Lynn Abbey

Family legends hint that Lynn Abbey’s been a storyteller pretty much from the moment she learned to talk. She discovered her father's typewriter long before she learned to read and decided that any machine which had so many moving parts and made such amazing noises was going to be a major part of her life.


Early on, Lynn planned to be an astrophysicist, but switched to European History where she was on her way to a Ph.D. when her advisor pointed out that, given the natural rise and fall of demographic curves, tenured university faculty positions were going to be as scarce as hen's teeth for the next twenty-five years and her education was turning into an expensive hobby. (He was right, too.)


He suggested to Lynn that she get a real job, so she became a computer programmer, which in those days (after dinosaurs, before IBM 360's) was a wide-open, hands-on field. Companies were eagerly hiring warm bodies to computerize decades, even centuries, of handwritten data.


Lynn vanished into the dusty archives of a huge insurance company and might have remained there forever, but fate�"masquerading as the New York City Bankruptcy Crisis of 1976�" intervened to make her the least significant member of the state taskforce charged with deciphering the city's arcane pension funds. When she was finished flushing the silverfish and mice from City Hall’s data, senior members of the task force proved what everyone already knew intuitively: there the city couldn’t meet its obligations.


Lynn contemplated life in the Big Apple without police, without firefighters and�" especially�" without garbage collection and decided it was time to leave. She headed west and got as far as Ann Arbor, Michigan.


It took one more turn of events to get Lynn back to her childhood dreams. In January of 1977 she headed for the airport to fetch Gordon Dickson back to Ann Arbor for the annual science fiction convention. The temperature hadn't seen the plus side of zero degrees Fahrenheit for a week and the brake cylinders on her vintage VW Bug finally froze.


Lynn came to in a local emergency room and the less said about the rest of that day, the better.


Except Gordie felt guilty: Someone he didn't know had very nearly made the ultimate sacrifice to get him to the convention on time. He felt a karmic need to make a sacrifice in return and offered to read such prose as Lynn could manage to produce. It was an offer that she couldn’t refuse. Propped up by pillows and crutches, and still suffering the hallucinations of a fractured skull, she began working (feverishly) on DAUGHTER OF THE BRIGHT MOON.


Gordie would later confess that Lynn Abbey was, beyond doubt, the least-promising would-be writer ever to cross his bows. He swore he did his best to discourage her, but Lynn never got the message. Fortunately for Lynn, by the time she was rid of her crutches and Gordie might have considered his karmic debt fully repaid, with interest, she’d taken his blunt lessons to heart and incorporated them into DAUGHTER. Gordie sat back after what must have been the ninth or tenth rewrite of chapter one and said, with a look of astonishment, that it was time to start chapter two.


Since completing DAUGHTER started, Lynn has published over two dozen novels. She also wrote for and eventually wound up editing the THIEVES' WORLD™ shared-world anthology. Lynn has also navigated the tricky shoals of translating narrative prose into role-playing games.


In 1997, after several delightful and productive years spent in Oklahoma in a household of writers, Lynn decided it was time to get back to her family on the eastern side of the Mississippi and moved to Central Florida. Since arriving in that stranger-than-fiction state, she has not only continued to write, she has teamed up with CJ Cherryh and Jane Fancher to form Closed Circle, a digital publishing company showcasing their work, new and old, in multiple, DRM-free formats.