People Glued To Booktok Novels & Stories

Jewel appeared uneasy with what she perceived as happiness coursing through her like a wild river, and if she could just eat the books, she would have. She had nearly a hundred books on her bed when she finished the last one. She threw the empty box to the floor and grabbed her phone from the bedside table. She snapped a photo of those eye-catching books with enticing covers, then took a selfie with them. She logged into her social media account and uploaded the photos to the group chat. She received a notification in less than three seconds. Hazel had responded to her message. [Hazel: Oh my goodness, Laine! You keep the books! That's fantastic! ]

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She started waiting patiently for his reply. The library smelled of old paper and flickering dust—more like a reliquary than a place of study. Light filtered through the tall windows in long, golden shafts that bent gently across the room’s quiet. She scrolled through a few reels on her phone and noticed Blake’s new TikTok had already hit 60K views in just two hours. She sighed and kept scrolling, then started reading the comments—strange ones, at least to Elowen: “omg marry me!!!!”

The same particular quality of room that held things that mattered that had been designed for ideas and had accumulated, over the months since the address, the particular reputation of a space where true things were said. It was full. Not only with people I knew with strangers. People who had found the Fund, who had followed the story in the press coverage, who had simply seen the book listed and been moved by the description to come. The particular mix that book events had when the book was about something real not the curated literary audience, but the broader, messier, more specific audience of people who needed to hear something and had come because the title of a book had told them it w

Mom and Elena rising together and applauding. Richard stood last. Slow. The coat unbuttoning. His clap heavy and deliberate. Something closer to acknowledgment. Seven people. Standing. In a basement bookstore in Portland. For a book about a bar and a boy and a sabotage and a hospital and a kitchen floor and a family that broke and rebuilt and held. The crowd drifted toward the signing table. I stepped off the podium. A woman stopped me – tired eyes, worn jacket, a fresh copy clutched in white-knuckled hands.

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He whispered, planting a quick kiss on my lips as I slowly shook my head. “I'll take you to the room.” He offered, walking me out. Shit! What the hell did Kira do? ……. Ready for a visual treat? I'm thrilled to share my creative process with you on TikTok. Check my handle, ‘Books_haven’ Join me for book-related fun, character insights, and behind-the-scenes peeks into my writing world.

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