I am delighted to be welcoming Laurel Osterkamp to Novel Kicks as we shine a light on her book, The Side Project. 

For anyone who’s ever wondered “what if,” Laurel Osterkamp’s The Side Project is a deeply resonant story about second chances, unfinished business, and the redemptive power of storytelling.

Rylee once dreamed of moving to California and becoming a writer, but life had other plans. A decade later, she’s stuck in her Minnesota hometown, working odd jobs, caring for her teenage brother, and haunted by the incomplete novel her late father left behind. Carson was her high school love—the one who got away, or perhaps the one who ran. Now a single dad, he’s focused on providing for his daughter and avoiding the messiness of emotional entanglement. When the two are unexpectedly assigned as writing partners in a graduate workshop, a no-strings-attached collaboration emerges—but the emotional strings are impossible to ignore. With their final class approaching and unspoken truths threatening to break their fragile trust, Rylee and Carson must decide: will they keep editing their past, or finally write a new ending?

Laurel Osterkamp has shared an extract with us today. We hope you enjoy. 

*****beginning of extract*****

I steel myself and step out of my car, determined to keep things businesslike today. The sight of Carson outside raking leaves, ruggedly adorable with Ferris running circles around his feet, does nothing to break my resolve. I tell myself: You’re here to work. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Hey, Rylee.” He grins, pushing up his sleeves. “You’re right in time to hold the leaf bag.”

I don’t have time to respond before a happy splash of black fur races past us, yipping and barking. I laugh, and Carson shakes his head, smiling as well.

“Ferris loves chasing leaves,” Carson says.

Ferris circles us. Running in the autumn wind, his mouth is full of fluttering colors and twigs.

I contemplate Carson’s leaf bag. “The hardest part is always getting in the first few handfuls of leaves. Did you know they have these cardboard insert thingies that keep the bag open?”

Carson holds his rake with one hand. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. My dad was excited when he discovered them at the hardware store. It used to be our thing, my dad and I, bagging leaves together.”

“Oh.” Carson’s mouth goes slack, and his eyes pool with sympathy. It’s like he backed over a bunny rabbit by accident. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up old memories.”

I wave off the awkwardness as if I’m shooing away bugs. “No worries. It won’t break me to hold the bag open, and I’ll even push down the leaves as you put them in.” My words come out in a rush. “Where should I put my computer?”

“I’ll put it inside. Do you also want me to take your purse?”

“Sure, thanks.” I hand him both.

He takes them through his front door as a gust of wind threatens to upend Carson’s carefully constructed leaf pile. I snatch up the rake, ready for battle. “You won’t escape me, bitches!” I yell at the flying leaves.

I look over to see Carson on his front stoop, watching my wild efforts like I’m a vaudeville spectacle he can’t quite believe. Embarrassed, I kick at the ground. “I didn’t want all your hard work ruined.”

Continue reading →

by