4.5
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16,490 ratings
"The perfect escape." —USA Today
"Readers who loved Emily Henry's Book Lovers are sure to savor Nora Goes Off Script." —Shelf Awareness
Named one of the Best Beach Reads of Summer by The Washington Post • USA Today • Cosmopolitan • Southern Living • Country Living • Business Insider • Buzzfeed • Book Riot • The Augusta Chronicle
Nora’s life is about to get a rewrite…
Nora Hamilton knows the formula for love better than anyone. As a romance channel screenwriter, it’s her job. But when her too-good-to work husband leaves her and their two kids, Nora turns her marriage’s collapse into cash and writes the best script of her life. No one is more surprised than her when it’s picked up for the big screen and set to film on location at her 100-year-old-home. When former Sexiest Man Alive, Leo Vance, is cast as her ne’er do well husband Nora’s life will never be the same.
The morning after shooting wraps and the crew leaves, Nora finds Leo on her porch with a half-empty bottle of tequila and a proposition. He’ll pay a thousand dollars a day to stay for a week. The extra seven grand would give Nora breathing room, but it’s the need in his eyes that makes her say yes. Seven days: it’s the blink of an eye or an eternity depending on how you look at it. Enough time to fall in love. Enough time to break your heart.
Filled with warmth, wit, and wisdom, Nora Goes Off Script is the best kind of love story—the real kind where love is complicated by work, kids, and the emotional baggage that comes with life. For Nora and Leo, this kind of love is bigger than the big screen.
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ISBN-10
0593420055
ISBN-13
978-0593420058
Print length
304 pages
Language
English
Publisher
G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication date
February 27, 2023
Dimensions
5.17 x 0.66 x 7.91 inches
Item weight
2.31 pounds
At the corner of arrogance and cluelessness, you find the worst kind of person.
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And second, that the best things come back. Sometimes it’s right after the commercial, sometimes it takes longer. But time and sunshine bring growth, and life unfolds just the way it’s supposed to.
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The basic truth of parenting fills my heart: If your kids are okay, you don’t really have any problems. I will relish this feeling.
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ASIN :
B09FP465DT
File size :
2918 KB
Text-to-speech :
Enabled
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Supported
Enhanced typesetting :
Enabled
X-Ray :
Enabled
Word wise :
Enabled
“A witty and poignant roller coaster that springs a delightful surprise.” —People
“Monaghan’s witty adult debut novel perfectly captures the apprehension and excitement of infatuation blended with life’s complications.” —Washington Post
“The perfect escape from reality…In the best way.” —USA Today
"Who is ready for their next stellar and sparkling beach read? Nora Goes Off Script is a freaking delight. Charming, funny, uplifting and completely captivating, I devoured it in three days." —Elin Hilderbrand, author of The Hotel Nantucket
“[A] delightful work of fiction…A perfect blend between quotidian life and the fairytale magic possible only in the best Hollywood endings. Readers who loved Emily Henry's Book Lovers or Linda Holmes's Evvie Drake Starts Over are sure to savor Nora Goes Off Script.” —Shelf Awareness
“Filled with swoon-worthy moments and hilariously lovable characters.” —Woman’s World
“Nora Goes Off Script by Annabel Monaghan is funny and smart, with a Nancy Meyers–movie quality you’ll love and a main character you’ll want to befriend. This is the perfect easy-breezy, feel-good read.” —Real Simple
“Such a charming read” —Curtis Sittenfeld, author of Romantic Comedy
“Hallmark meets Hollywood in this gorgeous, fast, and poignant read that will keep you invested from the second you pick it up. A book to savor!”—Abby Jimenez, New York Times bestselling author of Yours Truly
“It’s giving a Hallmark Channel plot on a Nancy Meyers set…Part love story, part self-love story, this fun read is the perfect warm-up if don’t know where to start when it comes to your bookshelf.” —theSkimm
“Absolutely irresistible—funny, addictive and deliciously romantic, this is exactly the sort of book we all need right now. I loved every word.”—Rosie Walsh, author of The Love of My Life
“Funny and good-hearted—a romance for romantics, a blending of the real and the deliciously unreal.” —Linda Holmes, author of Evvie Drake Starts Over
“This perfectly-scripted love story left me feeling the way all the best romances do: filled with hope and the feeling that true love always wins. Nora Goes Off Script will be a reread, for sure.”—Jill Santopolo, New York Times bestselling author of The Light We Lost
“I loved this book with my whole heart. It's smart, fresh and romantic, full of humor and warmth. I didn't want to put it down.” —Beth O’Leary, author of The Flatshare
