When I tell folks I have two degrees in sport management and an adult thriller coming out soon, I know the question I’m going to get before it’s even posed: How do those go together?
During the summer of 2021, my two lifelong loves met up in Casper, Wyoming. I was 21 and had never lived anywhere outside of Washington (the state, not DC). I set off in my Honda Fit and drove 1,100 miles east to the heart of Big Sky Country, all in pursuit of (what I thought) was my dream job: a baseball play-by-play broadcaster.
Why Wyoming? Well, it was the only place that offered me a job. One of the teams I interviewed with said they liked my demo tape, but I was too much of a risk to hire because I might fraternize with their male players (*stares in lesbian*). The front office in Casper, led by women, decided the “risk” was worth it. It’s rare to hear a woman sports broadcaster, and even rarer to see women in positions of real leadership in sports. I chose Wyoming, but in so many ways, Wyoming chose me.
Those who have worked in the sports industry know that the “and other duties as assigned” part of your job description means you will be doing anything and everything that needs doing. Even though I spent most of my time in Casper in the press box, I also spent time in the concessions stand, selling Gatorade and ice cream sandwiches during the youth baseball games. In between my saleswoman duties and running up and down the concrete walkway, using a bug zapper to kill every fly in sight (see: other duties as assigned), I was writing the earliest drafts of the book that would change my life.
I’ve always been fascinated by small towns, especially those that exist in the middle of nowhere—very much like Wonderland, Wyoming, the setting of my debut novel, Long Time Gone. How many first-grade classes did they have? How many grocery store trips did they make in a week? How long did it take the volunteer firefighters to arrive? Compared to most of the towns in Wyoming, Casper is a metropolis––they have a population of over 50,000! And they have a Target!
Wyoming is the only state in the country without a city with a population of over 100,000. It only has one university. Wyoming was the first state to allow women the right to vote, because the then-territory needed more people to live there to become a state. I’ve never seen a bluer sky than on the outskirts of Casper; it was in the same spot that I experienced the blackest, darkest night. And there is so much space. Big Sky Country is named because of the seemingly endless view of the sky, thanks to much of the area’s flat terrain. You might be flying down the highway at the 80-MPH speed limit, but it often feels like you’re standing still. It didn’t take my author brain soon to wonder: what goes on out here?
Though you could never pay me to live in Wyoming again, I have the culture shock largely to thank for the setting of Long Time Gone. Many of the reactions that Quinn, my main character, has in the story are based very much on my own. When done properly, the setting of a story can become its own character. While there is much to be said about Wyoming, no one would say it’s a place lacking in character.
Long Time Gone is my ninth novel, but the first to be published. My first novel was what I later realized to be fanfiction of Ally Carter’s Gallagher Girls series––I noticed the similarities at the time and said, “What if they were witches and spies?” and this became the basis of my second novel, a YA paranormal romance. I wrote a few YA contemporaries, and a couple of YA mysteries; but I never stopped writing. It’s been the one constant throughout my life, even as friends have left, hobbies have lost my interest, dorm rooms have been moved in and out (and then back, again) into.
That said, it was not easy constantly getting rejected over the years: first by agents, then by publishers and editors. Every book that didn’t sell felt like a failure. About a month before Long Time Gone sold, I was convinced that the project was dead. No one was interested in my lesbian, crime-solving cowgirls out in Wyoming, and I needed to move on, or maybe just give up entirely. And then, on a Wednesday afternoon while I was waiting for a University Parking Appeals meeting to start, a notification popped up—my agent had emailed, and the subject line read: we have an offer!
Even more frequently than I’m asked How do sports and writing go together? I’m asked Oh, you’re not working in sports? You’re not broadcasting? It’s true, I’m not doing either of those things right now. I work part time at my local public library in youth services. I substitute teach—not to brag, but the kids call me Miss Slay. I’m the PA announcer for women’s soccer and volleyball at the University of Idaho. I grade essays and quizzes for a class I used to teach. I love my routine and my jobs and the impact I make, but a lot of people look at all that and the place I live and think: failure.
Other peoples’ perception of failure has always weighed heavily on me. I didn’t make it to the big leagues of broadcasting: failure. I didn’t want to be a full-time broadcaster: failure. I don’t want to work in sports anymore (that’s a whole other essay): failure. But without that summer in Wyoming, Long Time Gone wouldn’t exist. Without broadcasting, I wouldn’t have been in Wyoming in the first place. I guess you could say that Long Time Gone is an amalgamation of all my failures—honestly, I can’t wait to see what I fail at next.
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