My memories of growing up with Curtis, the middle of my three older sisters, include her fondness for pinching me, her bad driving skills and her tendency to steal the remote control from me in the ninth inning of a baseball game so she could watch "ER." I may be the biggest and strongest of my siblings now, but Curtis is nine years older, so I was at her mercy for most of my childhood. I mention all of this not to publicly embarrass Curtis (though that would be an added benefit), but rather to show that when I think of her, the words "bestselling novelist" aren't the first ones that spring to mind.
After Random House published Curtis' debut novel 'Prep' last January, it spent nine weeks on The New York Times bestseller list and sold nearly 200,000 copies. She ended up traveling all over the country to give readings. Tomorrow night, she'll be at Princeton, giving a public reading at 7:30 p.m. in McCosh 10.
It used to be that when I visited Curtis, I'd find her sitting in her apartment, wearing sweatpants, snacking on animal crackers and reading Us Weekly. This past weekend, I visited my sister to see just how glitzy and glamorous her post-'Prep' life has become. At her apartment, I found her sitting around in sweatpants, snacking on animal crackers and reading Us Weekly. Though I was awestruck by my sister's celebrity aura, I was able to pull myself together and ask her a few questions.
PG: As you prepare to come speak on campus, do you feel residual insecurity about the fact that Princeton rejected your undergraduate application back in 1993?
Curtis: It did sting at first. But I got over it after I ghostwrote your application and "you" were accepted. Now that I ghostwrite this column as well, I feel like a really valued member of the Princeton community.
PG: Do you consider yourself preppy?
Curtis: Not especially — it's safe to say you'd wear the pink and green ribbon belt on the book's cover before I would. In fact, after Random House had some of those belts made to promote the book, if I'm not mistaken, you did wear one.
PG: So is 'Prep' a celebration of preppy culture or an indictment of it?
Curtis: Neither. It's a depiction of one girl's four years at a boarding school. I know that some boarding schools feel very protective of their image — I was almost tarred and feathered by angry Miss Porter's students last week — but what can you do? I love fiction because, ironically, it's the best place to explore the human experience in a truthful, jargon-free way.
PG: I'm Cross Sugarman, right?
Curtis: P.G., given that everyone thinks the book is totally autobiographical and that I'm the main character, if you're the guy the main character has a huge crush on — well, this could create some awkwardness at Thanksgiving, don't you think?
PG: Okay, forget Cross. I know Paramount Pictures has optioned the movie rights to "Prep." What are the chances I could be cast as an extra?

Curtis: Have your people call my people.
PG: By "my people" you mean Mommy, right? Speaking of which, when you told The New York Times that your family members were nothing but scum-sucking parasites, you didn't mean it, did you?
Curtis: I was misquoted. What I really said was "shit-eating bottom dwellers."
PG: Final question: Toni Morrison or Joyce Carol Oates?
Curtis: Yes. P.G. Sittenfeld is an English major from Cincinnati, Ohio. He can be reached at pg@princeton.edu.