“[A] funny, clever, and joyful rom-com.” —Business Insider
“Likable characters, smart humor and a didn’t-see-it-coming ending makes this novel a must-read for summer.” —The Augusta Chronicle
“Irresistible…With pitch-perfect characters full of foibles and flaws, the work taps into genuine feelings as the characters fall in love. This is a winner.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Five starry-eyed stars for Nora Goes Off Script!...I honestly didn’t know how it would end. Pins and needles! I loved the small-town setting, Nora’s chance to start over after a bad marriage, and Nora’s children and best friends. Highly recommend!” —The Southern Bookseller Review
“Brimming with compelling characters….Readers will connect with the warmth and humor of this relationship-fiction gem.” —Booklist, starred review
“Warm, witty and wise, Nora Goes Off Script tells the truth about all of love’s ups and downs: family love, friendship love, romantic love that comes to a wrenching end—and love that triumphs so beautifully, you’ll still be smiling over it long after you’ve put the book down." —BookPage
“This funny and charming new novel tells the story of a divorced screenwriter who pens a script about her failed marriage and finds that it might just provide the fresh start she's looking for." —Southern Living
“There's a reason Nora Goes Off Script is on our list of the best books of the year….Whoever unwraps this delightful novel will devour it immediately. Who doesn't love a rom-com with a lovable female lead?” —Real Simple
“Monaghan’s warm, accessible prose will draw readers right into this novel about a romance-channel screenwriter whose script based on her marriage’s demise gets picked up for the big screen.” —Woman’s Day
“Funny, heartwarming, dreamy—everything I crave in a Hollywood rom-com is right here. I loved it so much I had to read the ending twice—once to see what happened and again to savor it.”—KJ Dell’Antonia, author of The Chicken Sisters
“With Nora Ephron-level wit and smarts, Annabel Monaghan performs something of a literary hat trick in Nora Goes Off Script. While sending-up the romance industry, she chronicles the very romantic (and oddly believable) love affair between a handsome film star and a divorced suburban mom and she turns tradition on its head. Because in this wise and funny novel, it’s the Hollywood hero who needs rescuing and a grounded single mom who saves the day. Nora Goes Off Script is sexy, heart-warming, and intelligent, and I loved it!” —Karen Dukess, author of The Last Book Party
“Annabel Monaghan’s first foray into women’s fiction is the book every one of us needs right now. This delightful, marvelously meta story will charm even the most cynical of readers. With her trademark wit and snappy dialogue, Monaghan has crafted charismatic characters that readers will want to befriend in real life. Nora Goes Off Scriptis that perfect combination of a wildly clever premise, a captivating cast, and enough heart to make all of us fall in love.” —Lynda Cohen Loigman, author of The Two Family House and The Wartime Sisters
“If you read one funny, feel good, page-turning book this year, make it this one. With her signature humor and snappy dialogue, Monaghan’s absolute gem of a book keeps you guessing, turning pages and wishing the characters could walk off the page and come over for dinner. You don’t have to be a hopeless romantic to love this book. You just have to be ready for a story you don’t want to end.” —Lee Woodruff, author of Those We Love Most
“I absolutely love Nora Goes Off Script by Annabel Monaghan. I love Nora. I love her voice. I love the romance. I love the pacing. I love that she’s a mum. I love it all.…It's got the vibes of Beach Read by Emily Henry, with the escapist glamour of Hollywood. Absolutely nails the comedy, the romance, and the sparkle. My favorite read of this year, and soon to be yours!”—Lizzy Dent, author of The Summer Job
“Nora Goes Off Script is a pure delight - a spirited, funny tale of unexpected romance, small town family life, and a lingering houseguest who happens to be Hollywood’s leading man. Monaghan has written a heartwarming romcom for the slightly cynical, a crisp, witty novel that is wish fulfillment at its most satisfying and a joy to devour in one sitting.”—Amy Poeppel, author of Small Admissions
“Filled with hopefulness, wit, truths, and tons of heart, Nora Goes Off Script is everything a reader wants in a charming and laugh-out-loud romantic comedy. I loved hanging out with Nora… her quirks and kids, her insecurities and triumphs, her near-misses and home runs, and I even missed her the day after I finished the book. Monaghan has written a page-turner till the very end with a twist I never saw coming.” —Susie Orman Schnall, author of We Came Here to Shine
“Nora’s discovery of her own needs and desires, especially in contrast to the person she had made herself into when married to her ex, is the driving force of the narrative.” —Kirkus Reviews
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Chapter 1
Hollywood's coming today.
