Sherry Simpson was hauled to Alaska by her parents when she was seven. Even at that tender age, she had somehow gotten the idea that Alaska was a dreadful, ice-covered gulag of darkness and despair. Only in January, as it turns out. Sometimes December. And November.
At the University of Alaska Fairbanks she discovered that her inability to master math and chemistry meant that she would not become a marine biologist and learn to communicate with dolphins after all. Instead she studied journalism.

