In the window of the children's gift shop at the Louvre.
I wanted it in my size!CONFESSION: I have never stopped playing pretend.
Sometimes, when life is a little too boring or a little too stressful, I will imagine that I am someone else. Some
where else. It's a habit that children are supposed to grow out of, but one I find far too useful to give up.
If I'm in a doctor's office, alone and scared, I'll imagine someone holding my hand. If I'm feeling chained to my desk, I'll imagine a relaxing day in another country without nary a laptop in sight. If I'm bored and driving somewhere far away, I'll imagine an amusing companion in my passenger seat.
And, sometimes, I will imagine things just to imagine things. For instance, on a recent wintry afternoon, I imagined that I was a benevolent Snow Queen riding on the back of a triceratops and waving to my people. The Snow King rode beside me, and we were wrapped in thick furs and wearing spindly, crystal-and-silver crowns.
Because . . . why not?
So it's not surprising that I write this way, too. I call the process Method Writing, because it's similar to
Method Acting. Basically, during the duration of creating a novel, I become my protagonist. I step in their shoes — sometimes literally, as I did with Lola, who loves costumes and unusual footwear! — and we talk the same, eat the same, share the same opinions, do the same activities, take the same emotional roller coaster, and . . . fall in love with the same boy.
It's often challenging to discern where I end and my characters begin. I only write about things that interest me (I cannot fathom writing something otherwise), and, therefore, a lot of me winds up in each character, and a lot of each character winds up in me. Even the not-so-nice ones. We take on each other's habits, for better and for worse. We learn from each other. And we solve our problems together.
It's a bit like therapy, honestly.
But that
falling in love bit . . . because I write romance, and love is the arc . . . that
falling in love is the trickiest bit of all.
Étienne St. Clair was easy to fall in love with. He was, in an odd way, my first. I fell for him deeply and immediately. Because of this, Cricket Bell — the boy in Lola's story — through no fault of his own, became a challenge. The overactive method side of me felt as if I were cheating on Étienne, and it took several months for me to mentally make that switch, for me to fall in love with Cricket as deeply as I had with Étienne.
Last week, I began having terrible struggle dreams. Each night, I was forced to leave my husband and fall in love with someone else. It was sad and painful. It was just plain
wrong. And it took three nights of these dreams before I realized that my unconscious was telling me that it was time to let go of Cricket and fall in love with the new boy.
Isla's boy.
How heartbreaking.
It's also nerve-wracking, and . . . kind of exciting. The strangest thing of all was something I realized this morning, while emailing a friend: Isla has had a crush on This Boy for three years (plot-wise), and I have had a crush on This Boy for three years (when the idea for the novel first occurred to me), and now it's time for us both to actually
get together and
fall in love.
I love that whole idea of art imitating life vs. life imitating art. It's a fine line, isn't it?
Which makes me wonder further . . . how will Isla change me? What habits will I pick up from her? What habits of mine will I give her? And what will we teach each other about ourselves?
This are big, scary questions. No wonder I find beginnings so intimidating!
Whiiiiich is why I spent this morning procrastinating again, this time with the
Princess Maker (linked on Twitter by
Dawn Metcalf via
@srolutola).
Guys, I'm not gonna lie to you. The Princess Maker is FREAKING AWESOME for people like me who have been in love with princess stories their whole life, and who, yes, occasionally still pretend they ARE one!
But . . . another funny thing happened.
I went there to design my perfect pretty princess, right? I wasn't sure who she would be, and, therefore, I was startled when I realized that my ideal for a princess
has not changed since childhood. She was, essentially, an idealized version of me.
I'd like to introduce you to
Princess Stephanie:
• Red HairAs a red-haired child, it was frustrating for me to see so many blonde and brunette princesses. The only redhead that existed was Ariel from
The Little Mermaid, who I was grateful for, but who never felt like a REAL PRINCESS because she had fins for half the movie. (Which is why I wish
Enchanted had existed back then! I loooove Giselle and her floofy gowns.)
• Freckles and Ghost-Pale SkinLike me, naturally.
• Green ClothingGreen has always been my favorite color, and I was obsessed with characters who wore green, most notably Robin Hood and Peter Pan. (That corset is a bit Robin Hood-esque somehow, no?) And I honestly could. not. help myself when I saw that forest green. It was as if there were no other color choices.
• Ballet-Style Dress and ShoesMy sister was a ballerina, and apparently that longing to be an older, more sophisticated sister runs deep. This also plays into my longing for grace and poise, because I am a wicked klutz.
• JewelryI chose not to give her any bracelets, because
I can't wear bracelets. I have extremely active hands — a trait which, ha ha, I gave to a character in Lola's story — and I tend to play with bracelets and break them. Also, my wrists are approximately the size of a toddler's. Stupid wrists.
• Devious ExpressionWhat can I say? I like mischief-makers! (Ah hem, Robin Hood and Peter Pan.)
• BluebirdBut I
have always wished for that one-with-nature thing. Though I like to think of it more as a superhero power than a sweetie-pie characteristic!
Now I'm curious about those of you here who also still like princesses. If you're interested, please
create one and email the image to me under the subject-heading PRINCESS (steph AT stephanieperkins.com).
There are tons of fabulous choices. The only sucky thing is the usual sucky thing, in that there's only one body shape. BOO TO ONE BODY SHAPE. But if you're still interested, the last step of the princess-making process includes choosing a background. Please pick the white background, so that I can see your princess clearly.
Give your princess a name (your own name is
ideal, of course), and I'll post an army of your princesses later this week!
In the meantime . . . I must leave this blog to fall in love with a new prince.
EDITED TO ADD, FROM MY COMMENTS: "Actually, you can pick from 2 bodies - the buttons at the top of the page with eyes and lips." Cool! Thanks, Ruthie! I wish there were more than two, though.
EDITED AGAIN TO ADD: I love the princesses that are coming in! WE SHOULD TOTALLY BE PROFESSIONAL PRINCESS DESIGNERS, YOU GUYS.
Somehow, all of this PLUS another suitcase PLUS more musical equipment had to fit in our car.
And, somehow, it did!
The conference was at the Royal Pacific Resort next to Universal Studios in Orlando, FL. 
Cars like this . . .
. . . and this, showed that we were among friends. Three thousand and four hundred of them, to be exact!
The first day was Lit Day. This picture from Bibliomantics proves that I actually sat on a panel with Scott Westerfeld, David Levithan, Robin Wasserman, John Green, and Libba Bray. I KNOW, RIGHT? It was called "I Was a Teenage Author," and it was the most fun I had all day. Tears of laughter streamed down my face! Here I am about to read from my senior-year journal, in which I meet my future husband (for real) and became mildly obsessed about him (understatement). 
The next day, Snape tried to avada kedavra me . . .
. . . but I escaped and made it to the IMAX premiere of the new film. (I'm not actually in this picture, which I stole from Oh My Rowling. I am to the left of this. You'll have to trust me.) I can't imagine a more incredible movie-going experience than seeing the last Harry Potter with the people who care about it the most. The theater sobbed and laughed and cheered as one.
At the theater, Jarrod and I sat beside my writer-friend Jade and her husband. They were visiting all the way from Australia! They'd stopped by our home in Asheville the week before, and I was puppy-dog happy to see them again. We walked around afterward and bought loads of disgusting candy and frozen yogurt. And then we couldn't bear to say goodbye, so we made breakfast plans for the next morning! PLEASE COME BACK JADE I MISS YOU COME BACK COME BACK COME BACK.
