I’m so, so excited to launch my debut novel, 30 First Dates: A Romantic Comedy, out into the world today! The book tells the story of Erin Crawford, a single, 28-year-old high school teacher who’s searching for her place in the world. A typical Saturday night with friends leads Erin to create a bucket list that ultimately changes her life … though she doesn’t see it coming.
Here’s a sneak peek at Erin’s story (including the list!) from Chapter 2: Quarter-Life Crisis:
Erin stood, reaching over to grab her journal from her dresser. It lay open to the page where she’d scrawled out her 30 by 30 list almost five months earlier.
“I’d better get cracking at this,” she said out loud. She’d be thirty in less than fifteen months, and so far she’d scratched only one item off the list—No. 18, Bike 20 miles nonstop. And that one, she admitted, wasn’t much of a reach for her.
She sighed and examined the full list. It was pretty ambitious. Should’ve made it when I was sober, she thought, smiling to herself. But then, where was the fun in that?
Erin’s 30 by 30:
- See Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower
- Learn to snow ski
- Run a marathon
- Take salsa lessons
- Hold a full conversation in French
- Read War and Peace
- Watch every Academy Award Best Picture winner
- Attend a protest
- Crash a wedding
- Throw a real cocktail party
- Journal every day
- See what it’s like to be blond
- Attend the opera
- Taste wines in Napa
- Invest in the stock market
- Join a nonprofit board
- Shoot a gun
- Bike 20 miles nonstop
- See U2 from the front row
- Walk the Brooklyn Bridge
- Call parents more
- Find Ben a woman
- Ride a motorcycle
- Give vegetarianism a try
- Stay out all night clubbing
- Pick a doctoral program
- Get a tattoo
- Start a blog
She chuckled a little at No. 11: Journal every day. She hadn’t picked up her journal since the day she’d written this list. In fact, she hardly ever picked it up. She’d started keeping a journal as a pre-teen, but then as now, she only wrote in it when she was upset. She’d often thought that if some unknown future child or grandchild or great-grandchild ever found it in an attic and read it after her demise, they’d think she was either terribly frivolous or terribly depressed, because all she’d ever chronicled was heartbreak. She shook her head and kept reading, giggling again when she reached No. 23. She’d been making fun of Ben when she’d written that one down, but secretly it was a real goal. He’d had his share of girlfriends, but none who were good enough for him.
She shook her head and skimmed the rest of her list, pausing at No. 30. Start a blog. Great plan. Just one little problem: she had nothing to blog about—except completing the items on her list, and that had been done before.
She lowered the journal onto her lap and sighed. What was I thinking? It’s not like I have a trust fund. She didn’t have the money to do half the things on her list. To complete every item she’d have to travel to both ends of the country and across the Atlantic.
“Not at all daunting, Erin,” she muttered aloud. “No, not at all. Piece of cake.”