This is what I did when I was finishing primary school – instead of going outside like a normal kid and playing, or watching TV (wait, I did plenty of that, too), I sat down at the computer and typed. Originally the book was much longer – over 80,000 words – and included diaries from Helen, Orla and Emma as well, but needed to be cut down to about 50,000 words for publication. I think that was the right decision (the alternative would have been to pare down each diary individually). Like all books there’s some fact mixed in with the fiction – trips away were part of sixth class at my school, and my principal did walk in during a sex-ed talk while there were ‘dirty pictures’ up on the blackboard, but the girls’ reactions to these events and experiences are completely made-up – because that’s much more fun to write.

Dear Diary… was the first book I ever published, which is a very weird thing to happen before your fourteenth birthday. One thing everyone kept asking me: “is that you on the cover?” (No.) Another strange thing happened when I went to one school to talk to a class about writing the book, which many of them had read, and they kept asking me questions as though it were a memoir, as though I were the characters (you’d think the fact that there are five narrators, plus the different names, plus the fact that it’s a fiction title, would have given it away). It was quite, quite bizarre and something I’ve never come across again. Now I’d probably have the confidence to turn to a teacher and go, ‘Seriously? Why are you not stepping in here?’

It’s been over ten years since I wrote this book. That’s even more weird. It’s almost obligatory to look back at your first published book and cringe, a lot, but mostly I am grateful I had the good sense to write about characters my own age, and in diary format: at least authenticity-wise, it holds up (I hope). Also (I am not embarrassed to admit this now), yes, Aisling’s Celine Dion obsession? Totally autobiographical. There we go. The truth sets us free!