What Does the Muse Say?

on November 19, 2013

Writerspace is really all about the reader. So in thinking about this blog, I considered the parts of a book readers don’t often get to see.  Back story is what comes to mind.  Often, the work of the muse ends up being the most interesting part of publication. Of course, while it’s happening, the author… Read More

Laura Spinella

Laura Spinella

Biographies are a tough sell.  John Nash, Joan of Arc, Helen Keller—people who led very readable lives, and yet the movies did better.  I’ll tell you now I have no Oprah moment, not even a hint of a Lifetime movie.  That said, here we are.

I grew up on Long Island in the 1970s, the daughter of 1940's parents.  I was fortunate to have older sisters.  They were more convincing in the part, following rules, politics, and parental advice.  I bucked the system. I wanted to be a singer, devastated to learn I couldn’t carry a tune in a trough.  Instead, I wrote.  This was something I had an aptitude for, something that pressed boundaries, and I liked that.  Looking back, my pedestrian childhood was probably a good thing, having spent more time making up stories than anything else.

Life picked up pace as I went off to college, outlining the imprint for Beautiful Disaster, though I wouldn’t write the novel for another twenty years.  I attended the University of Georgia where I fell in love with a boy, a friend, and the South.  It fashioned me into a chameleon of sorts.  The North is home, but that evocative place changed me, giving me license and a classroom far beyond J-school where they actually did give me a degree.  I’ve kept the friend and the South close, the boy not making the journey.  That, too, is a good thing.  If it hadn’t happened exactly that way I would have never been privy to Mia and Flynn’s story.

I fell into a freelance career, writing for magazines, newspapers—even penning a column for a while.  Eventually, I knew I’d write a novel.  I knew it like you know your shoe size or that despite very brown eyes your baby’s will stay perfectly blue.  This is my corny segue to the present where I did marry a blue-eyed man whose generosity has afforded me many things, including the time to write.  In addition to Matt and me, there are three exceptional children, two dogs, and one super-size cat, the lives of which take place in a 100-year old house outside Boston.