"Which character in your book most reminds you of yourself, and which character can you least relate to?"

I’m not sure if this is human nature, or if I’m just a narcissist, but London Abrams first came to mind as a representative of girls like me. I bonded with London over the things we have in common—particularly, our awkwardly long, lanky limbs. My original intention was to create a world in which gangly girls dream big. Call it pay back for all of those times people called me “no bigger than a minute” or obnoxiously asked me if I’m anorexic. Whatever the motivation, a character was born. But, in the writing process, London became her own person.

In all her volleyball glory, she’s a lot braver than I am. I shy away from conflict. (Okay, more like cower in the face of conflict, but that’s neither here nor there.) For London, conflict is just another word for competition, and she’s one lovingly competitive chica.

As it turns out, London is most like me when she is least like herself—impulsive. A creature of habit, London strays from her script when she falls for Brent St. James. As suddenly as Cupid’s arrow strikes the poor girl, London finds herself doing wacky, uncharacteristic things in the name of a crush—namely, signing up for a local modeling contest. Crush-attack is the new temporary insanity and London’s plays the part big time, just as I would (and have!).

I can most relate to London’s best friend Pam. Pam has a bit of flair for the dramatic like my Haitian family. (Dramatic quote of the summer: “I feel like…throwing myself on the floor.” —my sister Judy, upon first seeing the detested new haircut worn by the weatherman on her TV set.) My husband likes to joke about all the “oh no!” moments my sisters and I have…in one afternoon! Put too much salt in the rice you’re cooking? "Oh NO!" Missed the bus? “Oh NO!” Grab the cell phone and whine about it to whichever sister is available. Be sure to add in how tired and achy your feet are as you stand at the bus stop. And, oh, the extra morsels of misfortune you can sprinkle into your story if it’s starts to rain. Hoo—don’t get me started!