About the author

kneeling in the snow


Tasche Laine was born May 23, 1966 in Wichita, Kansas. At nine months old she relocated to the Pacific Northwest with her family, and grew up shuttling back and forth between Portland and Seattle.

Tasche left home at eighteen, traveled a bit, then got her degree in Broadcast Journalism from Washington State University’s Edward R. Murrow School of Communication. After graduating from WSU in 1989, she worked a few jobs, including TV News Reporter and Boeing Tour Guide.

She married in 1996 and had a daughter in 1998. Much to the dismay of the doting grandparents, she and her husband moved to sunny Southern California with their one-year-old in 1999, where she soon became a high school English teacher, then went on to pursue two teaching credentials at California State University, Fullerton. Tasche continued to teach—both in the classroom and as a Studio Teacher to the stars in Hollywood until June 2017, when she picked up and moved back to her roots to pursue writing. Today she lives in Vancouver, Washington, and CLOSURE is her first book.

What’s in a name?

People often ask me why I spell my name so funny. First of all, I didn’t come up with it, my parents did. My name is pronounced Tasha, but is actually spelled like the German word for bag—as in handbag, pocket book, purse, or attaché case.

Let’s stop and think about that for a minute.

When I was in fourth grade, our class got a new student. He and his family had just moved to our tiny town all the way from Germany. Thomas Wittek was nine years old and spoke English very well, but with a strong German accent. On his very first day in class, upon learning my name and its spelling, he immediately let out a giant guffaw and pointed at me, “Tasche? Ha ha ha! You’re an OLD BAG!”

At recess that day, he told anyone who would listen that my name meant bag, and that I was in fact an old bag, and what a stupid name that was. Who, in their right mind, would name their kid Old Bag? He was incredulous. Needless to say, I went home that day crying to my mother over the traumatizing event.

My dad was taking German in college while he and my mom were dating. When deciding what to name their new fluffy black kitten, my dad looked up KIT, which was short for kitten—and also my mom’s initials—in his German-English dictionary. A synonym for kit is bag. They saw the word ‘tasche’ and fell in love with it. They decided it was the perfect name for their kitten. Later, after my parents were married and I came along, they still liked the name, and thus I was christened with it as well. So, when people ask how I was named, they usually get the short version, “I was named after a cat.”