Misty Warner’s writing career suffered a major setback when, around the age of five, her older sister discovered her diary and made fun of her for misspelling "swing set." Despondent over her literary skills, it wasn't until later in life while working at a particle board plant she resumed any serious writing.
Egged on by a new company policy banning all reading materials, Misty decided to “give it to the man” and purchased some spiral notebooks. Seated on a forklift with wood dust coating the inside of her nose and formaldehyde seeping into her pores, she proceeded to write her first three novels.
After leaving the mill, she continued to hone her craft by joining a 9 Bridges critique group in 2014. And in 2021, when her fellow writers began to yearn for in-person meetings again, she started a motley crew called Writers Helping Writers, which, to this day, remain an invaluable source of knowledge and support. She is currently working on her 16th novel. None have been published.
Each of Misty’s books is like an old man sitting on a red cracked bar stool. Elbows in the stickiness of his spilled drink, he refuses to let the listener go until the dank mud of his tale rubs like Vaseline. Only then does he feel like he can drop his loose quarters down next to his empty beer can and go home.
Contrary to popular belief by most family members, Misty Warner was not found under a rock. Rather, she was born in Plains, Montana in November 1975. In 1981 her family of five (all women sharing one bathroom) moved to Hamilton, Montana. After graduating from high school, she attended college for a year and a half before dropping out to join the army. From there, she fell into the blue collar work field where, in Missoula, Montana, Watkins and Shepard would take her on as the youngest female driver. Later she would become the first female to be hired as a driver at SACS and USF Reddaway, and become the first female to earn a boiler’s license at the Roseburg Forest Products plant.
Currently, Misty Warner still drives a semi-truck where she revels in breaking any stereotypical molds and swearing like a grumpy grandpa. Off the clock, she enjoys riding her street bike, reading, photography, and watching her scoby grow. She also lives with her cat. Her cat hates her. Cats are jerks.
Copyright © 2024 Misty Warner - All Rights Reserved.
We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.