I'm not going to lose my house.
Those two thoughts surface in the same moment as the sun starts to brighten my room. I've been paid for my screenplay, and the bonus money for letting them film here will hit my bank account at noon. Good-bye unpaid real estate taxes. Good-bye credit card debt. And to think, Ben's saying good-bye to me has made it all possible. I don't know how this day could get any better. I hop out of bed, grab my heaviest morning sweater, and head downstairs. I pour my coffee and go out to the porch to watch the sunrise.
Whoever buys this house from me, I always think, will tear it down. It's over a hundred years old; everything's broken. There's a certain point in January when the wind blows right into the kitchen and we have to duct-tape a fleece blanket over the doorframe. The floorboards droop; there are only two bathrooms and they're both upstairs. Each bedroom has a closet designed to house six outfits, preferably for very small people. Ben had a list of house complaints he used to like to run through daily, and I could never shake the feeling that he was really complaining about me.
This house is a disaster, sure. But I fell in love with it when I first looked down the long windy path of the driveway. The magnolia trees that line either side touch in the middle, so that now, in April, you drive through a tunnel of pink flowers. When you emerge onto the main road it feels like you've been transported from one world to another, like a bride leaving the church. It feels like a treat going out for milk, and it feels like a treat coming home.
The house was built by a British doctor named George Faircloth who lived in Manhattan and came upstate to Laurel Ridge in the summer, which explains the complete lack of winterization. It was built to be enjoyed on a seventy-eight-degree day and primarily from the outside. I imagine his landscaping this property like a maestro, arranging the magnolias and the forsythia beneath them to announce the beginning of spring. After a long gray winter, these first pink and yellow blooms shout, "Something's happening!" By May they'll have gone green with the rest of the yard, a quiet before the peonies and hydrangea bloom.
I knew I'd do anything to live here when I saw the tea house in the back. It's a one-room structure the doctor had commissioned to honor the ritual of formal tea. Where the main house is flimsy white clapboard with peeling black shutters, the tea house is made of gray stone with a slate roof. It has a small working fireplace and oak-paneled walls. It's as if Dr. Faircloth reached over the pond and plucked it out of the English countryside. I distinctly remember hearing Ben use the word "shed" when we walked into it, and I ignored him the way you do when you're trying to stay married.
The first morning we woke up here, I got up at first light because we didn't have any curtains yet. I took my coffee to the front porch, and the sunrise was the surprise of my life. I'd never seen the house at six a.m. I didn't even know we were facing east. It was like a gift with purchase, a reward for loving this broken place.
I stand on the porch now, taking it in before the movie crew arrives. Pink ribbons, then orange creep up behind the wide-armed oak tree at the end of my lawn. The sun rises behind it differently every day. Some days it's a solid bar of sherbet that rolls up like movie credits and fills the sky. Some days the light dapples through the leaves in a muted gray. The oak won't have leaves for a few weeks, just tiny yellow and white blooms pollinating one another and promising a lawn full of acorns. My lawn is its best self in April, particularly in the morning when it's dew-kissed and catching the light. I don't know the science behind all of it, but I know the rhythm of this property like I know my own body. The sun will rise here every single day.
