On behalf of Anna Todd, myself, and the whole Wattpad community, I am so excited to tell you about next Tuesday’s publication of Imagines: Celebrity Encounters Starring You!
Basically, we took some of your favorite Wattpad writers (Anna, @kxinfinity, @doeneseya, @korahuddles, @katrocks247 and 28 more!) and had them write up celebrity imagines in which you the reader get to star alongside such celebrities as Kim Kardashian (preview: she’s a freedom fighter for selfies and needs your help!), Zac Efron (he loves that your camp is putting on a Highschool Musical play!), Michael Clifford (he takes you to prom!), and Matt Damon (he’s stalking you–don’t ask). We got some 1D, some 5SOS, some Kardashians, some singers and actors, and a whole lot more.
We’re really excited about this book. And not just because we printed it with a shiny mirrored cover that lets you appear on the cover as well. (Well, a reflection of you.)
You can follow the hashtag #ImaginesBook to learn more in social media, go to Wattpad.com/Imagines for more information, or check out and order the book below to experience it yourself!
And because Anna and I got a little goofy during the whole process, we decided to write imagines about each other and share them with you here. She’s a pro, and I mostly wrote mine as fast as I could in an email. But you be the judge–read them both and let us know in the comments how much better Anna’s is than mine. :\
Peace and Happy Reading,
You + Editor Adam + Ponies!
by Anna Todd
Imagine . . .
You’ve never wanted anything more than to be a writer. You feel as if your veins bleed black ink, and you’ve written the best manuscript known to man. You can’t even deal with how amazing your own writing is, and so you can’t possibly understand why you only have five reads on Wattpad—and three of those being you.
You have been waiting for today–the day you get to meet THE Adam Wilson, Senior Editor at Gallery Books. He’s like a big deal and you are so excited to breathe the same air as him. You’ve heard many a legend about this man, from his very public obsession with the Kardashians to his witty, yet reserved personality.
You check your phone again. He will be here, sitting in front of you at this small table in Starbucks in Manhattan in just two hours. You’ve been strategic about the day, hence your arriving five hours early. You wanted to make sure everything is ready: The bound copy of your manuscript, the Gambit T-shirt you wore because the little bit of information he reveals about himself on Twitter told you that he’s a fan. You even bought three X-Men comics and meticulously placed them hanging out of your bag just enough that he will see them.
One more hour. You spent the next hour practicing what you will say to Adam when he arrives. You move seats five more times in order to find the one that will make him the most comfortable when he arrives. He’s sort of tall, so you want him to be as comfortable as possible.
Two minutes late. It’s 2:02 and he’s not here. No sight of his luscious long hair, no blue eyes to find yours.
Three minutes late.
Just as you are googling Simon & Schuster’s phone number, here he comes.
Dressed in a navy blue button down shirt and jeans, he is everything you hoped he would be. His hair is in a bun, which is slightly disappointing because you were looking forward to seeing the medium-brown waves flow down his neck and cover his shoulders. But still.
He approaches you, saying your name with his hand raised to shake.
Oh no, this won’t do. You stand up and hug him, only pulling away when he groans. He will learn to love your hugs, you remind yourself.
“I guess we should get straight to business,” you say with a smile, batting your lashes at him.
He sits down, a puzzled look on his face, but you aren’t deterred.
“Cyclone Pony Hearts is an epic tale of what happens when tornados meet ponies and–”
“Wait, what?” Adam’s face twists, he wants to laugh but you get the feeling he knows better.
“My novel . . .” You sense his hesitation and realize he needs an explanation. “Don’t’ worry–it’s not a standalone. There are seven books!”
Adam studies you closely, and suddenly you’re a little pissed that he didn’t even acknowledge your Gambit shirt.
“You’re . . . not giving away your cat, are you?” he questions.
Yeah, maybe you put out an ad out for a free cat, a cute little kitten named Goose, but that’s besides the point.
“But my novel,” you say, to try and distract him.
So what if you tricked him into the meeting? You have done worse things. Miles Teller can account for that.
“I have to go.” Adam stands and you don’t know what to do.
You decide to learn from your mistakes and let him go.
