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Maybe that was a good place to start.
I was a linear writer. I started at the beginning and finished at the end, and while I took notes during the process of anything that came to mind, I didn’t write any scenes unless they were supposed to be there.
But now…
I took a deep breath and went back to the desk to fetch my laptop to take it back to the window seat and nestled back in amongst the cushions. After typing in my password on the login screen of my laptop, I opened a new document and started describing the setting outside of the window.
It wasn’t long, only four hundred words or so, but it was enough to set the scene. It was four hundred words I didn’t have twenty minutes ago, and words were words at this point. I wasn’t entirely sure where this description would go or if I’d even use what I’d just written, but it was better than nothing.
If setting was the key to unlocking this book, perhaps I needed to go out and explore. The village of Windermere was only a few minutes away, and there was a good chance I’d be able to pull together enough inspiration to keep unlocking this story that was being so stubborn.
I glanced back at Winston, happily sleeping on the armchair. There was a huge beam of sunlight glaring through the window right to that spot, and he stretched out before he rolled onto his back and showed his curly-furred belly.
Oh, to be a cat.
Three knocks sounded at the door, and I frowned, getting up so I could answer it. I pulled the door open and smiled.
Esme.
She smiled contritely. “I brought a chocolate cake.”
“Is that for me?”
“It most certainly is. I was rather heavy-handed with you yesterday, and I thought I might bring it by way of an apology.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I said, gratefully accepting the cake box from her. “I suppose you’d like this box returned.”
“I would. I tend to misplace them, and they’re rather expensive.”
I smiled. “I’ll let you know when I’m done with it.”
“Wonderful.”
Esme hovered for a moment, and I could tell that she wasn’t quite done.
“Was there something else?” I asked her, trying not to let my smile grow too wide.
“Yes, actually. You’re a smart one.” She opened her handbag and pulled out a cream-coloured envelope that she handed to me. “This is for you.”
Frowning, I set the cake box down on the side table and took the envelope from her.
Oh. This was a fancy envelope. You know,fancy-fancy. Thick paper that felt good when you rubbed your thumb over it kind of fancy.
I flipped it over. She hadn’t sealed the envelope flap, so I slipped my finger into the space and opened it, then pulled out the card that was inside and scanned it.
“Esme, is this a formal invitation to your book club?”
She pursed her lips. “Yes, it is. I’m aware that I strong-armed you into coming rather than asking you, so please consider this my request for you to join us next week. It’s only the four of us at the big house, and I know the ladies would love to meet you.”
I looked down at the card with a smile. “It would be my pleasure, Esme.”
“You’re a sweet girl.” She brightened. “The time is the last half an hour. We have to discuss our last book—a thriller that wasn’t all that thrilling, if I’m perfectly honest—then I’ll pull you out and be the queen of the book club once again.”
I dipped my chin. “Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”
“Just a pen to sign my books in front of them. I do like to brag.”
No kidding.
