How much do you need to know about someone to care about their writing?
It depends on how good the writing is. If a writer's work is unfailingly brilliant, their compositions do all the talking.
So, uh... I'll tell you a little more.
I have a job title that makes me sound very competent, which I am. Other titles include: Wife! Stepmom! Daughter! Sister! In-Law! Friend! Colleague! The Sun Also Rises!
I'm shortish, curvyish, noisyish, and a raging klutz. When ice sees me coming, it smiles, because we're about to get to know one another really, really well.
I'm a Canadian. I do apologize to inanimate objects (like ice) but sometimes begrudgingly, because I live in Boston. Boston likes to begrudge as much as it likes to win things and pay actors to murder the local accent.
My fridge always contains the following: eggs (cage free, because they like to roll around); butter (also cage free, because those calories have places to go); orange juice (it helps you absorb iron! which is why I avoid scrapyards); Parmigiano-Reggiano (that's amore!); bacon (how you bacon when it's so cold in there? I'll be here all week! Tip your waitstaff!); and mustard.
(No, I didn't have anything parenthetical to say about mustard. Until now.)
When I'm not writing, you might find me cooking, telling stories with my flappy hands, hopping into the car for an adventure with my husband, yelling at sports, watching cooking documentaries on Netflix, or singing "On My Own" by Patti LaBelle and Michael McDonald (why? Because it offers the opportunity to sing along with Patti LaBelle and Michael McDonald.)
I'm very good at trivia. And very competitive about it, too. One time, I swore at an old person at pub trivia for not knowing the capital of Burkina Faso.
(Okay, I was that old person, and I whispered it to myself.)
(Ouagadougou, by the way.)
I would rather not spend time with spiders, most bugs (ladybugs are welcome, nay invited to spend time on my arm for ~ 45 seconds), humidity, clowns, socks, or zombies.
I love spending time with my family, my friends, the ocean, the open road, musicians, books you can disappear into, my bed on Saturday mornings, and babies of most species.
(Except grubs. Total dullards.)
My favorite day of the week is Thursday, because it's the highest crest of the roller coaster.
My least favorite day of the week is Tuesday, because you're halfway up the hill with your sled in -5 F, and unsure if this is worth all the trouble.
I can make any day of the week fun, mind you.
And most weeks, I do.