Those who read my books might notice I usually set my stories in mountainous regions. I've set them in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and currently in western Montana. Shoot, even Nantucket has a hill or two.
What most don't know is this obsession with hilly terrain comes from the fact that I live in a land flatter than than my pre-children stomach. Northeast Indiana is a great place to live and a great place to raise a family, but if you visit, be warned that some pre-historic glacier fought the hills, and the glacier won.
I didn't realize just how flat it was until one day when my children were young. We were cresting a speed bump when I heard a sound from the back seat. "Wheeeeee!" They have their hands in the air, and I'm thinking I just might take them over a second time. A lot cheaper than a ticket to Six Flags.
Winter brings it's own challenges around here. What's a kid to do with a 6 inches of snow and a day off school? Why we head to the hill of course. The one just off the interstate at the top of the exit ramp. Oh, yeah, winter fun at its best.
We do have phantom mountains here, though. You know, those distant clouds on the horizon that look like mountains, so you tell yourself they really are. They're gone in the morning, but it makes you feel good for a little while.
Oh, well. There are always the mountains in my books, in my imagination, and I can go there anytime I want through the power of story.
*Don't forget to pray for Diann*