I’m Carol A. Malone and some books I might publish under the name of Annie Malone. Welcome to my world of writing.
I had a happy childhood growing up among the Rocky Mountains of Northern Utah in a small town filled with quirky characters. My dad raised chickens–thousands and thousands of chickens. Eventually he branched out into turkeys. You might say we had a fowl life. I was surrounded by scads and scads of pious, emotionally volatile family members. I have special memories of highly charged family gatherings, but always happy times.
When the chicken business failed, we moved to the worldly land of Southern California. It took me a long time to fit in with the kids in grade school, so profound was the culture shock. I never knew Utahian’s had an accent to the way they spoke until my new California friends asked if I was from the South. It makes me laugh when I return to Utah for visits and here the accented talk. “My aunt plays the (a)rgon for the Narth Logan Farth Waard.”
I was pretty much an only child growing up since my four brothers were so much older than I. I loved to live in my own little world of make-believe with me as the heroine.
I wrote my first romance short story at the age of sixteen. A little piece about a slice of early American history and two people finding love and passion on the prairie. I got an A for my effort and fell in love with romance. In my first go ’round with college, I wrote poetry-barely passable poetry, but I loved fitting words together to create something inspirational and fun.
I tried short fiction after college. I wrote short stories about people who live with fervor and intensity. I even wrote a screen play for Battlestar Gallactic–the first one. But then I met and married my husband, Tim.
Raising her son, Mike, became her full-time passion. I didn’t write again until January of 2008 when Tim and I entered college a second time and took English classes from Professors Leeman and Schulz at Moorpark community college. It was then my creative muse smacked me upside the head and what spilled out of my brain were six romantic manuscripts in one year.
My first published piece, a short story entitled: “The Garden” is my first serious story. No romanctic tale there. But sometimes a situation happens arises in our lives that has to be faced head on, analysed and dealt with. Hopefully we learn wisdom from our experiences with other people, especially our family. Writing helps the grieving process and gives me a place to vent my frustrations and fears and helps me understand what I hope for, dream of and wish to achieve.
Writing fills a need that I can’t get satiated in any other way. It’s like an extended form of breathing for me. I whole-heartedly believe there’s truth to the saying: “publish or die.” I hope to live and bathe in my creative juices for many years to come.
Right now I’m working like mad to get a manuscript in such a perfect state of readiness as to attract an agent who knows and understands passion and will be willing to take a chance on me.
My motto is: “Discovering women of passion–one story at a time.
For me writing is the journey and the destination, the place where dreams become reality.
Here are some pictures from my life.
This is a picture of us tending to the new baby chicks. There were hundreds of them. You should have been there to hear the “cheeping” noise.
The last picture is of my family. That’s me in front. My brother David has a hold of me. Reed was to the left next to mom, Helen Oldham Olsen, Dale is in front of dad, Paul Lund Olsen and Scott, the eldest round out the group. Those were simpliar times. Times of pain, but love and laughter. This picture was taken on the day of my Grandfather Oldham’s funeral. He died when I was only a year old. I never knew him. But I understand he was a great man.
So those pictures are some of my roots.