He will see you again.
You’re sure of it.
You + Italy + Anna Todd + Life!
by Adam Wilson
Imagine . . .
You’re walking down the street in Italy, headphones on, humming to your favorite new band: Double Direction, the Australian group made up entirely of One Direction member’s heretofore unknown identical twins that had been shipped Down Under as wee babes in an effort to more perfectly let the future One Direction babies concentrate on their melodic crying in the hopes that they would someday be the massive worldwide band that they, indeed, are now becoming because of the “directionlessness” of fans during the 1D hiatus.
You heard Anna Todd mention that she loved Double Direction, though not as much as your favorite singers, because she couldn’t somehow help but feel their music trod disturbingly familiar ground.
Anyhow, best not to think too much about that.
You’re enjoying a pizza thing, or whatever passes for pizza in this land that supposedly originated pizza, though since you’ve arrived it seems nothing like the American pizza. It’s delicious pizza nonetheless, yes, and the change is welcome for a while, but still, it’s reminding you again of the DoubleD / 1D conundrum, which surely you need a particle physicist to explain at some point.
While you’re trying to think of the best way to become the BFF of a particle physicist, there suddenly appears such a wave of Italian paparazzi that makes you think a tidal wave or flood is pouring your way.
Dumbfounded, you look left and then right for a quaint little piazza to escape into, but everywhere around her were those tiny mopeds so prevalent in Italy and yet not at all in hipster Austin, where you had moved to, to be closer to Anna Todd.
Turning back in the direction of what could only be called a photographically advanced barbarian horde, you see the prey they are aiming toward, a lovely blonde woman who looks like a rowboat about to be tossed in the churning waves of an unstoppable tempest. Her face and lovely lashes only just make it to a squared up position before the tidal wave of humanity sweeps over her, taking pictures of her surprised reaction, throwing rather thick books at her, asking what band she is listening to—and “BY GOD IT BETTER BE HARRY,” you hear someone yell—and generally getting all up in her biz.
You pull out your phone to take a picture of this, or maybe a video, or maybe something when, looking down, you see that you left your Wattpad app open on the latest chapter of Anna Todd’s Nothing More. Frantically trying to swipe or tape or shake or button-push out of that to get to your camera, your account goes back a couple of screens and there you’re greeting with a disturbingly familiar face.
Your jaw drops open as you look down at your screen. Then you look up at the blond woman who is now grabbing the books being thrown at her, signing them as quickly as The Flash, and then smiling at each indecipherable Italian greeting. You look down at your phone. You look up at the woman.
It’s Anna Todd, you tell yourself.
On the phone? Yeah, of course it is because you’re on her page— you start to tell yourself.
No, no, smartie—in both places! your insides yell at you. Phone and quaint cobblestone Italian street!
“Ooooh,” you say out loud to yourself. Which, somehow—and if we’re being honest it feels like a violation of audio physics that this happens—but somehow the crowd of people before you hear this and stop their frenzy to look at you.
“Hey,” Anna says with a smile at you and points. “Be careful with those tiny mopeds. I totally almost crashed one last night. That’s why I’m walking.”
“Uh huh,” you say. And then, feeling brave, “Do you need some help there? You alright in that paps vortex?”
Anna looks at you like you’re the cutest little deer. Like you’re a deer in a Disney movie or something, so kind and considerate, like you’re animated with big eyes. But then she says, “No, I’m cool. These folks have shown me a really good time in Italy, and the fans have been super wonderful. Thank, though, that’s really nice of you to ask. You should come to the signing tonight!”
And with that, Anna pulled out a pink Sharpie, signed some more books, and walked down the street with the cluster of media folks in tow.
You don’t know whether it’s the chemical aroma of that pink Sharpie, or the last flashbulbs on some of the paps’ cameras, but suddenly your jetlag has cleared. You feel good for the rest of the day. You love Italy and its strange pizza! You love the mopeds and the amazing architecture! And you love the way that Anna Todd left her iPhone behind on the cobblestone streets—because now you know you’ll get to meet again.
(Rocketlauncher Kim image courtesy of the Daily Dot, which has a sample of the Kim K. story here.)