Tumblr demands proof that I am the real Maggie Stiefvater. I submit three pieces of identification.
First, this hideous early draft of my first published novel, Lament, handwritten in this notebook when I was 18. I am glad to say that this is not what the first page looks like anymore.
Second, a photograph of me in my Camaro on the track with my heart full of gasoline and my license plate full of hubris. This photo hangs on the wall behind my head.
Thirdly, I am very sick as I have been whining about constantly on Twitter and I have tissues stuffed up my nose and I have just taken a photo of myself pointing at the second piece of evidence on my wall.
Fourthly, this is the sexiest bit of internet I have ever done.
You would’ve gotten even more notes if you’d been raising a different finger.