my Desires and Intimate Moments. Yay popular fiction!
Eventually, I abandoned my studies, but not my writing. And when I began to write seriously, what came out was the kind of stuff I would have much rather been reading in college than the classic literature I studied which, let's face it, was never kind to women. I’ve been fortunate in seeing my books appear on a number of bestseller lists (including USA Today and one brief, breathtaking moment on the New York Times extended list) and in receiving more than a few awards. And it’s been great fun to see my books translated into different languages and sold around the world.
Currently, I’m at work on novel number sixty (!), living in my gorgeous native Kentucky with my high school sweetheart husband and a pretty amazing son who will head off to college next year. When I’m not writing, I’m spending time with them, whether it’s doing something as mundane as watching Bones or Leverage on TV or as exotic as grilling salmon kebabs in the snow.
You know, now that I think about it, I guess that reality thing isn’t such a bad gig, after all.
Casablanca and Harold and Maude