Barbara Stuber
In the fourth grade Barbara Stuber co-authored her first book – a "Diotionary" (sic)of nonsense words. Early spelling challenges resolved she now weaves those words into short stories and novels. When not writing, Barbara is an art museum docent, drawing inspiration for her characters and honing details of setting and plot from the museum’s vast resource of portraits, landscapes and sculpture.
Barbara lives in Kansas City with her family, about two hours from the good folks of Wellsford, Missouri. Crossing the Tracks is her first novel.
“Dust the people you love.”
Barbara Stuber
“Top-heavy sunflowers droop, their leaves baked golden by the August sun.”
Barbara Stuber
“Everything will need selling, or moving, or rearranging. But there's no right place for any of it, including the most awkward piece of furniture: me. I'm too empty to sell. I'm too replaceable to stay in Wellsford, and I'm too big for Celeste's apartment.”
Barbara Stuber
“Under a bruised sky, fingers of wind stroke the wheat from bleached gold to tan and back.”
Barbara Stuber
“I’ve never seen an old person cry like this. The sadness from life is supposed to be folded inside an old person, not streaming out. - Iris from Crossing the Tracks”
Barbara Stuber