As salaamu alaikum.
When I first began to write, one of the only pieces of advice my English teacher gave me was to follow the golden rule in literature, write about what you know.
I did not take this advice.
I saw no reason to write about my own life, not when it seemed so repetitive and boring. Despite their complaints about unrealistic books, I have a secret suspicion that people do not actually want to read books that tell the truth, real life is not a fairytale. A book, since its story is dictated by a human, is likely to have happy ending. The main character will not die in the middle of their life, we will not have to experience the pain of having a person we knew so well unable to fulfill their dreams.
And so, I write books about perfect people, ones I would like to be. My characters do not often embarrass themselves or have tremendous, excruciatingly pronounced faults. I both write and read to live a different life than the one I do, one far more interesting, one in which I am what I wish to be, instead of who I am.
After all, what do we read books and watch movies for except to live in a fairytale for a while?
However, in every book I have written, there are parts of me littered in the pages. Though the circumstances may change, each book holds a piece of me, of my character.
This book is different.
It's true, many of the things that will happen in this book have not happened to me. Many of both the struggles and the joys that the main character will experience are ones that I have not. However, the journey of this character is one that will hold many elements of my own.
Looking back at my books, I see parts of myself frozen in time, first innocent, then painful, then okay, then painful again, then happier.
My hope would be that in this book, more than in any of my others, I might be able to present not only the version of myself that now exists, but the transition between the different ones, and by doing so, tell a more complete story. My hope would be that I might make someone feel less alone or less helpless, or at the very least have record of this change for myself.
YOU ARE READING
The Perfect Girl
Teen Fiction"You..." he rasped in my ear, voice firm, "are so, so, so, beautiful, love--" a kiss to the tip of my nose, "it is actually--" a kiss to my chin, "unbelievable--" a kiss to my jaw, "and it is so--" a kiss to the inside of my wrist, "obvious to ever...
