About

Logo with quill pen, inkwell infront of continuous scroll of double hearts with Rochelle Phillips and love on the edge written below

Well, this is awkward. Writing a bio about oneself that is. Especially when your self-conscious about sounding like you’re bragging. Or, if it’s difficult to see yourself as, well, interesting.

What do you put in it? “Just the facts, Ma’am” or The saga of my life? Then there’s the whole point of view issue – the omniscient voice of God or first-person narrative?

Oh, and lest we forget; style. A dry, matter-of-fact recitation of the content or a humorous listing of the high points seasoned with a lot of sass and a little piss-n-vinegar?

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Ugh, Do I really have to do this? “All right, all right, I hear you, Mrs. Weaver.” The voice of my 6th grade English teacher bounces around my head.
“Chelle, hon, don’t overthink this. Just be yourself.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”

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A little of this and a little of that. That pretty much sums up the life of Rochelle Phillips. Born an Air Force brat north of Biloxi, Mississippi, near Keesler AFB she experienced one change of station at the age of two to Dyess AFB Texas where her father finished out his AF career. After his retirement, she moved with the family to Lubbock, TX where she graduated from Lubbock High School and then attended Texas Tech for two more years.

She met her hubby of thirty-odd years and he swept her away, leaving Lubbock, Texas in their rear-view mirror. (Thank you, Mac Davis)

Mr. Phillips likes to say she’s the only good thing he found in Lubbock.
As an adult, she’s lived in Dallas, Arlington, Ft Worth, Austin, and Round Rock. Raised two wonderful people with her hubby and is over the moon in love with her granddaughter. But arguably, her most important job is as the servant of their five feline overlords. (Yes, they made me say that.)

Rochelle, like many writers, has always had a vivid imagination with a cast of thousands telling her their stories. To prevent her head from exploding, she gave in and put pen to paper, or to be exact, fingers to keyboard. Most of her early stories were lost when her hard drive and backup drive died within days of one another. NASA level backup redundancy is now SOP in her household.