Meet Chip Jacobs: Author, journalist, dog-enthusiast, spiritual optimist

The argument that erupted between us that evening felt like the climax of a John Hughes coming-of-age movie. Suddenly, a 100+ people listening to a speaker up front swiveled their…


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Trailer for my true-crime book: “The Darkest Glare: A True Story of Murder, Blackmail and Real Estate Greed in 1979 Los Angeles”

If you're a fan of Quentin Tarantino movies or Elmore Leonard books, you'll love this darkly humorous, true crime thriller set in late-seventies Southern California ...


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1979 L.A. True Crime in Song

It was the faces that slayed you that year, when the only reason for a belly-laugh was a Robin Williams standup act.


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The Man Behind the Gun

Not all monsters are born that way. Sometimes, a freak accident changes their fate, and others down the line.


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My true-crime book, “The Darkest Glare,” comes out on March 9. In that spirit, I’m listing — cuz everyone adores lists as much as parfaits and stretchy pants — my favorite works in the genre.

Behind every murder is a tragedy, but also a raw story where a victim intersects with a killer in the culmination of myriad events. Some writers take the just-the-facts-man…


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First Reviews on my True Crime Book, “The Darkest Glare”

"An entertaining true-crime period piece built around a chillingly odd sociopathic villain."—Kirkus Review


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Yeah, I’ve seen the bridge — the Colorado Street Bridge and a jam session that changed me

How an obscure song from the Hammer-of-the-Gods band grew from teenage anthem to the heart of Pasadena fiction


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The Fire That Crackled Inside of Me

Up in the foothills was a wasteland of smoke. You could barely see, and breathing took concentration. Took coughing and eye-rubbing and delusion that we could achieve anything.


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The Man In The Light

Medium The baseball cracked off the bat, vanishing into the smoggy, gray sky over east Pasadena’s Eugene Field Elementary School.


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I’ve waited long enough: the story of the Man in the Light

The baseball cracked off the bat, vanishing into the smoggy, gray sky over east Pasadena’s Eugene Field Elementary School. Squinting and craning for it, I became a boy obsessed, a…


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