A Tale of Two Pretties

It is November 29, 2010. I am staring at my computer screen, faced with one of the biggest challenges of my writing career—and
believe me, there have been many. But this one feels more insurmountable than all of them combined, times ten. Because my
editor just asked who I would like to dedicate this final Clique book to. And I seriously can’t decide.

My parents for teaching me to love and nurture my inner freak? Yes. My brother and sister for the lifetime of laughter? Yes.
My husband for keeping me calm when I am spinning like Johnny Weir without the skates? Yes! The little creatures in my house
who kiss me every morning before I go off to work? Mmwah! My ah-mazing editors for their brilliant guidance,
contributions, and schedule-juggling? Yes! Yes! Yes! The publicity and marketing teams who remind you that I exist? Absolutely.
My publisher and producer for backing me? Indeed. The team at Warner Premiere for turning the Clique into a movie? Certainly.
The cast and crew who brought it to life? Uh-huh. My kick-butt agent for being so much more than a kick-butt agent? Given.
My attorney and his team for making me feel like family instead of a client? Yup! My friends at MTV for the most inspiring
and hilarious years of my life? Of course. Brilliant novelists who fill me with awe? Sure. My BFFs, who have watched me, year
after year, vanish into the “cone of silence” while I work on another book; who have heard me say, “This is the last time
I will fall of the face of the earth, I promise”—only to watch me disappear again? Definitely. Spell-check for making it seem
like I was listening in English class instead of daydreaming? Yesiree. The teachers, librarians, booksellers, bloggers, magazines,
newspapers, and critics who have supported this series? You betcha. The parents and grandparents who have bought my books
and encouraged their kids to read? One hundred percent. The chai tea latte–makers, gum-sellers, food delivery guys, sushi
chefs, musicians, scented-candle manufacturers, and Internet inventors who have made it possible for me to stay in my office
chair for nine hours a day? Roger that.

Clearly, hundreds are final-dedication contenders. But only one can be worthy. So what does that mean? Is it a sign? Is the
universe telling me it’s not time to end the Clique? Should I keep writing about the Pretty Committee until I have managed
to thank everyone who needs to be thanked? I’ll admit, I’ve considered it. But once again, as sad as it is, I have to stand
by my decision and leave while the party is still going.

I know you are disappointed. I have read your letters (thousands) and the comments on my Blah-g (thousands and thousands).
But it’s time.

In 2002, when I began the Clique, pop culture was different. Materialism was trendy. The more designer initials on a handbag
the better. “Who are you wearing?” was more important than what you were wearing. Green stood for money, not the environment.
It was a time of excess, and everyone was proud to wear their wealth on their silk sleeves. Friends were upgraded like cell
phones and girls seemed more loyal to a lip-gloss brand than their besties.

When I started writing
The Clique
, I wanted to show you how despicable bullying, snobbery, and elitism are by creating a character—Massie Block—who worked
tirelessly, and often heartlessly, to maintain her alpha status. My goal was to show you that the so-called
perfect girl is far from perfect. And that, more times than not, she’s more insecure than the no-so-perfect girls—Claire Lyons
and Layne Abeley. You got it
wayyyy
before the grownups did. I knew you would.

Now, eight years later, things are very different. The economy has tanked. Snatching up a killer pair of boots from Target
or H&M has become a bigger source of pride than a $5,000 handbag. National security is the new insecurity. And I pray that
the fatal reports of bullying (cyber and live) have forced you all to take an honest look at how you treat others.

I don’t feel as compelled to shine a light on shallow behavior as I did in 2002, simply because there is less of it. Is it
gone? Sadly, no. But it’s not as ubiquitous as it used to be. I also think Massie and the Pretty Committee have learned a
lot about themselves and the true meaning of friendship. Are they perfect? Puh-lease. Who is? But they are more grounded than
they were when the series began. So am I. Are you?

As long as I write, I will always fill my books with goofiness. That’s one thing that will never change. Because that’s who
I am. And I can’t thank you enough for accepting me; for coming back month after month; for joining the biggest Clique in
the world; for being final-book dedication worthy.

And so,
A Tale of Two Pretties
is for _________.
^*
My loyal, brilliant, always improving, wonderfully imperfect reader. You were, are, and always will be the wind beneath my
freak flag. Until we meet again…