Movies and TV and Books…Oh My!

I’m a movie-junkie, a lover of TV, and the kind of book addict that will swear off spending money on paperbacks until a spare twenty and a nearby bookstore make me fold quicker than a cheap hooker.

Part of why I love being a writer is unexplainable. Words can’t describe the way I felt when I met the Gallaghers on Shameless for the first time or when I was living out in the swamp with Kya in Where the Crawdads Sing. Nothing encapsulates the reason that I watch It’s a Beautiful Life every Christmas Eve and sit on that orange velvet couch in Central Perk with Joey and Rachel and Chandler when I’m having a bad day.

I’ve always wanted to create a world that people dream to be a part of. To write pages that readers want to morph into.

Simply put, I dream of readers buying a literary one way ticket and never wanting to leave my story.

To make people feel something is a superpower. I know because the art of writing makes me feel something everyday.

Art is one of the only things in the world that lets people understand each other. A poor man can read Gatsby and a rich man can watch Rent. We identify with the facets of lives we don’t know because of the parts of lives we do know—the universal feelings and experiences of being human.

Part of the raging imposter syndrome of being a writer is rooted in never thinking you’ll be as good as your heroes. I dream of the day that I can write an escapist read as immersively as Carley Fortune. But these neuroses also give us bars to strive for, occasions to rise to, as we continue to hone our craft. Because the honest truth, making one person feel an ounce of what we feel when we watch our comfort show or flip the crinkled pages of our go-to book for the thousandth time makes the sleepless nights and writers block and skipped meals completely worth it.

Summer Rayne is coming to Olive Press Publishing spring 2027. I hope her story and whirlwind summer make readers feel anything and everything once they step in the Shore Summer world.

-Julia ♥

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The Grass Is Always Greener On The Other Side Of The Existential Crisis