Mag McAvaddy was born in the Connecticut Western Reserve in a year of protest.
She grew up in a home loaded with classic books and records, the dowry of a self-taught mother
who valued the life of the mind. A painfully shy little nerd, Mag lived a rather isolated
childhood and filled her hours with daydreams: a habit she willfully retains to this day.
Like most humans, she has always loved stories. Her favorite authors, poets, and singers
are all wonderful story tellers. Inspired by their example and her own preferences she feels most
at home with narrative and confessional poems.
Mag's version of a literary career is a decades-wide archipelago of stillborn and
aborted projects. She spent many years trying to write novels, then moved to short stories, and
finally washed up on the shores of poetry. She arrived less through her own design than through
two intensely revelatory personal experiences which shattered the lifelong walls imprisoning her
creative energy.
To anyone who is mute like she was, she hopes to serve as an example that it's never too
late to start. Her voice, after being so long rusty, may never be as beautiful or strong as it might
have been, but that doesn't mean yours won't be. You'll never know if you stay silent. Open the
throat of your soul, dear heart, and sing upon the page.