Julie Angeli

Writing Bio

My writing has appeared in SPIDER Magazine as well as ONCE UPON A TIME.  Most recently, I co-wrote a picture book, THE CLUBHOUSE CONUNDRUM, for the local chapter of the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.  The purpose of the book was to educate children about the Sisters and the “green” renovations recently completed on their motherhouse.  I am currently a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators and a graduate of the Institute of Children’s Literature.  .  I currently live in Bloomfield Township, Michigan with my husband, children, and four cats. 

How the heck did I end up here?

People who have known me for a long time are typically a bit surprised when I tell them that I am now a children's writer.  I'm still trying to figure it out myself.  If you're interested, I wrote an article about it that first appeared in the Spring 2009 issue of ONCE UPON A TIME, a magazine for children's writers.  The article is entitled "Rescuing Pencils in Peril."  I've reprinted it below:

    It all started with a story about a family of pencils.  They won second place in an elementary school writing contest after they were dreamed up by a little girl with red hair and freckles.  These pencils lived a happy, peaceful life, basking in the warmth of imagination and creativity.  But, one day, they were kidnapped by an evil witch from the wretched Land of Compare and Contrast.  They were taken to this land and tortured by the wicked King of Grammar and Queen of Topic Sentences.  They were imprisoned for many years behind rigid bars of writing rules and restrictions before the little girl came back, all grown up, and rescued them. 

     I was that little girl.  I am a writer.  At least that’s what my friends call me.  The problem is I don’t like to write.  I just like to make stuff up.      

     While my family of pencils was running from evil witches and wicked kings, I was running from writing.  In high school I signed up for the yearbook class because it counted as an English credit.  In college, I scoured course listings to find professors who gave multiple choice tests so I wouldn’t have to write an essay.  I spent years avoiding writing.  Then one day, writing found me.

     While reading one of my “how to be a perfect parent” magazines I stumbled upon an advertisement for the Institute of Children’s Literature.  Clearly something had snapped because my pencil family started talking to me. 

     Father Pencil said, “You should write children’s stories.” 

     Then the wicked King of Grammar said, “Are you kidding?  You can’t write.”

     I listened as the voices battled in my head. 

     Finally, Baby Pencil said, “You can save us.”

     I’m not normally the heroic type, but I felt responsible for the pencil family’s predicament. 

     The wicked king sensed he was losing the battle “You don’t like to write!” 

     He had a point, but that would have to be my little secret.  I signed up for the class and started my rescue mission.

     This was my world.  Little girls flew on dragons to save princesses from frightening wizards.  Bad guys perished in puddles of gooey glop.  Something extraordinary was always hiding behind the ordinary.  Best of all, no one could tell me I was wrong because I was making it all up.  Yee ha!  What could be wrong with that?  What was wrong was that I had to write it all down.  I loved thinking about my stories, but writing was a chore.

     Taking the class forced me to write and eventually two of my assignments were published.  I hung a framed copy of one of the stories over my writing desk. 

     Life was good, but it wasn’t long before the wicked king whispered, “You’re unworthy.  Writers live to write.  You live to eat chocolate.” 

     I clapped my hands over my ears and ran to my emergency stash of extra dark sixty percent cacao.  My hands trembled as I struggled with the wrapper.  What if someone discovers my secret?  I don’t love to write.  I’m forced to write when I can’t hold any more in my head.    

     After years of hiding my dirty little secret behind dozens of excuses and a few written pieces I read the website of one of my favorite columnists.  In his advice to writers he referred to some sage who said “Writing is not fun.  Having written is.”  I thought, This is a man with a Pulitzer, and he doesn’t think writing is fun!  A tiny spark ignited my brain cells.  My fingers tingled.  I was on to something.  What should I do?  When in doubt, Google it.  The house was silent except for the sound of my fingers clicking away as I entered “writing is not fun” into the search engine.  My eyes focused on the tiny hourglass on the screen.  Click!  I held my breath for 0.18  of an endless second.  At last, pages of writers’ web sites appeared.  Total hits:  15, 800!  Aha!  Numbers don’t lie.  I’m not alone.  I am a writer!  Take that you wicked king! 

     My family of pencils is living happily ever after.  They’ve learned to live peacefully with the King of Grammar and the Queen of Topic Sentences and have decided that the Land of Compare and Contrast is not so bad.  I hear the voice of a new nemesis, the lofty Lord of Editing, but now I have a mantra.  “Writing is not fun.  Having written is.”

 That's my story and I'm sticking to it!