By the time I've gotten my kids up and fed and off to school, I've changed my clothes six times. I stand in front of the mirror in the same jeans and T-shirt I started with, and realize the problem is my hair. The frizz isn't as bad as it's going to be in August, but it's still pretty intense. People in Hollywood have tamed hair, or if it's wild, it's been professionally disorganized. I dunk my head in my bathroom sink and then get to work blowing out my hair piece by piece, something I don't think I've done since my wedding day in my childhood bathroom with my bridesmaids crammed in behind me.
When my hair is straight, it's still only nine a.m. They're supposed to be here at ten, and I know that if I spend any more time in front of a mirror, I am going to overthink myself into a panic. I decide I look perfectly fine for a thirty-nine-year-old mother of two. And it's not like I'm auditioning for this movie; I wrote it. I decide to go into town and do some non-urgent errands. Maybe I'll get home after they've arrived so I can show up in an oh-hey-I-lost-track-of-time kind of way. I'll walk into the Hollywood version of my real-life drama in full swing, like it's some kind of sick surprise party.
I kill as much time as I can by dropping a pair of boots at the shoe repair and browsing the discount rack at the bookstore. I stop by the hardware store to chat with Mr. Mapleton about his hip surgery and to pick up the stack of crossword puzzles he saves me from his paper each week. By ten o'clock, I run out of things to do, so I know it's time to go home and see exactly what a movie crew looks like and what the consequences will be to my lawn.
I've misjudged, and they're late, so I'm back on the front porch watching their arrival. I grip the railing as the eighteen-wheelers barrel down my dirt driveway, dislodging the lowest magnolia blossoms and darkening the sky with startled birds. For a second, my whole property looks like a Hitchcock movie.
I never saw this coming. I'm as surprised as anybody that The Tea House is being made into a real movie. The last movie I wrote was called Kisses for Christmas, an eighty-minute TV movie with well-timed breaks in the action to make room for the forty minutes of commercials. The one before that was Hometown Hearts, which is pretty much the same story, but it takes place in the fall. My superpower is methodically placing a man and woman in the same shiny town, populated by unusually happy people with maddeningly small problems. They bristle at first and then fall in love. It's all smiles until one of them leaves, but then comes back immediately after the commercial break. Every. Single. Time.
The Tea House is a departure from the formula and is definitely the best thing I've ever written. The first thing my agent, Jackie, said when she'd finished reading it was, "Are you okay?" I laughed because, sure, it did seem like I'd gone dark. The story runs deeper, with heavy doses of torture and introspection, and for sure the guy doesn't come back at the end. In the months after Ben left, I sold two fun, light scripts to The Romance Channel, but then this darker thing sort of spilled out of me. I'd tried to keep my personal life to myself after Ben left, but I guess some stories just want to be told.
"I mean this is great," she started. "But this is like a big film, not for The Romance Channel. If it's okay with you, I'm going to pitch this to major studios."
"That's going to be a major waste of your time," I said, pulling crabgrass in my front yard. "No one wants to watch two hours of angst and abandonment. I swear I tried to perk it up at the end, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stomach him walking back through the door."
"Nora. It hasn't even been a year."
"I know. So I need to get back to what I do best. Do whatever you want with this thing; I think maybe I just needed to get it off my chest. Everything okay with your mom?"
"She's fine. Give me a couple of weeks on this. This script is a game changer."
As the first truck stops in front of my house, nine of its eighteen wheels on my grass, I realize that the game has indeed changed. I hold on to the porch railing for support as two more trucks start unloading cameras, lighting, furniture, people.
A pink-haired young woman with a clipboard and a smile approaches me. "Hey, you must be Nora. Don't freak out. Cuz I'd be totally freaking out. I'm Weezie, Leo's assistant."
"Hi. Not freaking out. I can replant the grass." I reach out to shake her free hand.
Another woman, closer to my age in a black jumpsuit, approaches. "I'm Meredith Cohen, executive producer."
