Laurie J. Marks

When I was a kid in a 1950s California suburb, I discovered C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia, and became determined to be a fantasy novelist. That determination explains everything about my life. All the woman writers I know make up our lives as we go along, flying by the seat of our pants, and when our pants wear out we continue bumping along on our bare butts, until we get too sick or crazy to keep it up anymore.

During my complicated college career, I moved nine times, lived in three countries, and rarely stayed in one place longer than three months. At Brown University, from which I graduated in 1980, I discovered Marxism and feminism, and had a crush on the woman who lived across the hall, though at the time I just thought we were good friends.

I did not realize I was a lesbian until age 29, when two female characters in a novel blocked the plot, insisting that they had to make love with each other. Soon after that I met the love of my life, Deb Mensinger, and sold my first novel.

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