But two things stood out as Blah-g-worthy.

One is this picture I found. It’s my family the day I graduated Emerson College. Em er some serious glares from the flash but try to look past that.

At the time I had no idea I’d be a writer. No idea printed photographs would become obsolete. No idea what I’d do the next day to pay my rent.

There’s something creepy and empowering about looking back on this picture now that I know how my story has evolved. How the world has evolved. How my hair has evolved.

We returned to Laguna Beach on Monday and went straight to Sapphire, our favorite local restaurant. As the hostess, an ah-dorable girl named Natalie, led us to the table (the best one–thx Natalie!!) she said she recently reread the first Clique book. It came out when she was nine. She is nineteen now. Ten years!!! Seriously?? How did that happen? I am about to release my 30th book.

I want to slip into that old photograph (is there an app for that?) and grab the bottle of champagne from unemployed Lisi’s monkey paw. At that moment she was broke, financially cut off from her parents, using an electric typewriter (no spell check!!). I want to pop the cork and pour us a glass and say, “We’ve come a long way, baby!”

Which brings me to the second amazing thing. The Pretenders groundhog poked her head out of the Canadian soil last week and you know what that means… Pretender’s season is starting early this year!!!!!!!!!

Everyone at Little Brown is so pumped about the series they have changed the release date. It’s not longer 10.15. It’s now OCTOBER 1st. Erin my editor/groundhog called last week to tell me the news. By the time we hung up** the phone I felt like I had done an hour of cardio. That’s how pumped my internal organs were.

We released a (RHYME ALERT) sneak peek last week of chapter one on foreveryoungadult.com but that is soooo last week. This week you can get an ebook free preview available wherever ebooks are sold! So grab your nook, your kindle, your iPad, your Ouija Board, and sneak that peek. You’re so worth it.

Let me know ASAP who your favorite Pretender is and which boy you’d rather watch a horror movie with.

Talk to me!!!

TTYW,

Lisi

** I just realized how unfit that expression is for 2013. Phones don’t “hang up” any more. Calls end. Gawd English language…keep up, will ya?

The post Photographic Memory appeared first on Lisi Harrison.

It’s Spring Break for a lot of you right now and since spring weather hasn’t sprung for most of us I’ve decided to focus on the break part. That means no blah-g reading for you and no blah-g writing for me. That doesn’t mean you’re totally free though. I still need you so sit back down and focus.

I have to put a new author photo on the Pretenders series and I need help. Which one do you like? I HATE posing more than I hate cardio. So you can only imagine how painful this was for me. Be nice.

Here’s what we’ll call them:

#1- Who Invited The Serious Author?

#2-Sassy Smirk.

#3- Romance, Party of One.

#4- The Goober That I Am.

I’d love your feedback, since you are my inner circle.

TTYW,

Lisi

The post Photo Bomb! appeared first on Lisi Harrison.

But first, say hello to Vanessa Charlot Riley.