"Nora Hamilton, homeowner," I manage, still hanging on to the porch railing. "And writer," I add, because I'm awkward.
"Listen," Meredith says. "We're a lot. Hell, just Leo's a lot these days. We're going to make a lot of noise and a big mess, and then we'll clean it all up and be out of your hair in two days. Three, tops."
"That's fine; it's what I expected. I've never seen a movie shoot before, kind of exciting." A red pickup truck pulls completely onto the grass, towing a silver Airstream trailer. "What's that?"
Weezie turns and laughs. "Oh, here he is. Of course, that's Leo. We're all staying at the Breezeport Hilton; he doesn't stay at Hiltons." She rolls her eyes and smiles again, like it's mildly annoying but also adorable that this guy is wrecking my lawn.
"Leo Vance is going to sleep in that thing? In my front yard?"
"It can't be avoided. He's quirky. But he's got a bathroom in there and we have a honeywagon coming for everyone else. So don't worry about your house."
The Airstream door opens and out steps a forty-year-old, shoeless superstar. His jeans hang too low and his gray T-shirt is torn in two places. His hair needs a trim, and he's way too handsome to play Ben. But then again, Naomi Sanchez is playing me. He squints up at the sky as he gets his bearings, as if he's emerging from the dark after twenty-four hours. It's eleven a.m. and we're only a ninety-minute drive from New York City.
Leo Vance is the highest-paid leading man in Hollywood. I know this because I've been googling him for three days. He has homes in Manhattan, Bel Air, and Cap d'Antibes. He owns a share of an NBA franchise. No kids, never married. A Libra. He's originally from New Jersey and has a brother.
I've seen every one of Leo's movies, which isn't really a credit to him. I've seen a lot of movies. He's a good actor, and he's most famous for his smoldering stare. I have to say, it's a little over the top. In his first film, Sycamore Nights, he gave his co-star Aileen Bennett a series of white-hot smolders that got him named Sexiest Man Alive that year. I guess it became his signature move, so he kept it up film after film, even when it was entirely unnecessary. Like in Battle for the Home Front, he's telling his newly pregnant wife that he has to go away to war, and he's smoldering. Or in Class Action, he's giving a commencement speech at a military academy and smoldering all over everyone's parents and grandparents. And don't get me started on African Rose. A refugee center with a wild malaria outbreak is no place to smolder. Leo Vance seems prone to the inappropriate oozing of sex appeal.
When the smolder is turned off, he has an impressive range of smiles that are unique to each film. They range from timid to maniacal, and I've always admired the way he can keep each one consistent throughout an entire film. I'm curious to see what smile he'll invent for The Tea House. What smile would he imagine Ben having? I can't even remember the last time I saw Ben smile.
Leo Vance is walking toward my porch, and I brace myself for an introduction. Perfection on the screen, scruffy in real life. He is going to be transformed into a man with a lot of issues who ends up walking away from the woman he built a life with. Leave it to Ben to be maddening enough to make me finally write something worthwhile. I smile at the irony of Ben actually helping out after all.
Leo brushes past me on the porch like I'm not there, then stops and takes a step back. "You're missing a dimple," he says.
"The other one's inside," I say.
He nods and walks into my house like he owns the place. Not much of a meet cute.
Meeting the director, Martin Cox, is as intimidating as I anticipated. Weezie's gone in after Leo, so he finds Meredith and me on the porch. "You must be Nora." He's not tall but he's big, and I can't decide if he's physically big or if it's his presence that takes up a lot of space.
I shake his hand and try not to say anything else. If I start talking, I'll tell him what I thought of the final scene in Alabaster and why I think he was robbed of an Oscar. I'll tell him that the lighting alone in The Woman Beneath was sublime. Mainly to avoid using the word "sublime," I keep my mouth shut.
"So, can we see it?" he asks. I lead Meredith and Martin behind my house to where the tea house sits at the entrance to the woods. There is no path to it, just lawn, so that a consequence of visiting the tea house is almost always wet shoes. I'd left the big oak door open, as is my habit, because with the door open, you can see straight through the steel windows on the back wall into the mouth of the forest. It gives me the feeling of endless possibility.
