Supermodel-turned-actress-turned-talk show host Tyra Banks has added another title to her already crowded résumé: author.
"Modelland," the first novel by Banks, creator and host of the runaway runway reality competition show, "America's Next Top Model," puts her fashion experience down in pages in this fictionalized book about four girls accepted to an exclusive modeling school.
The book, whose cover Banks revealed on "Good Morning America" in July, follows the adventures of aspiring model 15-year-old Tookie De La Crème, who receives one of the unexpected invitations to Modelland – "an exclusive, mysterious place on top of a mountain."
"It's my novel called Modelland (pronounced "Model Land") that takes you to a fantastical place you've never seen, or heard about, or read about before ...," Banks, 37, wrote on her website, Tyra.com about the novel. "Where dreams come true and life can change in the blink of a smoky eye."
Read an excerpt from "Modelland" below, then check out some other books in the "GMA" library.
Thousands of girls stampeded to the square all at once. Heels clacked. Dresses swished. Hairdos wobbled. The T-DOD theme song boomed a pulsating beat.
There was one rule and one rule only: a girl must be walking in order to be chosen.
Other than that, there was no prearranged runway on which the girls could walk, so everyone created invisible ones wherever they were standing. Violence was not encouraged nor was it condemned, and some girls' parents insisted on adding martial arts training to their walking lessons in preparation for the big day. T-DOD Square was an every- man- for- himself—or, more precisely, an every-girl-for-herself—event.
Scores of girls marched down their own stretches of the square, paused, posed for the cameras (real and imaginary), and then turned around. Trains of walking girls intersected with others.
One area behind Tookie was so crammed with street vendors, it bottlenecked into a slow, shuffling line. Some walkers had only enough space to take a few steps before they had to stop and turn. Tookie's heart went out to a young girl in a ruffled pink dress who seemed way below the unofficial thirteen-year-old age requirement. She marched in place as if she were on a drill team.
A girl stepped on the train of a walker a few feet from Tookie and tore the fabric right off the dress. Both girls fell forward into a heap. The walkers behind them stepped over their bodies and continued.
Crash. The De La Crème white and cream blow-up tent went down as two brawling girls entered it.
A girl who looked as if she had never walked in heels before stumbled, breaking the tips of both stilettos. Two girls got into a fight at the end of their makeshift catwalk, rolling to the ground.
"Kenya, use the Gyaku Zuki move!" her mother screamed. "Reverse-punch the hairy hag! But watch your hair, sweetie!"
Tookie wheeled around. The hairy hag was Abigail Goode, sideburns in full glory, faint mustache above her upper lip, unshaven leg hair coating her calves, underarm hair swaying in the wind, and a DOWN WITH RAZORS! picket sign still in her hands.
The girl she was fighting with tried out a karate move on her, but Abigail expertly evaded her blow. Tookie's jealousy meter skyrocketed. Even Abigail was competing?
She looked around some more. Actually, not only were eligible girls walking, but lots of other people were too.
An elderly man on a power scooter shot a gap-toothed smile to the crowd as he steered his vehicle with his hands on his hips.