a work of art

miss me?

Hey all... Guess what? I couldn't stop writing.

I've had dozens of book ideas, but I kept coming back to this one, and I really wanted to look at the story through a different lens.

Some of you may hate this perspective, but for those of you that loved Claire (as I really, really do), I started writing from her side of things and wanted to share it with you.

So, here's a little tease of the first chapter, which I'll publish in a new book: a work of fiction.

Hope you enjoy it! Make sure you comment and let me know what you think! I can take it. ;)

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The weather in Massachusetts was always unpredictable, and even though many hate it, it was one of the things I loved most about this state. It was raining now, despite the forecast not having called for it.

With Joanie at my feet, I had been trying to figure out a song. But now I stared out the window to my left, as water droplets formed and slid down the glass. The basement walkout, where I kept so many of my instruments, was dark and gloomy. I should've turned on a lamp, but didn't want to disturb the fluffy dog.

Without looking away from the window, I pressed a key, C, and let the note hang in the air. Nothing. Not a drop of inspiration.

My phone buzzed, the FaceTime ring jolting me out of oblivion. I pulled my gaze from the window, picked up my phone, and clapped a hand over my mouth.

Billie Eilish was calling me.

I ran a frantic hand over my face, through my hair. I had no hope to fix my appearance, not if I wanted to answer the call; I didn't have enough time. And I... really wanted to answer the call. Giving up, I drew a shaky breath and pressed the green button.

"Billie," I said breathlessly, as her face appeared on my phone screen. "Hey!"

"Hey girl," Billie smiled easily, warmly. "How you been?"

"Oh, you know," I shrugged, grinning like an idiot. I looked like an idiot, too. My video showed my tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and wrinkled t-shirt. "Just... writing. Trying to."

She shook her hair, rolling her eyes. She looked off to her left for a moment, staring at... what? A spot in the distance? A boyfriend? I stared intently at her beautiful face as she ran her hand through her mop of black hair.

"I know how that goes," she said, slowly turning back to look at me. "I haven't been able to write in a while."

"You, too, huh?" I murmured.

I'd been trying for months, but my heart wasn't in it. I'd had such clear parameters for my last two albums. Such intense inspiration. Now everything felt trite and silly, childish or overdone. I felt like I'd somehow outgrown songwriting, moved on from it somehow. Maybe I had. Maybe I just needed to tour.

Billie nodded, and her wide smile returned. "I'm glad to talk to you, though. Been a while."

I could feel my cheeks heat, and tried desperately to hide them with a casual hand. "Yeah, for sure. Same."

"Think you could meet up soon?"

The heat in my face increased, and my efforts to conceal it were pointless. "Um, like while you're touring?"

"Yeah," she said, leaning her adorable chin on her hand. "I'll be in New York, soon. And even Boston."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, somewhat casually, but heard my voice squeak slightly. Two tour dates? And she wanted to spend time, with me? "I have a friend in New York I was gonna meet... and the Boston one I could totally do."