The tea house is a sacred space to me. The space in which I have been able to preserve myself by writing. And, unlike the main house, it is airtight against the elements. I imagine the Faircloths approaching the tea house as I do, anticipating a fire in the fireplace and a table lain with tea and treats. I imagine lovers meeting here for hushed conversation and first kisses. Ben had always wanted to use it for storage.
It may have come down to that, for all I know. My belief that the last thing the world needs is more storage, versus Ben’s belief that he needed a third motorcycle. Among the many consolations around his leaving are that he took most of his stuff with him, and he didn’t ask for the kids.
The tea house plays prominently in the breakup of our marriage, which is what earned it the title role. Ben resented the time I spent out there; he resented the work I did. He resented the fact that I’d been paying our bills for the past 10 years. Which made two of us, actually. The more competent I became at taking care of our family, the more he despised me. The more he despised me, the harder I worked to make things right. Me, writing in the tea house, was a mirror he didn’t want to look into. That’s how it goes in the movie. In real life, I don’t know, maybe he left because he just wanted more storage. Ben wanted more of just about everything.
Now, as we approach, I hear Martin catch his breath. "It’s otherworldly," he says. “The photo doesn’t do it justice.”
I smile and keep walking. "Well, it’s certainly from another time. This is where I write."
It’s warm for April, and the slate roof glistens in the sun from last night’s rain. Two giant hydrangea bushes flank the door. They’re getting their first leaves now, hopeful celery colored things, but soon they’ll be bursting with cerulean blue blooms the size of my head. “If you could have waited until July, you would have seen these in bloom,” I say to no one, because Martin has already walked inside.
"This is absolutely perfect," he says, running his hands over the paneled walls. He pulls out a walkie talkie, "I’m back in the tea house. Bring the linens for the daybed, I’m going to need 3 o’clock sunshine coming through the back window. And a mop. Make sure Leo and Naomi are in make-up."
Weezie gives me a little wink, presumably to make me feel better about the mop comment. I give her a shrug, what do I care? "Okay so I’ll get out of your way, let me know if you need anything."
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Annabel Monaghan
David Nicholls is the bestselling author of Starter for Ten, The Understudy, One Day, Us, Sweet Sorrow and now You Are Here. One Day was published in 2009 to extraordinary critical acclaim: translated into 40 languages, it became a global bestseller, selling millions of copies worldwide. His fourth novel, Us, was longlisted for the Booker Prize for Fiction.
On screen, David has written adaptations of Far from the Madding Crowd, When Did You Last See Your Father? and Great Expectations, as well as of his own novels, Starter for Ten, One Day and Us. His adaptation of Edward St Aubyn's Patrick Melrose, starring Benedict Cumberbatch, was nominated for an Emmy and won him a BAFTA for best writer.
He is also the Executive Producer and a contributing screenwriter on a new Netflix adaptation of One Day. His latest novel, You Are Here, will be published in spring 2024.
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Customer reviews
4.5 out of 5
16,490 global ratings
Stephanie Ronco
5
Inventive and Fun!
Reviewed in the United States on July 28, 2024
Verified Purchase
Monaghan’s story was richly imagined and perfectly paced, and I found myself on page 80 before I remembered that I was only going to read the sample before I went to sleep.
And the details were so resonant! Being pitied by an entire town is my nightmare, and Monaghan explored it, and other fascinating situations, with wit and grace. There were also whole sections that were fun to read a second time with fresh knowledge as well.
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K. Swenson
5
Great Romance- not too graphic and great storyline
Reviewed in the United States on July 23, 2024
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I have been reading a lot of romances this summer and I really like this author. This story has great character development, an interesting plot line, and the sex scenes aren’t graphic, which I really like. Great beach read. I got through it in less than a week.
Emily
5
New favorite book
Reviewed in the United States on July 22, 2024
Verified Purchase
I just discovered Annabelle Monaghan and I love her books! Her writing is refreshing and a little quirky. Her characters have flaws and insecurities that make you want to root for them. The hard parts feel real and the conversations are silly at times. Great beach read.
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