Bethany had been in the old downtown city library for hours, putting the finishing touches on her book. She loved the vibe of the old library, with its long labyrinthine hallways and dark wooden shelves full of old books. After being closed for decades, the library had recently been renovated and reopened to great fanfare, and it had become her regular haunt for the last few weeks.
She sat in her favorite study room, the one where the evening light streamed in through the tall, arched windows, bringing a warm, comforting feeling. The ambience helped her be more creative and relaxed, she had decided.
But right now Bethany wasn’t relaxed – at all. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as if possessed by some otherworldly force, determinedly tapping out words with an almost feverish intensity that bordered on obsession.
She had been pouring her heart and soul into her latest book for the past few weeks – “it’s a sci fi romance novel about two *star*-crossed lovers” she had joked to her friends, pun intended. She’d spent months crafting their adventures in outer space, and writing about the obstacles they faced in trying to be together.