Although I always like to claim that my books aren’t based on my own life (at least, not mostly), it’s almost impossible not to replicate bits of one’s own experience. As I’ve started working on the fifth book in the Pink Carnation series, I’ve realized that one extremely important aspect of my life has woven its way into the fabric of my books. No, I’m not talking about all those handsome English noblemen constantly leaping from my bedroom window (since my apartment is on the fifth floor, they’d be in big trouble). I’m talking about best friends.

Did anyone else ever notice that the heroines of many romance novels back in the 80’s seemed to be singularly adrift in the world? Not only were their parents always dead, killed off in convenient carriage crashes or immolated in suspicious fires, but they never seemed to have friends. Oh, they had devoted serving maids, either of the young and perky variety or the old and crusty variety, but never a proper friend of their own age. Once I started looking, I realized that Disney heroines seemed to suffer from the exact same problem. Talking mice are all very well and good, but you can’t lean on their shoulder when you need a hug. If you did, you might squish them.

Looking back on my own books, female friendships are an integral part of the fabric of the story. Take away the best friend, and none of the plot makes sense. Amy, the heroine of my first book, wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without the support, affection, and plain old common sense of her cousin Jane. And Henrietta, the heroine of my second book, would be a very different person without her two best friends, Penelope and Charlotte.

Coincidence? I think not. It all comes down to one very special person, whom I’ve known since ruffled ankle socks and crayons, through Middle School dances and A.P. anxiety, college dating dramas and (good heavens, when did we become grown ups?) her wedding.

By a happy coincidence (no, really! I’m not making it up!), today is my very best friend’s birthday. There just aren’t enough balloons in the world to celebrate the occasion properly, or enough ways to say just how blessed I’ve been to have such a friend. And I’m not just saying this because I forgot to send a present in time. Really. (Just to make it worse, click here to see the amazing present Nancy made me for my birthday). We’ve been friends for a quarter of a century, swapping romance novels and confidences, exchanging CDs and advice, sharing light movies and weighty events. Like the plots of my books, if you tried to take my best friend out of the picture, the whole story would cease to make sense.

There are a million memories I could share, but then this post would just go on forever, and I’d never get around to actually getting that birthday present to the post office. So, without further ado, I’d like to light a metaphorical birthday candle and send a great big birthday wish to the best of all possible best friends. Many happy returns of the day!