f.a.q.

on Perfect

What inspired you to write Perfect? Growing up as a competitive gymnast, I experienced early on the pressure to be thin and struggled for years with body image and eating issues. As a psychology major studying eating disorders in college, and as a middle-school teacher and camp counselor, I became increasingly aware of—not to mention appalled by—the prevalence of warped body image and eating disorders among young girls. I wanted to write a book that dealt with those issues in a non-didactic, non-threatening way. While I never set out to write a “story with a message” per se, I did hope that Perfect would jump-start a dialogue among mothers and daughters, educators, and counselors about body image and eating disorders so that girls who were dealing with those problems wouldn’t feel alone.

How did you choose the title Perfect? Originally the book was called Halo Effect*—after the phenomenon I learned about in my very first psychology class. When my editor asked me to change the title I was apprehensive; I didn’t think I could find anything that would work as well. Perfect occurred to me a few days later. I liked it for its simplicity, and for its irony.

*Learn more about the halo effect

Bulimia is central to the Perfect storyline. Have you had personal experience with eating disorders? Yup. As a gymnast I was introduced to the concept of dieting and weight control at an early age. Our coach labeled the two springboards in our gym with tape and magic marker: Under 100 Pounds and Over 100 Pounds. There was no question about which board was acceptable and which wasn’t. I went on my first diet at the age of eleven—and I wasn’t even overweight. I never developed a full-blown eating disorder, but I knew girls who did, and I certainly dabbled in some of the behavior: laxatives (once was enough), binge eating, and vomiting.

Are you concerned that your detailed descriptions of bingeing and purging behavior might serve as a how-to guide for young readers? On the contrary, I think that the more informed kids are the less likely they will be to indulge in self-destructive behavior. I’m a huge proponent of the “knowledge is power” philosophy. When I was in middle school I read every eating disorder book I could get my hands on. Paper Doll; The Best Little Girl in the World; Second Star From the Right. I’m convinced that reading those stories kept me from becoming one of those girls. They scared the pants off me.

Of course, not everyone believes what I believe. Some parents and educators have taken issue with Perfect, fearful that reading this book will turn young girls into raging bulimics (Perfect as how-to-guide. “Look, kids, isn’t bulimia awesome?”) But if they would actually read the book, they would see that this message is simply not present anywhere in the text; in fact bulimia is portrayed as something downright terrifying.

Want to read more? Check out this article about Perfect, Attention Censors, by Colleen Mondor.

Why did you decide to write a book about eating disorders for such a young audience? Have you entered a middle-school lunchroom lately? You should hear how some of these girls talk about their bodies. As a former fifth- and sixth-grade teacher and camp counselor I can tell you, it’s heartbreaking. Ten year olds thinking they’re fat. Camp mothers asking me to police their daughters over the summer, to make sure they don’t gain weight. People think the problem must be getting better because we talk about it so much, but the truth is it’s getting worse. And the target vulnerable are only getting younger.

At the end of the book Ashley gives Isabelle a Christmas present, but the reader never finds out what the present is. Why not? I toyed with the idea of a couple of different presents—a friendship locket (too hokey), a four-leaf clover (wayyy too hokey)—but none of them rang true for the characters. Ultimately I decided to leave Isabelle feeling conflicted about the potential contents of the box. That felt right to me. There’s a part of Isabelle that still wants to hold on to an idealized version of Ashley—that doesn’t want to be disappointed.

What do you hope your readers will get out of reading Perfect? At the very least I hope they will come away from the book saying, “Those characters rang true. I felt for them.” At most, I hope the book will be tonic for girls who are struggling with body image issues or eating disorders, or grief over the death of someone close. I want them to know they’re not alone, and there are ways to get help.