Your deadline is looming.”
“Given what you just told me, looming is an understatement. I may need to become a hermit to finish on time.”
“Well then, I’ll let you get to it. Good luck at the taping next week, although you don’t need it. I’m sure you’ll shine, as always.”
“Thanks, Nigel.”
She hung up the phone and put her hand on the computer mouse, then opened the file to her manuscript. Her speech could wait. Right now she had to get her novel back on track. She wasn’t sure how she’d lost her motivation to work on it, but she’d been trying to be patient. As she’d learned with her other books, the best way to write a good story was to let it unfold at its own pace. Forcing a plot didn’t work, so when one spoke to her, she did her best to listen. But for some reason this one was staying rolled up in the corner of her imagination, and its stubbornness was beginning to concern her.
She also suspected the block was partly because the story wasn’t exactly going in the direction she thought it would.
Or hoped it would.
She stared at the screen for a few minutes, then began to type.
Chapter Four
BRANDON E-MAILED CASSIDY again a couple of days later. As she clicked to open the message, she was surprised—and slightly embarrassed—to realize she was holding her breath.
Hi Cassidy, looks like next Wednesday is the only night that will work for me. Let me know if you’re free. I’ll be staying at the Standard in the Meatpacking District. I hope to see you.—Brandon
She sent a quick reply, letting him know that worked for her, then leaned back against her chair.
Oh my gosh, this is really happening!
She chewed on her fingernail and wondered what it said about her that she was more excited about having a drink with Brandon on Wednesday than she was about the corporate video shoot for Rio Media the following day. Either she wasn’t taking her career as seriously as she should be, or she was seriously starved for male company.
Or both.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question either way.
Besides, she didn’t have time to ponder the inner workings of her mind—she had a book to write.
She shifted gears and got to work, but after an hour or so she hit a wall. As she always did when faced with a bout of writer’s block, or confidence block—which was often the same thing—she read a few fan e-mails to give herself a little boost. She clicked open the folder of reader messages and scrolled through a few from recent weeks.
Dear Cassidy,
Although I have a passion for reading books, it has taken a backseat to my busy life. I recently decided to dust off the old Kindle and Montague Terrace was just the thing to rekindle (no pun intended) my passion. I read it in a weekend, and you can only imagine my excitement when I found out that you had written a few other books. I love your real-life perspective and sense of humor about it all. Please continue to create. You have such a gift!
Several others were similar in spirit to what Cindy in Southern Ohio had to say. As usual, reading fan e-mails did the trick. With a smile on her face and a renewed sense of purpose, Cassidy got back to work.
After a late night at her desk, Cassidy wasn’t exactly bursting with energy the next morning, so she opted to chop a mile off her regular run through the park. The shorter route avoided the dreaded Harlem Hill, which tended to make her feel like an old lady even when she wasn’t a bit sluggish. And today she was already dragging enough. But she’d made a fair amount of progress on the novel the night before, so the lack of pep in her step was worth it.
After completing a four-mile loop at a leisurely pace, she stretched on a bench, then slowly walked over to a popular brunch spot called Good Enough to Eat on Columbus and Eighty-Fifth. She and her college friend Danielle tried to get together in some capacity every other weekend, although with Danielle’s hectic work and