I wrote SIGNS, my first published novel, over twenty years ago. It came out in 2005. I was thrilled, as a rank amateur, to be published by Bantam Dell, a divission of Random House--one of the biggies. It was the beginning of a wild rollercoaster ride and five more Elizabeth Goodweather books.
A few days ago I began rereading this, my first-born. I was delighted to discover that it was better than I remembered. More than that, it captures so much of my life twenty years ago--the farm, the garden, the dogs . . .
But I had to laugh when I realized that in this book, Miss Birdie is 81--as am I.
I was in my early sixties when I wrote this book and, originally, so was Elizabeth, But I dropped her age back to 52, hoping to give her a bit more zing in her possible romantic life. As for Miss Birdie, 81 seemed incredibly ancient.
And now, here I am. I've had people address me as Miss Vicki and, while I try to be gracious, I really dislike it. I named Miss Birdie after an old (!) woman I once met, never thinking that someday I too . . .
Life is weird, the longer it goes on.
