I went to school in a small town in California. Livermore was a cow town then, now it is a vineyard town, a national laboratory town and nothing like when I was a kid.
Jack London lived there before I was a little kid, before he went to Alaska and before I read his books at about 10 years of age. I remember clearly, lying out in the cow pasture looking at the clear blue sky and watching an airplane fly over. I said to myself.
"Someday I'm going to Alaska."
And I did go to Alaska, and lived there for 21 wonderful years. I consider it my home. Jack didn't stay that long.
At the time I went to High School, the little town had maybe 15,000 to 20,000 people. There are now 4 published authors from that little town, I went to school with two of them. Judy Yuskus and Judy Merkle Riley. I haven't read anything by Judy Yuskus (I don't know her married name), but Judy Merkle Rily wrote wonderfully detailed historical romances.
I am certainly not comparing my writing to London or Riley, but isn't it interesting that such a tiny town would produce so many writers. Three of those in two adjacent High School classes.
It brings to mind Truman Capote and Margaret Mitchell.
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