Raised on a Wisconsin dairy farm, Karen began her storytelling career spinning fantasies for her dog and creating plots while she mowed the huge country lawn.
In her high school English class, the students were tasked with writing a novella, and when her teacher read portions of Karen's work aloud and praised her talent, her passion for writing began to burn.
She served for several years as in-house editor/manuscript coordinator for author Steve Allen (ghostwriting portions of some books), wrote screenplays for various production companies and ghost-wrote a travel book for the Auto Association of Great Britain.
She worked with Dove Audio, Inc., abridging books for recording and was an instructor for the American Film Institute's scriptwriters' program. She also wrote the official bio of Richard Pryor, which appears on his website.
Now retired, Karen lives in Green Valley, AZ
I sat so merry in my abode
Loving hands around me
I dreamt of such glorious days
One day i would see
I remember the day I left
My room
I closed the door behind me
One quick look again
Then walked away
The room which would always remind me
The glorious days I had dreamt
I did merrily spent
How little did I then know
Life turns on a dime
My room is now not as it was
When I closed the door
Behind me
My room now is a prison
But not how one would invision
It is one of sorrow and grief
Sadness burns into the bare walls
I catch my breath
And weep
Why did thou'st doth betray?
The room which once embraced me
I ask with riddled heart
Jagged and torn
Which wicked riddles have I thus sought?
I sit still
I am now my room
No dreams as once before
I age before my open door
In my room long ago
I sat merrily in my loving abode
Loving hands did hold me
All gone
My room and myself
Now one
Two thrust to be together
Forever
Alone