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)
“Can we even call them channels anymore? Is that outdated? What are they now, apps? Services?”
“Don’t get me started on how much I miss DIRECTV—it’ll age me,” Nora says. “Either way, the Lifetime and Hallmark storylines are some of my favorites. I could watch a cheerleader get murdered by a jealous mother a million times, and it still wouldn’t get old.”
I smile, but still feel the familiar tug of doubt. “You know what I really think it is? The primary reason I’m struggling with my writing?”
“Do tell,” Nora says.
“I want the story to feel real when I’m writing it. But I’m not sure anything can feel real if I haven’t lived it. Maybe I need to switch to fantasy and give romantic suspense a break. Either that, or I should take a break and go live a little. Do some dangerous, suspenseful shit. Get more life experiences under my belt.”
“The feeling people get while reading is what matters,” Nora insists, her tone more serious now. “Real doesn’t always mean it’s something you’ve lived. It just has to make people feel like it’s possible. That’s what you do, Petra. You make people believe in the impossible.”
I nod, letting her words sink in, even though I’m not quite convinced. But that’s the thing about Nora—she always believes in me, even when I don’t believe in myself. And maybe that’s enough to keep me going for another day.
“What do you know about realistic versus unrealistic? You’ve never dated an ex-con either,” I tease.
Nora laughs. “That’s what you think.”
I smile, but inside I’m battling the usual frustration. I wish I could believe the numerous five-star reviews over the negative ones. The praise is right there, outnumbering the criticisms, but sadly, I seem to focus on the negative way more than Nora does. It’s as if the negative comments hold more truth, like they’re somehow more honest or insightful, even though logically, I know that’s not true. Nora has always been better at brushing off the criticism, at trusting her instincts and her readers. Me, on the other hand, I tend to let the negative voices live rent-free in my head. But also, thanks to the notoriety the film brought to my career, I receive a lot more online scrutiny, so there is a difference. I used to have the same attitude as Nora.
“Maybe you should have an affair so you can really nail the emotions of your characters in this book,” Nora says teasingly. “Find a married man who reminds you of Cam and sleep with him.”
I laugh, but there’s a part of me that cringes a little at how freely she just said that in front of who knows how many readers watching us live. My heart flinches, a familiar tremor of fear in relation to how one casual comment could be misinterpreted, taken out of context and used against us for clickbait. I can see it now—the headlines tomorrow will say something like Petra Rose Wants to Fuck a Married Man!
Nora never seems to filter herself, and it’s one of the reasons I love her, but it also keeps me on my toes, especially now. “Where am I going to find a hot cop while I’m secluded in the middle of nowhere?”
“He’s a cop? Wow, spoiler alert.” Nora grins like she’s got the perfect solution. “Maybe you should go somewhere a little less secluded. Start writing at Starbucks. Cops love coffee.”
“Maybe you should go to sleep,” I suggest. “It’s late in New York.”
“There are two hundred people firing off questions at us. Let’s answer a few first,” she says, glancing at the numbers ticking up on the live feed. Her fingers scroll through the flood of comments and questions popping up on her screen. I fix my gaze on her face, avoiding even looking at the number of viewers. I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable harsh word, the cutting remark that will prove my fears right. But Nora’s expression remains bright, unbothered. She’s a pro at this, even if it’s just our private group. She’s shielding me, I realize, just like she promised.
Her eyes light up when she sees one that grabs her attention. “Here’s a good one,” she says, leaning forward toward the camera. “This person asks, ‘Do you really believe a writer needs to personally experience a situation before they’re able to capture how a character would truly respond? Isn’t that what imagination is all about?’”
Nora looks at the camera expectantly, raising her eyebrows at me as if to say “This one’s yours.” I lean forward and fold my arms over the table, taking a moment to really think about it. The question feels heavier than most of the ones we get during these live sessions. It’s a question that has been haunting me for the past year, echoing in the silence of my cabin. And this one is a hard one to address because it feels more like a jab than a question.