Sarah Bird

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.

Stories

Pedal to My Mettle

Teen Boy gets behind the wheel.

My Dirty Little Secret

I’m a slob. There, I said it. Now don’t mess with me.

Going Private

Teen Boy’s sugar-free education.

Neck And Neck

Nora Ephron’s wattle, and Ann
Richards’s, and mine.

Snakes on a Brain

The day I slithered from movie theater to movie theater.

Horn ’Em, Hookers!

Texas versus Iowa State versus me.

Tour De Farce

The absurdity of the college visit (and why you should leave your kids at home).

Good-bye, Mrs. Chips

My short, happy life as a poker player.

The Price Is Rite

Getting in touch with my inner bargain hunter.

Lark of The Covenant

Bill Zedler’s plan to keep me married—forever.

No Ifs, Abs, Or Butts

My instructor is a Flabbo Nazi, and other tales from the aerobics wars.

Hog Wild

I subject myself to yet another seminal Texas experience: the hunt.

The Triptych to Bountiful

Let’s go to the science fair!

Craigslust

Suburban mom seeks motorcycle jacket.

Home Groan

One year (okay, two days) of livin’ la vida locavore.

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