The English assignment given by Ms. Silver on September 6, 2011, @ 1:47 PM is as follows: Each student must record his or her innermost thoughts and feelings during freshman year at Noble High. The goal is to have a safe place to connect with ourselves. The challenge will be finding our voices and the courage to embrace them. These journals will not be graded or read. Ms. Silver will inspect them at the end of the year to make sure we filled all 250 pages. That is it. We will also have to write an essay about self-discovery and what we learned. But we are not supposed to focus on that now.
At 1:49 PM I inquired as to whether we would benefit by filling additional journals. To which she responded, “Not in the form of grades.” To which I asked, “Will our GPAs benefit?” To which she replied, “No. Your soul will.” To which I thought, “Forget it, then.”
Thusly, my strategy moving forward is to pen one journal’s worth of “innermost thoughts and feelings” while focusing primarily on reward-based endeavors. I will, however, transcribe all feelings and thoughts associated with said “endeavors” here. Since that’s the whole point of this exercise.
I will commence with a brief character profile.
My name is Vanessa Charlot Riley. I am fourteen. My hair is light brown and as curly as an old-fashioned telephone cord. I have green eyes and caramel-colored skin. My mother hails from Haiti, my father Queens. I’m told I look like a much, much, much younger Vanessa Williams. Better than Venus Williams. Ha.
As columnist Gina Simmons from the Noble Independent put it, “Exotic and striking, even Vanessa’s features overachieve…” And my middle school principal signed my yearbook with, “Beauty and Brains, you are proof that girls can, and should, have both.”
I prefer using quotes to characterize myself for three reasons:
1) Quotes promote opinions to facts.
2) No one likes a gloater.
3) I must be liked.
My favorite hobby is winning. It’s euphoric. The endorphins fill my heart with sunshine and carbonate my blood. Sadly, said “hobby” has an ugly side too. One I oft compare to the ever-stale Bazooka bubble gum; tough work for a moment of sweetness. But, oh, how sweet that moment is. Hence, the reason I’m always chasing that next piece.
Well, it’s kind of the reason.
Veritas ? It goes deeper than sunshine and carbonated blood. I’m just not sure how to explain it, since “it” is more of a feeling than an actual thing.
Actually, it’s fragments of a feeling. Fleeting fragments like scattered dandelion fluff. Fuzzy bits drift by but I’ve never tried to grab them or piece them into thoughts. Maybe because thinking them in full would make them real. And I don’t want them to be real because they have to do with my parents. But you asked for innermost so I’m going to connect the fuzzy bits and tell you what I try not to think about. Ready?
It’s my parents. How much they fight. And why that affects my grades and wardrobe.
This morning began with a screaming match about my older brother A.J. Then it became about Dad and how he’d rather dissect computers than listen to stories about Mom’s evil boss at the hotel. Which transitioned into the things Mom flushes down the toilet. Nothing says “Good luck on your first day of high school” like an argument about clogged pipes.
I’m never involved in these squabbles but I am allergic to conflict so I suffer. Veritas? Fighting sounds make me itchy. I have red marks all over my arms and legs to prove it. You’d think I was jumped by the Real Housewives of New Jersey on Acrylic Day.
Peers assume I’m modest because I wear long sleeves to keep from scratching. Modesty on a girl with features that “overachieve” does make her more likable, so it’s not all bad. But it’s not all good, either. Obvious frump factor aside, running track in sweats leads to heatstroke. In 98 percent humidity it induces hallucinations. But it’s worth it. First place means my parents will stay together another day. And second means they might not. So I cover up and run like a nose in flu season.
You see, every time I get an A, or win something, or am elected, or crowned, or honored, or published, or profiled, we celebrate at Benihana’s. A.J. and I can order anything we want. Wear whatever we want. We’re even allowed to get double desserts. The only thing we can’t do at Beni’s is fight. It’s our family rule. And like chewed Bazooka it sticks.
In summation: Overachieving = Benihana’s = Peace = No divorce.
Simple.
If you focus on success, you’ll have stress. But if you pursue excellence, success will be guaranteed. ―Deepak Chopra

For more on Vanessa check out her Pinterest boards. http://pinterest.com/lisiharrison/vanessa/

Have a great week!

TTYW

Lisi

The post The Long Leakend appeared first on Lisi Harrison.

In honor of your sixteenth thirteenth birthday, I will leak another journal entry from the formerly-named-soon-to-be-renamed-Phoenix-Five. Meet Lily Bader-Huffman.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011.

Here are the headlines: My name is Lily, I turn fifteen next month, and I am eating for three. Wait, I think it’s four if you count me, and ready for this, Mom and Dad are klueless kuz I still look way-skinny thanks to Karess.

Not only is Karess an educated personal trainer slash DJ on Sundays, he is the father of my triplets. Oh, and he’s all into spelling C words with K’s so now I am too.

Back to my skinnyness.

