Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I guess, in a way, it was like giving them insider access, a peek behind the curtain that they wouldn’t get anywhere else. They didn’t even mind the spoilers—they just wanted to be part of the process.
But then, a year ago, I stopped. Nora still goes live, but it’s just her now.
“No TikTok, I promise,” Nora says. “Just your Facebook group, and your group is private, so unless they’re in the group no one will see this.”
I can hear her hope building, though mine is laced with pure dread as I pull my laptop in front of me.
“Nora,” I say in a pleading voice. “I don’t think I can—”
“Just focus on me.” Nora’s voice cuts through my thoughts, calm and reassuring. “And on the camera. I’ll vet every single question, Petra. You’ll see how easy and familiar this is, and it’ll make you feel so much better. You know better than anyone that nothing motivates us more than the readers. And you’ve cut yourself off from them for way too long. This is going to help you write, I promise.”
I take a deep breath, try to smooth my hair a little, and open my group. I wait as Nora cues up the live video and invites me to join.
After getting a glimpse of my shadowy face on the screen, I jump up and flip on the kitchen light so my screen won’t be so dark. The harsh overhead light flickers for a second before illuminating the room, casting long shadows against the walls. It’s not flattering, but it’ll do.
Just as I sit back down, we’re live.
There’s no countdown, no time to second-guess my appearance or what I’m going to say.
When Nora and I first started doing these live sessions, it felt a little awkward—like we were performing for an invisible audience. The pressure to be entertaining, insightful, or even just coherent was always there, however mild it was. But now, after a year of only Nora being on-screen, and my long absence, that pressure feels like it’s going to make me combust.
“And . . . we’re live!” Nora says. “You guys, I was finally able to nail Petra down with her busy schedule! She’s here!”
I wave. And love that she makes it seem like I’ve been too busy for these, when all I’ve been is too terrified.
“Petra, I have missed you so much, you have no idea. How’s life? Anything interesting to share?”
We both laugh, knowing the questions were rhetorical. Everyone knows how my life has been. But I answer with “Oh, you know. Same ol’ same ol’.”
“I know you’re having a writer’s getaway,” Nora says. “The place looks new. Did they remodel the one you usually stay in?”
I look behind me and around me, holding the laptop to give readers a view of the place. “Nope. Had to pick one on the opposite side of the lake this time. But look at this place. It’s insane.”
“Wow. Should have invited me,” Nora says.
“You know we never work when we’re together.”
“Yeah. Your fault, though. You’re always turning on some addictive murder series, and then we get caught up in watching every episode, and before you know it, our days are up and vacation is over.”
“Vacation,” I say with a laugh. “I wish. I can’t remember the last time I took a vacation.”
“Oh, don’t sound spoiled,” Nora says. “You’re in a sleek rental that isn’t your home. I don’t care if you’re working or not—at least you aren’t somewhere worse. Like here, in my apartment, having to listen to my neighbor fight with her ex over the phone every hour. Speaking of struggle, how is the writing going?”
I shrug, feeling the burden of my lack of progress settle in again. “I haven’t even been here for a whole day yet, but I can just feel my stagnation on the horizon. Eighteen months and I barely have twenty pages.”
Her brow furrows, and she tilts her head, her voice dropping into a more serious tone. “You need to talk through it?”
“I was about to go to bed when you called,” I admit. “Already shut off my brain for the night.”
Nora groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I was hoping for a chapter or two.”
I smile, despite myself. “You and me both.”
Nora waves off my concerns with a dismissive hand. “You’re way too hard on yourself.”
I sigh, the familiar self-criticism rising to the surface. “I’m my own worst critic. Or at least I used to be.”
She rolls her eyes at me, something she’s done a hundred times when I get like this. “Did you at least decide on character names yet?”
“I did get that far.” I shift in my chair, feeling a little proud of the progress, as small as it is. “Cameron is the main love interest of the heroine. He goes by Cam. The heroine will be Reya.”