Fan of the unexpected, respecter of the unexplainable, optimist.
Ann Jacobus writes children’s and YA fiction, blogs and tweets about it, teaches writing and volunteers weekly on a suicide crisis line. She’s published short fiction, essays and poetry in anthologies, journals, and magazines, and is the author of YA thriller Romancing the Dark in the City of Light (St. Martin’s Press, 2015). San Francisco is home to her and her family.
L o n g e r version:
I was born in West Texas. A good chunk of my childhood was spent in Arkansas. I loved theater and danced and sang in the chorus of community musicals even though I can't sing.
This photo was taken before a ballet recital when I was eleven.
I've lived all over the US and in Europe and the Middle East.
You could say all over the map.
Author Sarah Sullivan has a theory that many children's writers moved around a lot as kids.
I earned an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College of Fine Arts, and a BS from Dartmouth College.
Some jobs held:
(Paid) babysitter, dishwasher, food server, aupair, lunch cook, caterer help, retail clothing sales, production assistant, advertising junior account executive
(Unpaid) chorus girl, suicide crisis line volunteer, Sunday school teacher, orphanage and elderly home volunteer, President of the American Women's Association of the Island Kingdom of Bahrain
You’ve read down this far. Here's some bio nitty-gritty.
Fiction writers are charged with making up stuff that reveals truth. Ideally, we dig deep into our stories and sometimes explore subjects, secrets even, that are hard to talk about.
As a teen, I suffered from depression off and on for many years. I also went through a period of suicidality, the term for feeling suicidal.
Ever since, this difficult subject has pulled me, despite its stigma.
I’m also interested in just plain old everyday death. How, despite its inevitability and omnipresence, we fear it so much. How denying it and pushing it away can rob our lives of meaning. Or conversely, how embracing our mortality can enrich, deepen, and make our time on Earth more joyful and significant.
It’s a paradox.
I like them, too.
A.K. JACOBUS, author of middle-grade fiction, has contacts at the FBI, ASPCA, and NASA, and listens when dogs talk. She scared her younger siblings with tales of the Bloody Hand and worse; was a tetherball, kick ball, trampoline, monkey bar and water-skiing whiz; and never met a vegetable she didn't like. She also never met a liver she could stomach.