Karess recommended protein bars and energy drinks to keep the baby weight off and ready for this: Five months pregnant and I’ve already lost 11 pounds. Kan you believe?

Once I “show” we’ll Greyhound it to L.A. and open a gym called Kut. It will kost a million dollars to join so we kan get rich in one day. Karess wants to name the kids Karb, Kalorie, and Kardio. Luv it. Luv him. Luv the kreativity.

School is for unpregnant losers. Like what’s the point of this journal assignment if I’m going to open a gym? Also my hand is shaking kuz I’ve had seven energy drinks on an empty stomach. Well, empty of food, not triplets. Point is it’s hard to write.

Klass is over! Next stop, kemistree.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011.

(Midnight)

I left my journal on the kitchen table for six whole hours. Mom made two attempts to bust the lock, first at 4:27 PM and again at 7:19 PM, but she couldn’t guess my combo (A.D.’s b-day). Even if she did, and then managed to hide the clues, I’d know. That fake entry about Karess would shock her blind. She’d start circling the living room like a mad cow; slamming into bookcases, knocking over newspaper stacks, tripping on lamp cords. Believe me, I’d know.

Thanks to this sturdy locking mechanism, I can be free. Free to discover the real Lily Bader-Huffman. Not the A+ student, with the hot male best friend, who has been home-schooled for eight years. The one who is forming beneath her. Growing like a shadow. Faceless and distorted; elongating and reaching; determined to make her secret dream come true. Determined to be normal and popular and kissed by—

Uh-oh…footsteps.

Lily Bader-Huffman version 2.0

Next week I will leak the final character’s entry and eventually the series title. UGH! Something white just splattered on my shoulder… There’s some serious fly-arrhea going on in this office. I’m going to make like a PC and open my Windows.

TTYW,

Lisi

The post HAPPY BIRD-DAY! appeared first on Lisi Harrison.

I must admit I don’t drink enough water and I ADORE being tanned so I’m afraid I have to thank my Bubbie Rose for the skin. Hers was seriously insane. I think growing up on the east coast helped because I could only melatonin-binge in the summer months. One thing I did do was moisturize with vitamin E cream every single day, even as far back as middle school. I never sleep in makeup. And I wash with Cetaphil. Nothing fancy. Pinky swear.

Okay, fine. You want to know the truth? I have a zit on the side of my face that I have been picking like crazy. Said zit will be a crater and eventually a scar if I don’t stop but my GAWD its impossible to stop. Look…

While I’m on the subject of truth, here is the first secret journal entry from my third character in ex-Phoenix Five. Meet Jagger.

Sept. 6.
Feelings? Get real. I stopped having feelings on February 13, 2011-the day my parents got tossed in jail.  
I’ve been emancipated since I was fourteen.
I’m fifteen now.
I live alone.
I take care of myself.
I don’t have time for feelings.
My name is Jagger.
I don’t even have time for a last name.

-J

TTYW,

Lisi

The post Zit Wit appeared first on Lisi Harrison.

This is going to be a great year. I can feel it in my eyes, which are so swollen I had to wear sunglasses in the shout out picture below. Since I am starting the year off full of positivity I’ll assume that the random inflamation had been caused by an excess of good luck inside my body. It’s putting pressure on my skin, trying to find a way out so it can start working for me. Same explanation for my expanding belly. More good luck.

Do I have a new title for Phoenix Five yet? Nope. My editor Erin, (whom I ah-dore) is still encouraging (positive term) me to come up with something new. Yes, she saw your suggestions. Yes, she loved them. Just not enough to pick one. But, thanks to the good fortune gathering strength behind my skin, that title is going to ride the tidal wave of luck right out of my brain and into her inbox. Any day now… I swear.

And while we wait for that title-tidal-wave please enjoy another leak peek at an entry from my soon-to-be-named novel due for release Sept. 2013. This is Duffy’s first journal entry. Well, his name is actually Andrew Duffy but everyone calls him Duffy and it works because he’s hot.

