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Meg's Blog

PARTY TIME, PRINCESS MIA STYLE!

It's here!

is available now in US stores!

And don't forget to pick up a copy of the paperback edition of PRINCESS DIARIES 6, PRINCESS IN TRAINING (also new in stores).

To celebrate these releases, here's another exclusive sneak peek at PRINCESS DIARIES 7, PARTY PRINCESS (but first, check out this awesome
review from Sunday's Cleveland Plain Dealer. This reviewer actually says my book isn't fluff! She says it's edgy! I've always dreamed of being called edgy!) Oh, yeah, here's my EDGY sneak peek:

PARTY PRINCESS SNEAK PEEK #2:

Wednesday, March 3, Gifted and Talented

So at lunch today Boris Pelkowski put his tray down next to mine and said, “So I hear we're broke.”

And I seriously lost it.

“YOU GUYS,” I yelled at the entire lunch table. “YOU HAVE TO STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS. WE'RE TRYING TO KEEP IT A SECRET.”

Then I explained about how much I value my life, and how I do not care for it to be cut short by an enraged hapkido brown-belt valedictorian with monkey-like strength in her upper torso (even if, by killing and/or maiming me, she would actually be doing me a favor, since then I wouldn't have to live with the humiliation of having my boyfriend forsake me because I am not a party girl).

“She would never kill you, Mia,” Boris pointed out, helpfully. “Lars would shoot her first.”

Lars, who was showing Tina's bodyguard, Waheem, all the games on his new Sidekick, looked up upon hearing his name.

“Who is planning to kill the princess?” Lars asked, alertly.

“No one,” I said, from between gritted teeth. “Because we're going to get the money before she ever finds out. RIGHT????”

I think I must have really impressed them with my seriousness, since they all went, “Okay.”

Then Perin thankfully changed the subject.

“Uh-oh, looks like they did it again,” she said, pointing to the guy who hates it when they put corn in the chili. Because he was sitting in his usual place by himself, disgustedly picking pieces of corn from his bowl of chili, and flicking them onto his lunch tray.

“That poor guy,” Perin said, with a sigh. “I feel so bad whenever I see him sitting alone like that. I know how that feels.”

There was a painful pause as we all recalled how Perin had sat by herself at the beginning of the school year because she was new. Until we adopted her, that is.

“I thought he got a girlfriend,” Tina said. “Didn't you say you saw him buying prom tickets last year, Mia?”

“Yes,” I replied, with a sigh. “But I was wrong. It turned out he was only asking the people who were selling the prom tickets if they knew where the closest F train station was.”

Which, incidentally, is what inspired my short story about him, NO MORE CORN!.

“It's so sad,” Tina said, gazing in the direction of the Guy Who Hates It When They Put Corn in the Chili. “It makes me think that what happens in Mia's short story about him could happen in real life.”

!!!!!

“Maybe we should ask him to sit with us,” I said. Because the last thing I need, on top of everything else, is the guilt of having caused some guy to commit suicide by my not being nicer to him.

“No, thank you,” Boris said. “I have enough problems digesting this disgusting food without having to do so in the company of a bonafide weirdo.”

“Hello,” Lilly said, under her breath. “Pot, this is kettle. You're black.”

“I heard that,” Boris said, looking pained.

“You were meant to,” Lilly sang.

Then Lilly pulled a bunch of flyers from her Hello Kitty Trapper Keeper. She'd clearly been down in the office, photocopying something. She started passing the photocopies around.

“Everybody give these out in your afternoon classes,” she said. “Hopefully by tomorrow we'll get enough submissions to run our first issue by the end of this week.”

I looked down at the bright pink flyer. It said,

HEY YOU!

Are you sick and tired of being told
what's hot and what's not by the so-called media?

Do you want to read stories written by your peers,
about issues that really matter to you, instead of the
stream of pap we are fed by teen magazines
and our parents' newspapers?

Then submit your original articles, poetry, short stories,
cartoons, manga, novellas, and photos
to Albert Einstein High School's First Ever
Literary Magazine

FAT LOUIE'S PINK BUTTHOLE!!!!

Fat Louie's Pink Butthole now accepting submissions
for Issue 1, Volume 1

Oh my God.

OH MY GOD.

“Before you go all reactionary about the name of our literary magazine, Mia,” Lilly began—I guess because she must have noticed my lips turning white—“May I just point out that it is extremely creative and that, if we stick with it, we will never have to worry about any other literary magazine in the world having the same name?”

“Because it's named after my cat's butt!” I shrieked.

“Yes,” Lilly said. “It is. Thanks to the movies based on your life, your cat is famous, Mia. Everyone knows who Fat Louie is. That is why our magazine is going to sell. Because when people realize it has something to do with the Princess of Genovia, they will snatch it right up. Because, for reasons that are beyond me, people are actually interested in you.”

“But the title isn't about ME!” I wailed. “It's about my cat! My cat's butt, to be exact!”

“Yes,” Lilly said. “I will admit it's a bit on the juvenile side. But that is why it will get people's attention. They won't be able to look away. I figure for the first cover, I'll take a picture of Fat Louie's butt, and then—”

She kept on talking, but I wasn't listening. I COULDN'T listen.

Why must I be surrounded by so many lunatics?

More “edginess” later.

Much love,

Meg

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