

Reese Witherspoon has finally jumped from recommending books to writing one. Her first novel, Gone Before Goodbye, lands next year, co-written with Harlan Coben — thriller god, plot-twist wizard, and now apparently Reese’s literary partner-in-crime.
The story? A former Army surgeon who loses her medical license, takes a suspicious new job, and ends up caught in a web of lies. A missing patient, a buried past, a looming threat — it’s basically tailor-made for Reese’s production company to adapt before the ink dries. You can already picture her on the poster: trench coat, perfect blowout, moral conflict.

It’s not exactly shocking. Reese already runs a mini empire through Reese’s Book Club, single-handedly turning unknown authors into global sensations. Writing her own novel was just a matter of time — and she’s smart enough to call in Harlan Coben to make sure the plot doesn’t collapse under celebrity ambition.
Of course, the literary gatekeepers will sneer. They always do. Another Hollywood star “trying fiction,” they’ll say, rolling their eyes between panel discussions on “authentic voices.” But let’s be honest — if anyone’s earned the right to cash in on the book-to-screen pipeline she built, it’s Witherspoon.
This isn’t a vanity project; it’s a calculated move. She knows her audience, she knows the algorithm, and she knows that pairing her brand with Harlan’s thriller pedigree is basically printing money. It’s marketing genius disguised as creative expression.
Will it win literary awards? We can’t say. Will it sell? Instantly. The woman could publish a pamphlet titled How I Fold Laundry and still hit the top of the charts. At least this one sounds like a ride — slick, fast, and unapologetically commercial. Reese built her empire championing other people’s stories. Now she’s writing one of her own, and, as usual, she’s two steps ahead of everyone else pretending to be surprised.
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