9.6.11

Andrew Duffy. Andrew Duffy. Andrew Duffy. Andrew Duffy. Andrew Duffy. Andrew Duffy. Andrew Duffy. Everyone calls me Duffy. Duffy. Duffy. Duffy. Duffyyyyyyyyyyy.

Duffy.

Duffy.

Duffy.

Duffy.

Duffy.

Duffy.

Duffy.

Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um.

Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um.

Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um. Um .

How am I supposed to write 250 pages about feelings in one year? Do we even have 250 feelings?

I’d ask Ms. Silver but she said no questions. Just write. Don’t worry about spelling or grammar or structure. Just write. She said some other stuff about pressure and being a freshman, but I yawned, and when I yawn I go deaf for a second. So I missed that part. Then she gave out these cases with locks so our thoughts stay private. But the logo on my bag is the same as the one on those girly boxes my sisters jam in the trash. Like a half-open flower or something.

Uh, thanks Ms. Silver but I don’t see how carrying a purse full of feelings is gonna help me deal with being a freshman. It might get me killed though.

Some skinny dude by the window is drumming on his journal with a pencil. It’s kinda annoying and kinda bold cuz it’s a major diss to the teacher. She keeps looking up from her laptop but he’s not stopping. I bet he’s gonna be this year’s Class-ick. Last year it was Benji Stryker. He stole Hud’s DS and offered to sell it back to him for double the price. And Hud actually—

Ms. Silver just busted the drummer. He’s wearing this old Rolling Stones concert shirt and she called him Mick. Mostly everyone laughed. I didn’t. It would have been cooler if she called him Charlie Watts, cuz Charlie’s the drummer in the Stones. The guy does have a Mick thing going on though even though the real Mick’s hair is brown and the Class-ick’s is auburn (I know that means reddish-brown because my sister Mandy is always stinking up the bathroom with her hair color kits.) But their cuts are similar. You know, long and choppy. And he’s got that frog face girls would like if he was famous. Anyway, he stopped pencil drumming so that’s good.

I want to look behind me and see what Coops is doing so I will. I will look behind me and see what Coops is doing. One, two, three…

I just saw Coops’ scalp. Either he has lice or dandruff because there were these white specks in his hair. His head is down like he’s taking a test. What is he writing about? Our other buddy Hudson is in a different class. Which is fine, I guess. We’ll all be on the basketball team together. I can’t wait for tryouts. Playing varsity is going to be so cool.

Now what? Now what?

Now what?

Now what?

NOW WHAT?

Those What I did Over Summer Vacation essays were cool because I got to write the same thing every year.

1. Listen to my older sisters fight.
2. Basketball camp.
3. Shoot hoops with Coops and Hud after camp so I don’t have to listen to my older sisters fight.
4. Go on a boys only fly fishing trip with my dad so we don’t have to listen to my older sisters fight.

My essay was in paragraph form of course. But I decided to do it this way because numbering takes up more space.

Duffy. Duffy has the ball. Duffy is on fire. Duffy is unstoppable. Duffy shoots the winning basket!

Woo-hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo[CopyEdit2]

Some girl in a yellow dress saw me making those o’s. Then she smiled. She has red lipstick on her tooth. I turned away really fast like I had some big feeling that needed to be written down. And now I’m just writing and writing to look busy. I hope someone tells her about her tooth. It looks like blood but I know it’s not, because my Bubbie Libby gets that all the time.

Bubbie is what Jewish people call their grandmothers. We’re not Jewish. But Bubbie Libby is. She converted when my grandfather died because she thinks Jewish men are good listeners, and she wants to die knowing what it feels like to have a real conversation. So she lives with us and waits for the Chosen One. Whatever that’s about.

Maybe I’ll email Amelia tonight. She got a scholarship to an all girls college in New York. She’s into poetry and women’s rights and talking about girl things that me and my dad do NOT want to hear about. She’s smart with journals and has tons of them locked in a safe. Like anyone would ever want to read this stuff.

