This story just occurred to me when I heard what Meredith said about why she and Castle broke up. I'm not a writer but I gave a chapter a go. If someone who can actually write likes the idea please write it! I would love to read the story of Kate using that as motivation to write a book inspired by Castle. Even if it's not like mine, your's could have Kate write a darker story on Castle's missing father (at that point) or something. I just like the idea of her going okay, he does know me well enough to write novels about a character based on me so I'm going to do the same for him.
"You know, being married to Richard was great- Full of romance and excitement, Like a deliciously sweet soufflé. And then one day, I realised, he knew everything about me- My deepest secrets, my worst pain- Enough to fill a million novels.
But I didn't know enough about him to even write a pamphlet."
Meredith's words echoed in her head for days. Castle actually has written books on her and as she sits at her desk, her pile of paperwork sitting untouched, an idea takes shape in her mind. Just for herself she is going to prove to Meredith and herself that she could fill novels about her partner. She's observant, a detective even, if anyone can learn a person it's her. With that thought she stacks up her paperwork for tomorrow and glances over at Ryan and Esposito.
"I'll see you tomorrow," gets thrown over her shoulder as she grabs her bag and hurries to the lift. Missing the matching looks of shock coming across her friends faces as they watch Kate Beckett leave work on time.
Arriving back to her apartment, finally fit for her to live in again. She dumps her back, grabs her laptop and stares at an open word document. The flashing of the cursor mesmerising her, so she can't think of a single sentence. Looking away and seeing an open bottle of wine on the counter, the blank document mocking her brilliant idea of a novel on Richard Castle, she pours a glass. Thankfully Castle was spending the night with Alexis, so Kate could drink her glass of wine and make a note to not mock the constant complaints about writers block from her partner in the future. Which gives her a thought. He wrote about her job as an inspiration, detectives and murders. With him as a writer. But Castle isn't just a writer, he's a father.
Suddenly, the idea of writing isn't as hard as she thought. The inspiration made her reconsider the genre. Maybe she wouldn't write a mystery about Castle, because while he has his moments, to her Richard Castle is fun. He adores his daughter, looks on the bright side of life and finds ways to interject humour and fun into dark situations, he finds the light in darker times. She knows he has his dark moments but dark doesn't necessarily mean more deep, and with that conclusion she made the decision to just sit and write. Words flowed from her fingers as she typed, the glass of wine sat forgotten at her side and the quiet of the apartment got filled with the patter of the keyboard and she sat as all she knew about Castle poured on to pages. What he finds funny, moments where he acts more like a child than his daughter, the theories he spins when a dead end is reached, each crazier the more stuck they get. Lost in memories and grinning as she realised just writing about him makes her as happy as the man himself, she looks around when sunlight hits her wrist. She had written all night.
The next day at the precinct she powered through her paperwork. Mind not on the reports as usual, she was preoccupied with more thoughts for her novel. The title had started spinning in her mind earlier while writing about 'James Bishop', her sneaky play on 'Jameson Rook'. She likes the thought of calling her novel Building Sand Castles. It reminds her of the story of Rick and a young Alexis making a sand castle village complete with multiple moats and bridges with tine crab residents. The picture sits in his office and every time she see's it she see's Richard Castle the dad. It's the perfect title, not just because 'Castle'.
With no bodies dropping and without Ryan and Esposito, who stayed and finished their paperwork last night, she too finished her stack early and bundled herself up in her coat and started walking outside. Wishing to write but not wanting to go back home. With that thought she saw a small cafe and hurried inside. Grabbing herself a coffee at the counter she found a small table in the corner and got back to her writing. Involuntarily her face lit up into a smile while teasing out the details of life as a single, rich, dad, who acts like a man child. Alexis would like that phrase, she thinks with a giggle. Before a couple of coughs cause her to look up. Standing in front of her is Gina, her smile slightly drops of her face as she looks at her partner's, her boyfriend's ex wife. And publicist.
That's the thought which starts it all, they really shouldn't always refer to Gina as the ex-wife and publicist, they should pick one descriptor based on context. But the context of this moment hasn't been set and with that thought a smile plasters on Kate's face as she turns to Gina and says her most ridiculous idea to date, so ridiculous she can't bring herself to engage in social niceties and pleasantries first,
"I'm writing a novel, to prove to Rick it's not as hard as he complains, and as a publicist would you mind reading a little of what I have so far. It won't prove a point if it's crap."
Gina's look of shock mirrors her own at what came out of her mouth, although she's thankful it wasn't the truth. That Meredith made her insecure. The seconds tick by while Gina looks at her before she sits, takes the second chair at the tiny table and turns the laptop screen to herself. Frozen in shock Kate just sits and waits. She drinks her, now cold, coffee. The silence of the woman next to her is deafening after the constant typing, and she can hear just the sounds of the other patrons and the cars on the streets. But their table is silent. A noiseless bubble in the noise of New York.
It may of only been a few minutes which felt like hours before Kate glances over at the screen, to see what Gina's reading. And once more her grin appears as she sees her reading the chapter based on Alexis' sixth birthday party, with Rick dressed up as a princess at his darling daughters request. Then she gave into the urge and looked at Gina's face too. There was a matching grin.
As if she could feel the eyes on her, she met Kate's eyes and said the last think she was expecting,
"Black Pawn would like to make an offer to publish you're book."
"Wait, WHAT!?"
"I haven't read something this fun in a long time, and I read for a living. In five minutes and a couple of thousand words you made me smile and relax. This story conveys a sense of humour and ease which is hard to find outside cheesy romance, but this can appeal to everyone. The character's though, they're complex, deep in a lighthearted way. I like you're writing and I publish books for a living. So I'm going to give you a few agents numbers and then I'm hoping to publish this book. How much do you have left to write?"
"Um, I, um, I have, ah, I wrote that over the, ah, past few days. But I, I don't know how to, um, write an actual novel, I just, I sit and it comes, but, when do I stop?"
"Well, I made Kate Beckett stumble on her words, this is a good day, but why don't you just do that and I'll work with an editor to split what comes in to a book or two."
At that Gina, still with a grin which had widened at Kate's shock, handed her a card and then grabbed some paper and wrote three names. Handing both over she said,
"Call those guys, the are good agents and pick which ever you like most. Hopefully I'll hear from you and one of them within the next few days. If you can write that fast, we could have you on the bestseller's list for Christmas."
And with that she was gone and Kate still hadn't moved.