Page 58 of Saved by my Baby Daddy Spy
But in my mind, the first sentence is the most important. It’s what gets me ready to dive into the rest of the story. I get excited when I see the first words come to life on the page.
Right now, I can’t make that story come to life. The first sentence isn’t coming to me at all.
Sometimes, I wonder if making the decision to switch genres is the right one. Even though Audrey is excited about the change and is encouraging me to go with the flow of my creativity,
She thinks that my readers will love the switch-up, but I’m not so certain about it. I’ve been writing spy novels for so long that I don’t know how to start any other kind of novel.
Puffy clouds drift across the sky as I run my hands down my face. I take a deep breath, drumming my fingers on the edge of my laptop. I have to think of a way to start the story.
And the author jumped off the bridge and took her horrible decision to change genres with her.
I smile to myself, but the fear that this book is going to be terrible still doesn’t go away. I don’t think that I’m going to be able to write a love story.
This week with Holden in a cabin has been wonderful, but it hasn’t had the pressures of the outside world surrounding it. We’ve been able to focus on Kerri and each other. I don’t know if that is going to continue when we fly back home tomorrow.
The glass door behind me slides open and Holden steps out with a cup of coffee in his hand. He takes the seat beside me, his sweatpants riding low on his hips. I glance over at his bare chest, admiring the way the sun hits his muscles. The same muscles I traced with my tongue last night.
“I can see that look in your eyes,” he says as he sets the baby monitor on the table between us. “And I can tell you right now that Kerri will wake up soon, so you better keep that look to yourself.”
I scoff and reach for my mug. “I can control myself, thank you very much. Besides, I have to figure out a way to start this novel. I thought that sitting out here and watching the sunrise would inspire something, but I’ve still got nothing.”
He hums and shifts to lean over and look at the screen. “What’s the book about?”
“A woman and the man who got away. High school sweethearts who thought they were going to be together, but then he decided it was too much for him. He moved overseas, saying that he needed to find himself. Eventually, he comes back and he tries to win her back.”
Holden nods, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Why not start with happily ever after?”
I look at him like he has three heads. “That’s what comes at the end of the novel.”
Holden smiles and shrugs. “They thought that they had their happily ever after until he went and blew it up. Maybe start there.”
I stare at him for a moment before considering his sentence over and over again. It’s the kind of sentence that draws readers in and makes them invested in a story.
“Actually, what you said was perfect,” I say as I set my coffee to the side. “Do you mind if I use that?”
Holden waves a hand. “Go ahead and use it.”
My fingers fly across the keyboard, the first few paragraphs coming to me easily. Every now and then I stop typing to glance over at him and see him smiling at me.
If only every day could be like this one.
When I reach another mental block, I shut the laptop and set it to the side. As I finish off my coffee, I consider what this book could do for my career.
It’s going to be so different from anything else that I’ve ever written. It isn’t going to be a spy novel in which the main woman might have a love interest in addition to her other exciting adventures. My latest novel is going to focus closely on the relationship between two people and how it changes over time.
I have to be able to capture the good and the bad of humanity without having an external force to blame the worst facets of my characters on.
“You look like you’re freaking out again.” Holden reaches over and takes my empty mug, setting it on the table before linking his fingers with mine. He brings my hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently. “What are you thinking about now?”
“I’m thinking about all the time I’m going to put into writing this novel only to have it fail. And then I’ll have disappointed readers. I don’t want to break their trust by putting out something that they’re not going to like, but it feels like that is what’s going to happen now. I really want this to be the best book I’ve ever written, but I’m in so far over my head.”
For what seems like an eternity, Holden says nothing. He squeezes my hand, holding it tighter. I smile, but my heart is racing.
What if he thinks that switching genres is a bad idea?
I take a deep breath, trying to calm all the emotions flowing through me. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff with my career. Even though there is excitement, there is also the feeling that I’m about to fall to my death.
“I think you’re going to write an amazing book,” Holden says before kissing the back of my hand again. “I read all your novels while I was in witness protection.”
