Clea Saal

No more… please… stop… I confess. My name is Clea Saal and I was born on this planet, though I am not certain whether or not that would have been my first choice if anyone had bothered to ask for my opinion on the subject. I was born at an early age somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, although I was dragged to the other side of the Equator by my parents when I was only a few years old and I have been playing equatorial ping-pong ever since.

I began writing when I was six and, to some people’s annoyance, I haven’t stopped yet. I endured twelve years of basic education –make that thirteen, I did flunk once– and then by reason of tradition, masochism or insanity, I went on to devote several more years of my life toward obtaining a degree in

No more… please… stop… I confess. My name is Clea Saal and I was born on this planet, though I am not certain whether or not that would have been my first choice if anyone had bothered to ask for my opinion on the subject. I was born at an early age somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, although I was dragged to the other side of the Equator by my parents when I was only a few years old and I have been playing equatorial ping-pong ever since.

I began writing when I was six and, to some people’s annoyance, I haven’t stopped yet. I endured twelve years of basic education –make that thirteen, I did flunk once– and then by reason of tradition, masochism or insanity, I went on to devote several more years of my life toward obtaining a degree in English Literature. The day I finally graduated most professors in my department literally cried for joy.

Ever since I can remember I have been surrounded by books. I saw them, smelled them, chewed them, tore them to pieces, scribbled on them, heard my mother reading them to me, and, as I got a little older, I read them myself… not to mention that I also had quite a few books thrown at me. So, under the circumstances, becoming a writer seemed to be a logical next step.

Okay, I’m done talking about myself… now I’ll shut up and do the writing do the talking.

PS-And yes, in case you were wondering, my author's photo is a little out of date