“Cam and Reya,” she says. “I like those. Is it still a love triangle?”
“So far. I don’t know. I might change it.”
“No, no, no,” she says, leaning forward toward the camera. “You promised me a love triangle. You’ve never written a love triangle.”
“It’s hard to write something you’ve never experienced.”
“Bullshit,” she says. “Your last book was about a woman who fell in love with her dog’s veterinarian and you don’t even have a dog.”
“Exactly,” I say. “And several reviewers said it was unrealistic.”
Candice shakes her head. “First of all, stop reading your negative reviews. Second...every negative review calls the book unrealistic. It’s a go-to term for negative reviews. I personally thought it was very realistic.”
“You don’t have a dog, either,” I point out.
Candice laughs. “Touché.”
I wish I believed the numerous five-star reviews over the negative ones, but sadly, I seem to focus on the negative way more than Candice does.
“Maybe you should have an affair so you can really nail the emotions of your characters in this book,” Candice says teasingly. “Find a married man who reminds you of Hot Cop Cam and sleep with him.”
I laugh, but I also cringe a little that she just said that in front of no telling how many readers. “Where am I going to find a hot cop while I’m secluded in the middle of nowhere?”
Candice grins. “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,” she says. “I’ll sleep after we answer a few.” She scrolls through the questions popping up on our screens. Her eyes light up when she sees one that grabs her attention. “Here’s a good one,” she says. “This person says, ‘Do you believe a writer needs to personally experience a situation before they’re able to capture how a character would truly respond?’”
Candice looks at the camera expectantly, indicating she wants me to respond to this one. I lean back in my seat and fold my arms over my chest while I think about the question.
“I would hope not,” I say with a sigh. “But as the saying goes, ‘Write what you know.’ I do question whether I could describe emotions and reactions better if I had lived through the things I was writing about. I think every writer questions that part of themselves.”
“I don’t question it,” Candice says. She reads off another question. “If given the chance, would either of you willingly experience the things your characters are going through in the books you’re currently writing?”
Candice immediately nods. “Hell yes. I just finished a book about a Hockey player falling in love with his agent. Sign me up. What about you, Megan?”
I nod, too. A sordid affair with a hot guy doesn’t sound so bad. “Of course. I’d do anything to be a better writer.”
Candice moves on to the next question. We answer four or five more, but she cuts them short. I think she can tell I’m not into this right now. We normally have easy-flowing banter back and forth, but tonight she keeps repeating stuff for me because my attention span isn’t cooperating.
I don’t know if I’m exhausted or just not in the mood for this right now, but I can’t focus on the live video. I keep thinking about our conversation and wondering what it would be like to actually experience the things I’m writing about.
In my last book, my main character’s dog of twelve years died. I tried my best to put myself in the shoes of the character—to describe the emotions a person would feel in that situation—but I’m not a huge dog-lover. It was hard to empathize with a character being devastated over the loss of a pet. And since it was a romance novel, I skimmed over the grief over the pet and dove head-first into the character’s relationship with the vet she met.
I was reamed in the reviews by dog-lovers. Several of them said it was obvious I wasn’t a pet owner.
If I make this current book a love triangle, is the same thing going to happen? Are readers going to say it’s obvious I’ve never had an affair?
These thoughts are still at the forefront of my mind when Candice wraps up the video. I tell the readers goodnight, then her. I close my laptop and turn out the lights. I double-check the locks on the doors and head to