COL Crying Out Loud

Yes, I Cried in Starbucks. No, You Don’t Need to Call Anyone.

Some scenes just hit different.

I was at Starbucks, minding my own business, trying to finish a scene that had been quietly wrecking me for days. I thought I was fine. I thought I was just going to tweak a few lines, maybe fix some dialogue, then reward myself with a banana bread warm slice.

Instead, I ended up crying. In public. No warning.

And not the cute kind of crying either. I’m talking full eyes-glossy, throat-tight, trying-not-to-sniffle-too-loud crying. At some point, I vaguely noticed someone hovering. It was the barista. He looked... concerned.

“Ma'am” he said nicely, “do you want me to call someone?”

I didn’t even know what to say. I just shook my head, waved my hand over the laptop like *this is the problem*, and mumbled, “No, it’s fine. I’m just writing.”

He backed away slowly, with a pity look on his face.

But the truth is, the scene really got to me. It’s one of those turning points—the kind where a character does something small, but it means everything. And when I finally got the emotion right on the page, it cracked me open too.

So yeah. That’s how I cried into a white chocolate mocha and made a Starbucks employee question whether he should add “emotional support” to his job description.

Writing this book keeps surprising me. Not just the plot twists, but the parts that sneak in from somewhere else—grief, hope, the weird courage it takes to let characters say what we’re often too scared to say ourselves.

Anyway. I’m fine ! The barista is probably still telling the story.

And the scene?

Obviously it’s one of my favorites.