Michelle writes honest-to-goodness books for veritable children. She lives in a blue house in Portland, Oregon, where the sky is gray today, but blue tomorrow. The trees are always green, unless it is winter, in which case half of the trees are green, and the other half are just sticks. Three other people live in the blue house: A man, a child, and a baby. There are also plenty of cats present, which is three cats, if you're wondering.


Lots of different types of people have previously paid Michelle to do work. Mostly library people and bookstore people. Those are the types who appreciate complete sentences. Or not. Record store people have hired her to arrive late and talk about music, and after-bedtime people have hired her to sing. Once, someone gave her money to take people's food orders at a restaurant, but that was their error. Also, a veterinarian used to pay Michelle to hang onto cats who had varying opinions about needles and ear ointment. To this day, no one has given Michelle money for working on a farm, or making art, or exploring forests, but it doesn't matter, because that was some of the best work she's done.

While I have you here, a confession: In kindergarten, Mrs. Fosbinder told me, "You must write your eights as a figure eight like this (8), not one circle on top of another like this (8)." I'm sorry, Mrs. Fosbinder. I am on a different path.




Michelle Sumovich
Michelle Sumovich
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