Introduction time!

It’s kind of strange to be doing a formal introduction after three years of blogging. Anyone who’s read the poptext archives probably knows more than they should me from an emotional perspective, (because the pretence of anonymity is a powerful thing) but now I’m putting a name to this, I figure it’s time to fill in the blanks. I’ll be the first to admit that the blurb on the About Abby page is somewhat obnoxious (and the authors amongst you will know that panic that descends when your agent wants a bio), so I thought I’d do a translation to round it out…

Abby McDonald was born and raised in Sussex, England

In a hippie village utopia, to be precise. We have rolling hills, organic farms, a co-operative health food store and, once a year, a barn dance. No, really. It’s ridiculously charming, but impossible to take for more than a month at a time without a) becoming addicted to daytime TV, b) getting pregnant to pass the time, or c) developing a low-level dope habit.

and studied Politics and Philosophy at Oxford University. She began writing at college, becoming music editor of the student newspaper and completing her first manuscript at nineteen.

Getting involved with music writing probably got me through college. In addition to meeting a great group of people (who weren’t committed to saving the world/running five different student organizations/becoming an investment banker), I discovered that it was possible to interview your favorite bands. As a career! In my first year, I also decided to write the Uber Chick-Lit novel. That was actually its title on my computer for a really long time. Anyway, what ensued was the kind of traumatic saga that most writers go through when they’re starting out. Mine spanned two years, three agents and more tears than I can count, and in the end, it never even made it out to editors. Again, common in this business.

(FYI, the YA that’s being published next year (working title, Sophomore Switch) is actually Book Four, but I’ll tell that story another time!)

After deciding that the ‘real world’ of nine-to-five would interrupt her busy schedule of napping and watching teen DVD box-sets, Abigail graduated to writing full-time.

Also known as ‘moving back home for a year after graduation and trying to avoid options a, b and c listed above’. I was a receptionist, data clerk, editorial assistant and sub-editor in my sleepy village while my friends swanned around London being all urban and interesting. So I wrote more books.

Since then, her work has appeared in the NME, CosmoGirl and Plan B magazines.

There was a period when I figured working in teen magazines was the career for me. After all, it would put to use the vast array of celebrity gossip and pop culture trivia I have floating around in my head, and then I would be totally vindicated. “See, mom—watching that Laguna Beach marathon was RESEARCH!” But a few weeks of interning kind of put an end to that dream. It’s one thing to entertain a passing interest in Gossip Girl or who Jessica Simpson is dating, it’s quite another to have that be the sum total of your entire working day.

Her debut novel will be published by Candlewick Press (US) and Walker Books (UK) in Spring 2009.

I still sort of squeee with delight every time I see this sentence.

She just moved to Montreal, where she is eating her way around the city. And adjusting to writing about herself in the third person.

I spent a lot of last year in Boston, but then immigration got annoyed with me coming in and spending all my money on books and baked goods, so I’m trying life further north. I’ve been here, oh, nearly three weeks, and so far it is awesome. They’re big on smoked meats and bacon here, so how could it not be? I’m still finding my feet (the snow has melted, helpfully) so if you’re here, or know someone great who is, get in touch!

What else? I just turned 23; I watch more downloaded TV than you possibly imagine; I miss my cat; I can’t whistle; I was a cheerleader, for a very brief time (M and A and G and D! What is our philosophy? Victory!); my bangs need a trim; thanks to pesky migraines, I can’t have caffeine, chocolate, cheese or (much) alcohol.

And that is all.