Sara Baker

I was born in Washington, DC—a circumstance that acclimated me to high humidity and low intelligence. It’s a beautiful city, especially in the spring when the cherry blossoms say hello ever so briefly and the dogwood lingers just a bit.

I come from a loving (and very patient!) family and began to write even before I began to read—which made my early literary works rather difficult to decipher, let alone publish. No one told me that what you wrote had to make sense to the reader. I just thought that if I had an idea banging around inside my head, all I had to do was scrawl it in my own way on a piece of paper, and of course, someone looking at the page would know exactly what I had in mind.

I am an auto-didact (self-taught person), having chosen to travel rather than sit in a classroom, so my education has been the broad world, and I’ve loved every minute of it. Though I’ve written many things—stories, essays, non-fiction, even a brief stint co-authoring a syndicated comic strip--all published under other names.

Until now.

With the help of my friends and fellow writers—John Evans, Martin Landon and Norm Shannon—I’ve emerged as a gatherer, editor and collaborator of the written word. Some pieces under our mutual byline are by me, and some are not. Perhaps one day, I’ll write a complete work under my own name. I think I’d like that. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, I live a happy life with my judgmental cat and potty-mouthed parrot in the beautiful little town of Clearwater.