HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: This is such a tender subject. And if you’ve never thought about it, it means you have lifelong friends. And I mean–lifelong, not just dear and relied on, or not just necessary for your very existence, or beloved, or remarkable. I mean: Lifelong.
And this is something the amazingly talented and truly wonderful Jessica Strawser–a dear and relied-on and beloved and remarkable friend, necessary for my very existence–and I have in common. See if you do, too.
The Mystery of Lifelong Friends
When I was a kid, my family relocated several times, zigzagging Pennsylvania as my dad navigated job transfers from one corporate region to another. At the time, I hated moving—so much, in fact, that any time my parents said we needed to talk, their faces serious, I’d cross my arms and demand to know right then: “We’re not moving again, are we?”
(The next time we moved, they actually broke the news by saying, “Um … it’s about that thing you’re always worried it’s about.” Oh, the surge of dread.)
Of course, I came to understand this upbringing had its upsides. It builds character to hold your head high and walk into a school where you don’t know a soul, to learn to make new friends quickly, and even to spend summer days curled up with a good book because you haven’t met the neighbors yet. It helped me grow into a person who wasn’t afraid to go after what I wanted, even when it meant striking out on my own to get it.
There was one big thing I missed out on, though.
I never kept a childhood friend close. I have wonderful friends I’ve known since high school or college, people I’ve stayed in touch with for decades … but not a single lifelong friend.
You know the kind I mean: The kind you bond with in kindergarten when you discover you have matching lunchboxes, and grow with through the awkward years of adolescence, sharing all the big firsts: first kiss, first heartbreak, first time away from home, first job, first love …
The kind who will stand next to you at weddings and baby showers and funerals and your own kids’ graduation parties, trading inside jokes about old bad haircuts no one else remembers anymore, and who will always, always be able to say she knew you way back when, at virtually every age.
So many of us are drawn to stories of that kind of friendship, and they’re some of my own favorites: I’ve cried over Beaches and Firefly Lane with the best of them. But for me, I think those kinds of characters have always held a bit of mystery, too.
What would it really be like, to have a friend who shares so much of your history?
A friend who knows your secret hopes and dreams as well as her own … but might not share the same ones for herself (or even for you)?
When we say a friend is like a sister or a brother, do we really mean it? Or will there always be a difference? Will a friend always be, by definition, someone that—as circumstances change—one of you might walk away from, lose touch with, or otherwise leave behind?
Some people say to write what you know. I say to write what you wish you knew.
So maybe it was inevitable that I’d come to write my own story of lifelong best friends… and wrap them in a mystery. My seventh novel, Catch You Later, focuses on two women stuck in their dead-end Midwestern town who would do anything for each other—but who want very different things out of life.
Lark and Mikki work night shift at the interstate travel stop and make up their own rules for making the best of things in the middle of nowhere: 1) Say yes as much as possible, and 2) Keep your eyes open for a ride out. So when a stranger drops in heading to a destination beach wedding and spontaneously invites Mikki to be his plus one, it’s no real surprise to Lark when Mikki takes off her apron and gets in his car right then … that is, until she fails to return. And Lark’s worst, loneliest nightmare begins.
Eight years later, Lark is finally getting her life back together for the sake of her young daughter and Mikki’s lovably prickly grandma, who can no longer care for herself. But when the stranger who drove off with Mikki reappears looking for her, nobody knows what to believe—Lark most of all.
Structuring this book meant weaving together two very different best friends’ points of view across the miles and over the years: Readers get to ride along with Mikki as she gets in the car that fateful night, then flash forward to Lark searching for her in the aftermath. Many early readers have said that as much as they enjoyed unraveling the cold case of what really happened to Mikki, they loved feeling a part of their lifelong friendship more.
I dare say that when I came to writing it, I agree.
JESS and HANK : What about you, Reds and readers? Do you have a favorite “best friends” story, whether a book, a movie, or from your own life? We’d love to hear about it.
Jessica Strawser is editor-at-large at Writer’s Digest and the USA Today bestselling author of seven popular book club novels, including Almost Missed You; Not That I Could Tell (a Book of the Month pick); A Million Reasons Why; The Next Thing You Know (a People Magazine Pick), The Last Caretaker (an Amazon Editors First Reads selection), and Catch You Later, new October 22, 2024. She lives with her husband and two children in Cincinnati, Ohio, where she was awarded an Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award for 2024. Find her on Instagram and Facebook @jessicastrawserauthor.
MORE ABOUT CATCH YOU LATER
One impulsive decision changes the lives of two best friends forever in a powerful novel of suspense by the USA Today bestselling author of The Last Caretaker.
If Lark and Mikki didn’t have each other, they’d have nothing in this miserable town. So the best friends stick together, working night shift at the highway travel stop, going nowhere fast. Until a stranger drops in, heading for Florida, and Mikki impulsively leaves with him, never to be seen again.
Eight years later, Lark is finally getting her life back together for the sake of her young daughter and Mikki’s lovably prickly grandma, who can no longer care for herself. People have almost stopped blaming Lark for Mikki’s disappearance, and she’s engaged to the nicest guy on highway patrol. But when the stranger who drove off with Mikki reappears looking for her, nobody knows what to believe.
As the search reignites, Lark fights to find out whether Mikki is really missing or doesn’t want to be found. But piecing together the chain of events set into motion that fateful night could threaten everything—and everyone—Lark has left.
“Strawser increases tension by telling both stories propulsively, leading readers hanging from one chapter to the next…Readers will flock to this fresh take on the missing-girl trope.” —Booklist (starred review)



