The bell.

Later.

The post DUFF LUCK appeared first on Lisi Harrison.

Thanks to Alisha for writing such an ah-mazing blah-g while I was gone. I have to say, I saw her before I left and while she always looks stunning, she did seem more at ease. So I can vouch for the authenticity of her joyful ending. Yay office elf!

I also want to thank you all for your honest feedback regarding the title for Phoenix Five. The tribe has spoken. Most of you are not fans of the title. Soooooo I am in the process of tearing out my highlights trying to find a new one. Which I will certainly run by you before I commit. You did seem happy with the little teaser I posted so I am going to give you more.

In the (nameless) novel there is a letter from the mysterious person who leaks these journals but I’ll save that for the book and skip right to the first entry. This is from Sheridan Spencer. She uses a screenplay-type format because she is obsessed with acting. ENJOY!

Tuesday 9.6.11

INTERIOR. NOBLE HIGH—ALMOST LUNCHTIME.

A classroom stretches out before us. SHERIDAN SPENCER, an alluring freshman, sits center row, center seat. Poised, she click-starts her pen and writes.

Morning One as a Noble High freshman did not involve a lot of hand-holding. Like, none, in fact. Which was fine. It’s just not what I’m used to.

One might assume I do well in new situations because I channel celebrities for confidence. Like, right now for example, I am pretending to be Blake Lively. But if I’m being totally honest, which I am, first days are hard no matter how famous you act.

When I (as Blake) arrive someplace new I’m greeted right away. I’m given a tour of the set and offered a Dr. Pepper on ice, no straw. My trailer is decorated to my exact specifications; boho-chic and stocked with Original, Tropical, and Tart-N-Tangy Skittles. But this morning? Notsomuch. The only rainbow I tasted came from the Lucky Charms burp I tried to suppress at the Pick and Flick. (That’s what everyone calls the pick-up/drop-off curb.)

FLASHBACK.

It happened as I watched the taillights on my dad’s 750Li disappear into the morning fog. I was standing with my very best friend, Audri Dunsing. She always rides with me because we live in the same gated community and…well, more on her later. The point is we were just standing on the Pick and Flick because we didn’t know where to go yet. I guess we could have followed everyone else, but we were kind of stunned because our middle school was tiny and this place is huge. Anyway, it’s raining and I’m trying to open my zebra umbrella. Backpacks are bashing into us and it’s total chaos. O’course, that’s when Audri gets a whiff of my burp and decides to shout:

Ewwwwww, Sheridan! Digestive tract issues much?

I managed to apply more Russian Red lipstick, which helped me hold on to a bit of Blake. But not enough. I was seriously mortified. So I go: Sick! What is that smell? while fanning the air all innocent. Then I fan-smacked some older Blair Waldorf–type in the neck.

Sorry, it was an accident. (Me.)

You’re the accident! (Her.)

Remember those old cartoons where the coyote runs off a cliff and freezes in the air? It isn’t until he looks down and realizes he’s in trouble that he falls. Well, that’s kind of what happened to me when Blair and her friends started laughing. I realized I wasn’t really Blake Lively and my confidence took a dive—whistle sound effects and all. Which turned me back into me: Sheridan Spencer, future star of the screens, including but not limited to TV, film, computer, and tablet. Current blooper.

Anyway, I pull Audri off the main path and onto the grass lawn—which is huge, by the way. As big as Spencer BMW (my dad’s dealership), which has, like, hundreds of sedans and SUVs, and I go: Thanks a lot, Audri!

O’course she starts speed-blinking and I know exactly where this is going. Yes, I have a stronger stage presence than Audri. (I’ve played leads in Wizard of Oz, Wicked, Annie, Mary Poppins, Beauty and the Beast, Hansel and Gretel, High School Musical, The Little Mermaid, Grease, and six holiday tributes to the birth of Jesus.) But when it comes to fake crying? She’s the best. Our old drama coach called her Meryl Weep.

