Susan Rebecca White

Susan Rebecca White is the author of the critically acclaimed novels Bound South and A Soft Place to Land. Born and raised in Atlanta, she spent many years in San Francisco before returning to her hometown, where she teaches creative writing at Emory University. Visit her online at
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Books by this Author


Susan Rebecca White: What Are You Reading?

Susan Rebecca White on how Meg Wolitzer's The Interestings reminds her of her college years.

Author Revealed

Susan Rebecca White
Q. Who is your favorite fictional villain?

A. The Misfit from "A Good Man is Hard to Find."

Q. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you choose to be?

A. In Glenna Hunter's massage hut, called Chez Bamboo, which is located behind a gorgeous old inn in Mendocino, CA. Of course I wouldn't just be *in* Chez Bamboo, I'd be lying on a heated table, being massaged with essential oils by Glenna herself, the wisest person I know.

Q. What’s your best quality?

A. Generosity.

Q. What are your 5 favorite songs?

A. "I Want to Sing that Rock and Roll" by Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. "Suspicious Minds" sung by Elvis. "Prayer Without Words" by Mary Guathier. "Trouble" by Cat Stevens. "Black Flowers" by Yo La Tengo.

Author Voices

April 28, 2009

Mother’s Day Contest My sister, Lauren Myracle, YA author extraordinaire, has a fantastic new book coming out titled Peace, Love and Baby Ducks. To celebrate its May 14th release she is running a ducky contest on her website. Check it out at Lauren is having so much fun with her contest that I decided to run one, too…and so, (drum roll, please) to honor the mothers and daughters who live within the pages of Bound South, and to honor real-live mothers everywhere (or the memories of those mothers,) I am running a mother of a mother’s day contest, the RUTH’S RIGHTEOUS BROWNIES GIVEAWAY!! And who,... see more

November 17, 2008

I have always loved to cook.

My mother swears that I successfully cracked my first egg when I was two. 

At eight I’d write the grocery list, and Mom would drop me off at the A&P while she ran other errands.  Ladies would watch, bemused, as I tapped one melon after another, listening for the hollow sound that is the telltale sign of ripeness.

I fixed chicken with wild mushrooms for my grandmother once when she was babysitting, writing the menu on my mother’s thick stationary and beginning the evening by offering Grandma a cocktail.

I was eleven. 

During college, while my friends were... see more



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