Where I’m From: Sherry Roberts
I’m from small-town Missouri, where people loved and drank and worked in the cake mix factory.
I’m from my grandparents’ farm, where Grandma twisted the heads off chickens while Grandpa smiled on and rocked.
I’m from real newsrooms (not fake ones) in Missouri, Vermont, and North Carolina.
I’m from a mother who was a survivor, not afraid to walk away from the bullies in her classroom, striding down a long hall while the Catholic nun ran after her yelling, “Come back here.” She never did.
I’m from a creative father who dreamed of designing a wall system that would save the world’s energy. And he did.
I’m from chocolate, hummingbirds, yoga, disc (not frisbee) golf, reading on the porch with the windows open, Minnesota winters and long summer evenings.
I’m from the laughter of grandchildren, the comfort of daughters who like to hug, and the loving energy of a husband who never stops and never lets me stop. Thank goodness.
I’m from the characters in my novels and the stories I write. From the puzzles and patterns in my books that I work like the jigsaw puzzle on my dining room table.
I’m from words that follow me into the night. Words that must be put down gently, whether spawned of understanding or rage.
Words I give to you.