Her Story

Catherine Genton was born into a large, French-Catholic immigrant family, a rich mythological and sensory world. 

By age ten the concept of God was a problem for Catherine, so she erased Him. By the end of high school, she was living independently and self-supporting. By eighteen she was figuring out how to end her life.

Catherine was invited to church. Forcing her leaden feet to the front for prayer remains the hardest thing she’s ever done. Later that night, alone in her one-room rental, she made a small expression of faith to God. Tangible love flooded her, and she decided to live after all. Problems persisted, but never again was she alone and unloved.

Catherine married as a teen and, by age thirty, was solo parenting. Undergrad studies offered a practical avenue to support her children, but she slid into a fine arts degree, creative writing. 

Her health collapsed, so she wrote a practical book about suffering—what else?—and encountered theological problems. But while in seminary, a question distracted her: If social progressives got what they wanted, would the world really be better, or far, far worse?

This precipitated another slide into fine arts, resulting in a science-fiction novel drawing on her rich mythological and sensory worlds. 

Rigid routines have always been Catherine’s bane, and if you ask her about etiquette or social skills, she will laugh. But she can research and write for hours and hours, day after day, with a finely pitched obsessive compulsiveness.