Sarah Bird is the author of eight award-winning novels, including The Yokota Officers Club, Virgin of the Rodeo, The Mommy Club, and The Boyfriend School. Her most recent novel, The Gap Year, was named one of Library Journal’s Best Novels of the Year for 2011. Her ninth novel, A Princess Lily Girl, will be published by Alfred A. Knopf in the spring of 2014. Sarah was the holder of the Dobie-Paisano Fellowship in summer 2010, was inducted into the Texas Literary Hall of Fame, and received a National Magazine Award nomination for her Texas Monthly columns. She has written screenplays for Warner Bros., CBS, TNT, the National Geographic Channel, Hallmark Features, and many independent producers and syndicated programs. She has been a contributor to the New York Times, Salon, Oprah magazine, the Daily Beast, Real Simple, Mademoiselle, Cosmopolitan, Good Housekeeping, and Texas Monthly. She and her husband, George Jones (not the dipsomaniacal C&W singer), make their empty nest in Austin with not-frequent-enough visits from son Gabriel.
How I ended up spending my panel appearance at the Texas Book Festival lying on a bench and drooling on the floor.
When Dallas’s very own Marvin Lee Aday—that’s Meat Loaf to you—optioned one of my screenplays, he didn’t just offer me a glimpse of paradise by the dashboard lights. He also helped me write a novel.
In an excerpt from Sarah Bird’s new novel The Gap Year, a single mom prepares to send her only daughter off to college. Guess which one is a wreck.
Help! My voice recognition software is making me save airy funnel things witch nobody wonder Stans.
Turns out being a test subject for a dermatology research lab is not the best thing that could ever happen to a girl.
Or, how I stopped worrying and learned to love my formerly ugly, recently hip, linoleum-clad, mid-mod house.
Every female on earth believes she can dance. My big break came when a Bob Hope wannabe with shiny suits and a pinkie ring took me on as his sidekick for a two-week tour of Tokyo.
My only son is leaving for college, and I’m weeping through Mamma Mia! Lord help me.