About Me - Michelle McAfee Long-Bio

Photo by my friend Ellie Stephano, 2010–1st summer in Alaska

My first rejection as a writer came from a Reader’s Digest editor. I was eleven years old, living in the Rocky Mountains west of Denver. My English teacher, Mr. Upzack, sent a note home asking my parents if he could submit my homework assignment to the publication. It didn’t go well.

I wish that story were sitting in a scrapbook somewhere. I remember it was about a bear family with two cubs. The narrator was one of the kid cubs. I don’t know what kind of adventure I took them on, but at least I got an A on the assignment.

Our family of four built a log house by hand

The following year we moved to a homestead in northwest Montana where bears were the real deal. My brother and I ruined our jeans that summer scooting down logs, peeling the sap-soaked bark with a draw-knife, and I learned to play guitar on my mother’s 12-string Epiphone.

There was one guitar songbook in the house, and after a month I was bored, so I wrote my own songs to pass the time. We lived 30 miles from town, 15 miles from my nearest middle school friend.

Music took me to Nashville in my early 20’s

I was a cliche — lived in my truck in a campground outside of Music City, with a dog, a guitar, a sleeping bag, and a fierce passion for music. I met incredible songwriters then stumbled into a staff songwriting position at a small publishing company, which led to writing professionally for two larger companies for a decade.

I transferred to Los Angeles to finish my last publishing contract, where I fronted a rock band and wore thick black eyeliner, fishnets, and platform boots for two years.

But, you can’t take the mountain out of the girl.

Photo by Tim Hogan — Recording Studio, Los Angeles 2004

I had a dream about Portland, Oregon, and moved there

My new neighbor watched me carry my guitars into the house and invited me to a yurt party in his backyard. A yurt in a city? I showed up late. It was June. Everyone but me was in costume. Every costume was a King or Queen. A woman with a long flowing purple cape walked up to me, “Who are you?”

I put my guitar down so my nervous, shaking hands wouldn’t drop it, “Uh… I just moved in next door.” She smiled, “Sweet. Where’s your gown?” She walked away. I felt like running home. But pushing through the nerves and walking through the door of the yurt that night changed my life in a profound way.

I met my people

There were two old, ugly tapestry throne-like chairs sitting at the head of the yurt. My neighbor and his partner were ceremoniously giving them away to a new home. Everyone came dressed as a King or Queen to take a turn sitting on the throne to perform a poem, a song, a dance — something they made. The community would then clap-vote on who wins and takes home the thrones.

For the first time in a long time, I played music for fun, not for work

The core ten people from that night are still dear friends. Three of them taught me how to whitewater kayak, and I ran just about every river in Oregon (and a few in Washington) with them for two years. I liberated myself from corporate music moving to Portland, and the freedom was delicious.

A strange turn of events led me to a cabin in a rural mountain valley in Southern Oregon

I played a few songs at a local barn party and met a gifted guitar player and his band, which led me to make three acoustic albums and tour regionally on the west coast and southwest. I met and worked with a songwriter from Alaska, and she asked me to go to prison with her. I joined her and six other artists in a collective that brought music, poetry, and visual art into Folsom Prison in California. Then she invited me to tour Alaska in the summer of 2010.

My life was never the same again. I’ve returned to Alaska nearly every summer since and put roots down in a remote adventure town.

Photo by Author, 2016 — Main Street, McCarthy Alaska

After a long, fun, crazy career in music, I was hit with a neurological disorder

Essential Tremor affects the ability to control my vocal cords, so I’m transitioning from music and live performance to writing. Short nonfiction, essay, and blogging stole my heart when I took a couple of classes in 2020.

I found Medium and Substack and was introduced to a new kind of audience. I have been writing ever since. Writing to me is like breathing. I have a room piled high with boxes full of journals I’ve filled since I was fifteen years old.

But stories are more fun when they are shared.

If you like to read stories and share stories, don’t be a stranger. Reach out!

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Connect with me on Instagram @michellemcafeemuse.

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