Welcome and thank you for visiting the author website of Michelle Devon, who is sometimes affectionately (and sometimes not so affectionately) known as Michy. That’s pronounced Mickey, like the mouse, and not Mishy, like a fish; not Mitchy like the guy on Baywatch; and no, it doesn’t rhyme with bitchy, though she can sometimes be that too.
For over ten years, Michy was a freelance print and web writer by day and an emergent novelist by night, until her family finally told her, “It’s your turn now.” Thinking they meant it was her turn to focus on her fiction writing career, Michy pushed freelancing to the back burner, completed three novels in three years, as well as starting three more that are in various stages of completion. She then began the journey of polishing, perfecting and per… puh.. P… well, running out of P words for alliteration, she began to search for a literary agent.
Little did she know, literary agents don’t scrub showers (well, at least not other people’s–they might scrub their own), and her family had actually meant it was her turn to clean the bathroom. So, shower scum went unchecked, and Michy really needs to sell one of these novels to pay for the cleaning service to come and etch the mold, mildew, and muh… m… well, she ran out of M words for alliteration too.
Speaking of her family: Michy has two children, on days she chooses to claim them. Her daughter is manager of a socially acceptable legal drug dispensary (Starbucks), while doing holistic healing and massage therapy on the side. Really. Her son is an aspiring chef who just cut off the tip of his finger at work, and who jumps out of airplanes, just for fun, but without the knives, because some body parts are more important than fingers. Michy is in love with an identical twin, though she’s not sure which one he is. Her best friend, lovingly known as Buffy, rounds out her perfect family of choice, along with a kitty cat, Dusty Cat Hunter; two dogs, Jake the Dog & Scruffy Mutt; her feathered babies, a Goffin’s cockatoo named Memphis Houdini, a green-cheeked conure with the cinnamon mutation name Conner the Conure, Woz & Bob sibling 24-year-old orange-winged Amazon parrots, and a blue & gold macaw named Hatch; with few invisible friends, along with the people who live inside her head.
Oh, and Michy’s also a closet poet, though she’ll deny that if asked directly, certain it is a dreaded affliction for which there will one day be a literary cure.
At the tender age of 35, Michy was faced with making a choice between becoming the first female president or becoming successful as a novelist. Determining that the latter was the more difficult of the two aspirations, she nearly chose the former, until she was reminded that there are dirty showers that need cleaning in the White House too. Probably a few closets that need cleaning as well. Novelist it would be.
Though if she had known how easy it seems these days to run for president, she wonders if that wasn’t a mistake.
She’s no longer 35, or even close to it anymore, (in fact, she’s started counting backwards, by fives) but if asked what she does for her ‘day job’, she’ll answer, “I’m a full-time professional dreamer…”
She is living her dream, every day.
Though she spends every waking moment writing (though sometimes it’s in her head and not at the keyboard), and she spends most of her sleeping minutes dreaming of new stories to write, in the rare moments her family and friends can drag the laptop from her clawing hands, she enjoys gourmet foods and fine dining at upscale restaurants in the Houston/Galveston area of Texas (check out her Yelp! Elite reviews!). As long as someone else cleans the kitchen afterward, Michy also enjoys gourmet cooking, from reduction sauces to pan-seared potholders and char-broiled freelancing careers (she always forgets to turn down the flame on those back burners). Her culinary expertise is often described with one word: mostly edible.
Hey, she’s a writer; she leaves math to the experts.
If you have any questions, please feel free to click on the Contact tab and send Michy an email. She personally answers all emails she receives, but please be patient while waiting for an answer, since she receives hundreds of emails per day from long-lost wealthy relatives who want to sell her Viagra to help her lose weight, and those, of course, take top priority.