Myka Baker

About Myka

Myka Baker appeared to her mother in a flash of light in a hospital with a view of Cape Canaveral, in the shadow of a rocket launch.

When she was three, her father left his engineer job at the Cape, and the whole family moved to a small town so her mother could run her grandfather’s fernery. Fifty miles from the future, her childhood consisted of the staples of rural life: lake swimming, church revivals, train-truck-tractor tragedies, and obsessive reading.

She wrote her first novel while living in Cornwall and working in a newspaper darkroom. She got a master’s degree in Tylenol and did stints as an English teacher, graphic designer, marketing flunky, theater stage hand, technical writer and indie bookstore owner.

She lives on a few acres in a funny-looking house near Canaveral Beach with a beta reader spouse-type person and a milling herd of rescue turtles and cats.

She writes science fiction and mysteries in which you’ll find a lot of fallible folks, dreams, magic, and happily-ever-afters. She also writes poetry, short stories, and essays containing much of the same, though the endings are less well-known.

Many of her stories revolve around the future, science, and magic—after all, a rocket flew over her cradle!

All of this is mostly true. Or most of this is all true. Isn’t that what most stories are?