About the Author
Gloria Repp grew up in the Hawaiian Islands and the Pacific Northwest; it was there she learned a love for wilderness that pervades her writing. She has taught creative writing, worked as an editor, and written books for children, teens, and adults. In addition to wilderness adventures, she enjoys flying in single-engine airplanes and has a particular fondness for owls and frogs.
Each family member has played a unique part in the writing of her books. Her eldest son teaches on the Big Island of Hawaii, and she has made trips with him to lava tubes and Mauna Kea’s volcano; she values his insights on the natural sciences and on godly scholarship.
With her Seattle son, daughter-in-law, and grandson, she shares an interest in people and music and journeys of discovery, especially on the Olympic Peninsula. She relies on them for a reality check of plot problems.
Her daughter, who lives in Virginia, is a competent resource in matters of sewing, baking, and midwifery. The two cats who have chosen to grace her daughter’s apartment have sufficient character to appear in stories from time to time and often take part in book discussions.
At home, her husband, a pilot and aircraft mechanic, provides valuable input for the aviation elements in her books, entry to the fascinating New Jersey Pine Barrens, and a strong, supporting shoulder. Although she likes traveling to research her novels, she thinks that the best part of every journey is coming home.
A Personal Note
Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord…
He is like a tree planted by water,
that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes,
for its leaves remain green.
—Jeremiah 17: 7-8
I was fifteen years old when I discovered the Living Water in the person of Jesus Christ, and I’m still learning to take my sustenance from Him. I have to admit that I have days when I feel like nothing more than a withered leaf—dried up, and crumbling around the edges—but as I call out for His grace, He turns my attention from myself to Him. Then all I can do is thank Him for His mercies and His great, undeserved love.
As far back as I can remember, stories have been a part of my life. At bedtime, my father would hold me on his lap, saying, “What kind of story shall we have tonight?” And I would ask for lions or a lost princess or a tidal wave (we lived in Hawaii at the time.). He complied with seeming ease, and as I grew older, I found my happiest diversion in making up stories for myself. During my school days, I wrote a bit of poetry and read omnivorously, but I didn’t do much in the way of creative writing until after my children were born.
My first stories were for them, and my first book, hand-made, was simply an account of our Nana’s visit, written for one of my sons and illustrated by the other. As I continued to write, my stories grew longer, the plots became more complex, and my fascination with realistic characters grew.
My children’s books combined my love for adventure with a delight in children and the way they think. At the same time, God was teaching me about Himself, insights that, oddly enough, intersected with the problems my characters were experiencing.
Ten books later, I found myself wanting to explore characters more deeply and to develop more complex issues. Ideas began to sizzle for my first adult novel. These days, as I struggle through the writing process and share my characters’ dilemmas, I continue to find refreshment and grace in my Lord. With each book it seems more vital to keep my roots searching, to drink more deeply from Christ, my Living Water.