Life
Born in New Orleans, Louisiana, USA in 1961, Charbonnet grew up with her brother in a "family-friendly" environment, "but with a ready acceptance of eccentricity and the darker side of life." She began her college education at New York University studying writing and Russian language and literature, then transferred to Loyola University in New Orleans, where she graduated with a degree in Russian. She began her career as an assistant to the head of the Juvenile Audio and Video department at Random House in New York. There, "surrounded by children’s books and editors and people who read as much as I did", she wrote her first children's books. She also participated in the editing of The Secret Circle by L.J. Smith during this period.
After 8 years in New York, Charbonnet and her husband moved back to New Orleans, where they began a family (2 daughters) and she embarked on her Sweep series. While not a Wiccan herself ("...even Wicca is too organized a religion for me") she asserts that she "can really relate to Wicca", and appreciates its "woman-centeredness and its essentially female identity."
After 5 years in New Orleans, Charbonnet moved to Durham, North Carolina, where she now lives with her husband Paul, 2 daughters, 2 stepsons, a poodle, and "an unfortunate number of cats."
Read more about this topic: Cate Tiernan
Famous quotes containing the word life:
“What am I then, my God? What is my nature? A life varied, multifaceted and truly immense.”
—St. Augustine (354–430)
“I am heartily tired of this life of bondage, responsibility, and toil. I wish it was at an end.... We are both physically very healthy.... Our tempers are cheerful. We are social and popular. But it is one of our greatest comforts that the pledge not to take a second term relieves us from considering it. That was a lucky thing. It is a reform—or rather a precedent for a reform, which will be valuable.”
—Rutherford Birchard Hayes (1822–1893)
“The city is loveliest when the sweet death racket begins. Her own life lived in defiance of nature, her electricity, her frigidaires, her soundproof walls, the glint of lacquered nails, the plumes that wave across the corrugated sky. Here in the coffin depths grow the everlasting flowers sent by telegraph.”
—Henry Miller (1891–1980)