As I write this, I'm counting down the hours with a nervous tummy for the release of Wicked Restless - the second book in the Harper Boys novels. I'm nervous because I always am on release eve. Heck, I'm nervous until the book has been out for weeks, and I find something new to be nervous about. These books are little pieces of me, and I want them to find readers' hearts so very badly. I know I'm not alone in wanting that - it's something I share with many author friends of mine. We talk often about how we hope there are more lovers than haters, but in the end, we wouldn't have written it any differently.

And that's the case with Andrew Harper's story for me.

I wrote Wild Reckless, Owen's story, without any idea that there would be a second book. Owen's story has its own beginning, middle and end. But after it was released, and the threads of his story--the things that happened in his life to make him the way he was--began to touch readers, I realized those same threads were what made his younger brother Andrew so alive in the story. It only took one email from a reader asking for Andrew's story to clinch it for me. There were too many things that happened in Wild that had to leave a mark on Andrew, and then I started thinking about all of the things yet to come in his young life.

And then I tested him.

As I sent out the advance copies of Wicked to a few reviewers, one who I have come to know and value so very deeply sent me a note--"this story has that Outsiders feel," she said. I read that statement over and over. It hit me--right in the chest.

Yes. Yes!

There are books that I have read that are definitely influences in my writing style. I think I will always be chasing Sittenfeld and Fitzgerald. I like to dabble in tragedy and the bleak side of life. But I also like to find my way out. I like to see heroes and heroines overcome adversity.

And thanks to SE Hinton, I think I'm always chasing Ponyboy, too. If you haven't read The Outsiders, then one: how did you get through eighth grade without having to? And two: you should. Everyone really should. There's a reason it's on the academic must-read roster--it's important. Whereas a lot of my classmates when I was a young, awkward, 13-year-old rolled their eyes and despised having to write the essay on the greasers and the socs, I swam in it.

For me, The Outsiders wasn't a story about class. It wasn't about rebelling or sex or the angst of wanting a girl outside of your circle. Well, no...it was. But that wasn't what hit home, what resonated to the point that I cranked out six pages of essay in an hour-long class (note: that is a lot of scribbling for an eighth grader who probably also had half of her brain focused on the cute boy two rows over and one desk up). It was a story about family. I wrote about loyalty, disappointment, longing and what happens when young people have to step into the holes left behind when someone dies.

So how do these rambling thoughts come together? Well, as I mentioned--I get stupid sick to my stomach on release night because I want my baby to be loved. I close my eyes and throw pennies and blow lashes into the wind hoping. But for once, this, my ninth book, I feel just a little less nervous. Because of Ponyboy, and the fact that my story made someone think of him, just a little. I'm smiling as I type those words. I'm smiling because as much as I put Andrew Harper through in Wicked, I'm glad I did. I wouldn't change a thing. And that Outsiders feel--well damn, that one word review alone is good enough for me.

I hope you all enjoy.