S. W. Vaughn is stuck in central New York, where they have both seasons – winter and construction. She lives with her husband and teenage son, as well as her sister and two teenage nephews (yes, the house is filled with testosterone and angst), six cats, and a dog who really wishes she was feline. Her hobbies include failing to learn Japanese, doing anything to avoid cooking, and playing chauffeur to large groups of teenagers. She tries not to write in the car too often, since it tends to make the kids think they’re going to crash and die. But she writes just about all the rest of the time. That way, she doesn’t have to cook.