Why did you call me out on that burp? (Me. Not letting it go.)

Sniffle, sniffle. I’m sorry. (Meryl.)

She took off her signature blue-framed glasses, jammed them in the pocket of her Lucky Brand denim jacket, and wiped her wet cheeks. I rolled my eyes.

Watch those tears little freshman! (Some random blond guy.)

He had choppy layers and blue eyes like Niall Horan from One Direction. But zero of Niall’s charm. I’m guessing from his rounded shoulders that he underdelivered on stage presence too. Anyway, after the tears comment he said: I drove the convertible. If you make it rain I’m going to stuff you in my trunk. Then he jingled his car keys in Audri’s face the way my mom used to do with the twins.

What was that for? I asked after he left.

Audri shrugged and put her glasses back on.

FLASHBACK OVER.

Whatever Zero Direction meant about the rain, he was right. It’s been pouring for hours. The good news is there have been no further embarrassments. The horrible news is that Audri and I don’t have a single class together. Not even lunch. And so far no one has made any effort to meet me. Maybe tomorrow I’ll channel a more approachable blonde like Reese Witherspoon.

Ms. Silver just gave us the ten minute warning. So far she’s my favorite teacher. All we’ve done is write in these journals. She wants us to fill these pages by the end of the year. She swears she won’t read them. To prove it she gave us these leather cases with locks on them. She said she’d flip through the journals at the end of the year to make sure they’re full but that’s it. All she cares about is getting us away from computers. I’m going to record everything and eventually adapt these memoirs into a one-woman show. I can’t wait to tell Audri so she can do it too.

OMG! So the guy beside me has been scribbling furiously in his journal. Hold on. I’m gonna peek.

OMG! OMG! I side-eyed him at the exact same time he was side-eyeing me. It was a simultaneous side-eye. I smiled my eyes into narrow crinkles (like Blake’s). I must look fetching in my Russian Red lipstick because he got all nervous and looked away. And it looks like he’s drawing hearts!

Are his hearts for me? Is he even cute? I want to peek again but—

The bell.

To Be Continued…

END SCENE.

The post Sneak Leak appeared first on Lisi Harrison.

    Random note: I can’t stop eating Cherry Passion Tic Tacs. I want to but I can’t. I’m starting to feel sick from them and I can’t control myself. The good news is these Tic Tacs are making me Tick Talk. So I am going to leak a page from Phoenix Five. Which, by the way, might end up being called something else My publisher thinks the title sounds like a Sci-Fi series.  What do you guys think?

The following is the forward I wrote for the book.

A FORWARD BY LISI HARRISON    

Nickel-colored storm clouds skulked above Noble High like timid freshmen.  Summer break was over. Notebooks were blank, sneakers were clean, destinies unknown. The seventh annual back-to-school downpour was all anyone could accurately predict.
Older students, and even some teachers, claimed the rain was really evaporated tears from terrified ninth graders. Because along with obvious “first day” stressors like; outfit regret, humidity hair, lame locker location, crush blushing, classroom confusion, lunch tray collisions, and loser abusers, Noble High students were expected to make like Microsoft and Excel. ‘Achieve or Leave’ was their unofficial motto; the Harvard of High School their unofficial name.   

Ranked number one in the country for nearly two decades, the prestigious institution was the reason most families stayed there. Without it, Noble would just be another drive-thru town off the I-95; a weed in the Garden State.    

Not that it would ever come to that. Scandals destroyed schools and Noble High didn’t do scandals. Yet in 2012, sometime over Labor Day weekend, that changed. Students returned from vacation to find copies of stolen journals propped up against their lockers. Journals written by five freshmen. Journals no one was ever supposed to see.     

Now the clouds over Noble High will rain tears, not just for one day, but for many months to come.

(MY SIGNATURE WILL GO HERE)

If I find myself flush with holiday spirit I might leak an actual entry after Thanksgiving.

TTYAT,

Lisi

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