I'm not here for the good little boys and girls.  I'm here for the bad ones who need a way out.

Meredith Wood has always had a passion for creating other worlds.  As a child this was expressed through hours of make-believe.  As a teen, though, she convinced herself that in order to fit in she had to staunch the flow of her creation.  That way led to many problems.  By the age of sixteen, in order to fill that empty space, she was heavy into drugs and had quit school. 

One day her therapist put a notebook in her lap and said, “If it’s in your head, then put it in here.”  Soon what began as a therapy for her numerous emotional problems became an obsession that wouldn’t be denied.  What happened next was a long and painful rebuilding of her life—only this time, her creative nature was front and center.  When she married, her husband continued to encourage her passions, even going so far as to make a trip to the store at three in the morning merely because she needed more paper.  It wasn’t long before she asked for a computer since her pen couldn’t keep up with how fast the words flowed through her mind. 

Now days, you can find her in the northern part of Arkansas.  She’s usually behind a huge stack of research books tapping away on her keyboard.  When she isn’t writing, she’s helping her husband coach softball, taking care of their three children, baking pies, or giving her maltipoo Kensie, otherwise known as Dirty White Girl, another bath.


Why do I write YA?         

My teenage years can be described as nothing but a hot mess. Still, in all the years since then, I can't say I've laughed as much, cried as much, or lived as much. Between school, work, homework, a social life, and their other pursuits teens carry an insane amount of responsibility on their shoulders, yet you rarely find them ignoring an opportunity to enjoy life along the way. My answer is simple. I'm addicted to their energy.

How long have I been writing?

I started writing poems while I was still in elementary. By junior high if a friend wanted a letter written, I was the one they came to. I used to say that I was a tongue-tied mess with words, but give me a pen and a paper and I could go on for days. This is still true.

At around sixteen, I began writing novellas in either verse or prose depending on my mood for the week. Sometime in my early twenties, I began to play around with novels, but it wasn't until my late twenties that my fiction works began to take form.