For the first 30 years of my life, I lived in Texas, where I would spend as much time as I could every summer soaking in a swimming pool.
Even as a toddler, I loved stories. My mom once told her friend–the mom of one of my best friends–that she couldn’t read me to sleep, because I’d never sleep. Her friend didn’t believe her. They made a bet. My mom read me 17 Little Golden Books before she lost her voice, and her friend conceded.
My whole childhood, my family would take big road trips crisscrossing the country. I saw the rain forest in the Pacific Northwest and almost threw up on my dad at the Museum of Science and Industry Slice of Life exhibit. We took a tour of Carlsbad Caverns and looked over the edge of the Grand Canyon. But, we also stopped at lots of historical sites; I went to the Alamo in San Antonio and wandered around for a day at Colonial Williamsburg. Sometimes, we saw quirkier stuff like the Hole N” The Rock in Moab, Utah. I loved all of it. I liked knowing the world was bigger than my small town, and I knew I wanted a big life out there somewhere.
When I tell people I was very shy as a child, sometimes they don’t believe me, but it’s true! I was afraid to even talk in class most of the time. But, travel changed my life, just not in the way people usually think. The first time I traveled to Europe, I had just turned 16, and I went on an educational trip led by the high school geography teacher. Most of the kids who went were more popular and less nerdy than me. I had a couple friends, though, and I knew I’d be fine. What I didn’t anticipate was just how uninterested many of the other kids were. One girl complained about having to see “another church” when the church was Notre Dame.
On that trip, I realized something: I’d made myself quiet and small because I was afraid of what other kids thought of me, but those kids weren’t smarter or more creative or better than me. They were bored at architectural marvels and upset that large cities were a little grimy. So, I decided to stop being quiet. By the time I graduated high school, the teachers I’d had senior year didn’t believe me when I said I’d been shy. I had been. I’d been terrified. I wasn’t anymore–even though when I gave a speech at graduation, I shook the whole time.
After high school, I got a B.A. in English and History from Rice University, then an M.A. and Ph.D. in American Studies at the University of Texas at Austin where I wrote a dissertation about coin-operated video games.
For the past 15 years, I’ve spent most of my professional life researching games. I interview players and developers. I dig through old magazines, papers, and games in archives, and I get to play games, too. Video games are fun and scary and interesting and weird. I think we should take them seriously, so I write about them. Right now, my goal is to write books for kids, so I can share what I know with more people and because most kids play games. It’s always worth knowing more about the things we spend our time with and for most people now, video games are one of those things.
Today, I still love stories, and I still love to travel. I read lots of science fiction and fantasy, sew quilts and clothes, wander around the museums and parks and zoos.