After several decades as an IT programmer, manager, technical writer, and instructor, Beth’s rebellious streak and creative itch propelled her out of corporate and into the world of freelance writing.
Amiably unorthodox, she is widely known by her given magical name, “Beth Owl’s Daughter,” but has also written extensively under her birth name, “Beth Livingston.”
Her essays and features have been published in what was once North Carolina’s premier New Age publication, Innerchange Magazine, and for several years she had a monthly column in The MetaArts Magazine, sadly, also now discontinued.
Beth has also written numerous reviews, columns, and articles for Raleigh-Durham’s award-winning Indy Week (which is, thank heavens, still going strong!).
Beth wrote and self-published Kind Veggie Burritos, the first cookbook of recipes gathered from Grateful Dead concert goers. Best-selling author and winner of the 2015 Samuel Johnson prize for non-fiction, Steve Silberman, raves, “A wonderful book…aglow with Deadhead spirit, warmth, and unpretentious good eats.”
For 26 years and counting, her cookbook for charity has continued to fly from her cottage in the woods of northern Durham County, NC into the VW busses and kitchens of a diverse and enthusiastic audience.
And since 2003, Beth has been a prolific blogger, covering a myriad of topics, including seasonal ceremonies, Witchcraft and Earth-centered spirituality, and the Tarot, gathering thousands of subscribers and accolades from reviewers.
But as Maya Angelou wrote, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
Beth knows how true this is, and is now on a mission to birth her stories. She hopes you will enjoy and be inspired by them.
Twenty-Two Other Random Tidbits. Plus One Surreptitious Bonus.
- I majored in sociology because some genius grad student advised that it would be more practical than English Lit. (sigh..)
- I drive a white Honda Civic named Epona. My previous car was Goldie Hon-da.
- I have lived in North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Texas, Kansas, Florida, Virginia, Nebraska, Arkansas, and Okinawa (Japan). Some of these multiple times, and sometimes in different towns (and Army bases).
- Although I try to be patient and mindful that all living creatures are sacred, I have a zero-tolerance policy regarding insects in the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen.
- When I was eighteen, I hitchhiked alone from Florida to Oregon and then back East again to D.C. I subsisted by playing my 12-string guitar, as well as the kindness of strangers. Plus I had one dollar in case of an emergency.
- If I had a do-over, I would never have spent half my life working for Cubicle Nation. Instead, besides taking myself more seriously as a writer, I think I would have really enjoyed being a foley artist.
- I am a fan of college (American) football, but couldn’t care less about pro ball. My home team is the perpetual Charlie Brown of the SEC, the University of South Carolina Gamecocks. So, to stave off abject despair, I also root for Clemson, since that’s my dad’s alma mater. Except when they play each other, of course. (Bonus tidbit: my 92-year old dad is the Owl whose daughter I am: his initials are O.W.L.).
- I am addicted to Cafe du Monde coffee, shipped from New Orleans. I drink 2½ big mugs every morning.
- When I was little, I loved The Three Stooges so much that I was flabbergasted my parents refused to name my first younger brother Curly.
- At age 14, I began my lifetime of activism by participating with a group that was aiding several busloads of marchers who had come from Mississippi for the Poor People’s Campaign in Washington, DC. It was inspiring and enlightening to help serve their meals and wash up afterwards, and I even babysat for the littlest children that had to be left behind while their parents demonstrated.
- My maternal grandmother was a librarian at Hollins College in Virginia (now Hollins University), and under her guidance (plus long summers at her house where there were no other children to play with) I developed my lifelong passion for books.
- My favorite job, besides all my writing and Tarot-related gigs, was being the social services and activities director at a 152-bed, privately owned, skilled nursing facility for the elderly in St. Pete, Florida. (So the sociology degree, with my focus on gerontology, panned out after all).
- I loved studying Latin in high school. My friend Jean and I would ride the bus into downtown Alexandria, VA and speak it to each other, imagining how alluring this must be to any eavesdroppers. Of course, we did not know any conversational Latin (is there even such a thing??), so we were just parroting our vocabulary lists. And Caesar.
- Heaven is a newspaper tablecloth, a sleeve of saltine crackers, a bowl of cocktail sauce, and a mountain of boiled shrimp.
- Growing up, I had a sweet beagle and I like dogs. But when, in 1980, a mama barn cat presented two of her tiny kittens to me, my heart flipped over. Ever since then I have been a staunch cat person.
- One of my decadent indulgences is make-over TV shows, particularly Bar Rescue, Restaurant Impossible, Unsellable Houses, Home Town, and the old series, Tabitha Takes Over. (No, I don’t care for Fixer Upper. I think they are pretentious and phony). Stories of redemption and transformation are my happy place.
- I actually love the color pink, and it ticks me off that it has been hijacked to represent corporate hubris about breast cancer. Being a Stage 3-B breast cancer survivor, I have earned the right to this opinion.
- After we built our magical cottage in the woods of Durham, NC, we named it Laurel Hill. It feels like a mountain retreat, and my husband John and I share it with two rescued cats (indoors only), a magical multitude of wild animal and plant friends outdoors, and countless ancestral and spirit beings who come and go as they wish.
- One of my pet peeves is glitter. I loathe how it shows up everywhere — greeting cards, wrapping paper, and even in makeup. For one thing, I am paranoid about getting it in my eyes (it’s a nightmare). But did you realize it is contributing to serious environmental problems? Please don’t ever send me glittery, sparkly stuff. Sorry, y’all. It’s not Fae. It’s toxic.
- Many folks know I am a big classical music aficionado plus a lifelong Grateful Deadhead. But one of my shocking secrets is that I also swoon over the lush, easy-listening of the Jackie Gleason Orchestra. Yes, that Jackie Gleason. Please don’t tell anyone.
- In my long-ago past, I was an enthusiastic participant in community theater, mostly working props and makeup behind the scenes. My only on-stage appearance was a smash performance of four lines as “The Woman,” in the last ten minutes of a three hour production of A Man for All Seasons.
- I have shaken hands with Earl Scruggs, Louis Leakey, Bill Monroe, Ken Kesey, Mary Higgins Clark, Molly Katzen, and Vincent Price, to name a few. Despite my vague intention to do so (see No. 5), alas, I never met Jerry Garcia. But once, I nearly gave Bruce Hornsby a heart attack as he tootled around on a golf cart before the start of a Dead show, when I ran up waving and yelling to him with one of my cookbooks. Hands only slightly shaking, he graciously accepted it and then tore off as fast as that golf cart could go.