ANNE_MANSON_MG_8791 - photo by Dario Aco

ANNE MANSON

Writing for young people everywhere

 
deer isle sunset.jpg

ABOUT ME

So, you want to know something about me…

I was born in America, but I’ve lived and worked just about everywhere in the world.

Things I’ve done:

  • Kayaked with dolphins

  • Run in the mountains of Colorado

  • Swum in the ice-cold waters off Prince Edward Island

  • Conducted the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra

  • Biked in the mountains above Salzburg

  • Read hundreds of spy stories and action/adventures

  • Circumnavigated the globe by sailboat…

Well, actually, I haven’t done the last one, but I’d like to.

I grew up with a series of dogs and cats, occasional chickens, two African quail, parakeets, hamsters, rabbits and very accomodating parents. I spent lots of time outdoors: hiking mountains, mowing lawns, fishing, sledding, snowshoeing, and swimming in ponds, lakes and the ocean. 

I started writing when I was really little. My first story was called "Good Fox and Bad Fox"... but I got better at titles later on. I wrote all the time - stories and novels, poetry, 'newspaper' articles, and loads of letters to my friends. 

Now I'm grown up, I have two boys and a small dog called Snowy, who does occasional detective work, mainly food-related. My sons read everything I write and are kind enough to tell me everything that’s wrong with it. I like to go on adventures with them in the wild, or just hang out, laughing hard at my own jokes. 

I live in London, but dream about the coast of Maine, and I like to pretend I can look out my window and see gulls smashing shellfish on the rocks. 

I have a Masters in Writing for Young People from Bath Spa University, and I just won PaperBound Magazine's Writing Prize for my short story, Winter.  (And yes, I'm the same Anne Manson who conducts orchestras and operas...)

 
Notebook and Pen

WINTER

Wind howled across the frozen prairie, raising spiraling plumes of snow. Bishop stared out the tiny cabin window into the wilderness, then emptied the flour bag into the week-old fat of the frying pan. It was the last of her food. She set it on the wood stove. Above the howl of the wind rose another howl—a series of them. They were closing in on her...

Paperboundmag.com/Winter issue

 
Books

CONTACT

 Would you like to ask me a question or send me a message? 

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