Bio

R.S. Johnson

On July 10, 1982, while Larry Parrish was hitting his third grand slam of the week and Zimbabwe was winning a forgotten cricket match (apparently, it was a slow day), Rebecca was born.  Her twin brother beat her out by seven and a half minutes.  He hasn't let her forget it since.

She lined up as third of six children, inheriting all middle child traits and deficiencies therein.  Except chocoholism.  That came from somewhere else.

At the age of two, she spotted her first monster in the closet, and she’s really been seeing them ever since.  Her list of closets includes a doorless box in Lincoln, a wardrobe in Hong Kong, and the current rather sketchy number crawling with Hawaiian shirts and overalls.

Her school years were spent squirming through hours of lectures in very disagreeable chairs, dreaming of becoming the first female trainer to win the Kentucky Derby.  That dream has yet to fade completely.  She did not attend college.

Raised mostly in the cornfields of un-mountained Nebraska, Rebecca inherited her hippie/hitchhiker father’s love for travel.  Senegal, Uganda, China, Haiti, the Philippines, and England all carry memories of her footprints.  She’s eaten a snake that almost bit her, circumnavigated the globe, and stood in the midst of a herd of galloping horses.  None of which has killed her.  Yet.

Her best-loved verse is Isaiah 40:31, which is probably why she chases eagles on horseback every chance she gets.  Her habits include walking a 120-pound German Shepherd, burning broccoli on purpose, and sticking her nose in flowers with the rather dreadful suspicion they might bite.  She currently spends her days sitting in a bright yellow chair, perfecting her official writing debut, The Unraveling, a young adult Christian fantasy.

Her highest aspiration is to ride an elephant.  Bareback.  In the ocean.

(* Rebecca does not know how to drive a motorcycle. *)