About Lauren Bjorkman

When I was a baby, my parents bought an old wood sailboat in Chesapeake Bay. For our first adventure, we — and I use the pronoun-loosely because I was two — sailed Gaucho home to California. According to legend, I hid in the sail bags, chased iguanas with a feather, and failed to notify an adult when my older sister, Jody, fell overboard. Fortunately, she survived the ordeal.

My mother died when I was five. We moved back onto the boat two years later. Gaucho never had electricity or running water. On the three-year voyage from San Francisco to Argentina, my sister and I amused ourselves with schoolwork, books, paper dolls, cooking, and building sand castles. The adventure had pros and cons:

Pros:

Visiting exciting new places

Beaches

Fresh fish

Dad reading aloud to us

Monkeys

Never having to wear shoes

My penchant for telling stories started young, earning me the nickname Theda Bara. Still, I credit my unusual childhood for giving free rein to my creativity that ultimately led to writing.

When we returned to California, I started middle school in the Bay Area, quickly growing accustomed to hot showers but still despising shoes. I had no idea how to fit in. My attempts at using mascara were humiliating. I wore a peach-hued velour top with my dark green dittos, until Jody mercifully stepped in.

So many years overseas led to a permanent sense of being an outsider. I have lived many places but belong nowhere.

I followed the usual path for a while, went to college, got married, worked a regular job, and had children. But when the chance came to write, I seized it. Books have been a lifelong love, transporting me to new places and giving me glimpses into other lives. Stories make me think and feel and imagine. I write to be part of the conversation.