Lara Strathmore
on Soft Power
When Lara Strathmore writes, she doesn’t confess—she composes. Set in Manhattan’s sharpest rooms and quietest corridors, her debut novella, Soft Power, pulses with restraint, desire, and the quiet ache of becoming. We sat down with Lara ahead of its release—not to ask what happened, but to feel what it meant.
Studio Sirela: You open Soft Power with a moment that feels more clinical than romantic. Why begin there?
Lara Strathmore: Because that’s where I was. I wanted the first page to feel emotionally sterile—not out of coldness, but out of disconnection. We often write about love as if it begins when two people meet. Mine didn’t. It began in the absence. In a room where I wasn’t being touched so much as tolerated. That contrast mattered.
Studio Sirela: Your love interest enters not with a kiss, but with a lecture. What was it about his presence that disarmed you?
Lara Strathmore: He didn’t try. That was the most seductive thing. In a room full of people competing to be heard, he held silence like it belonged to him. I’ve always been drawn to the kind of power that doesn’t announce itself. His felt earned—and therefore dangerous.
Studio Sirela: There’s a moment early on where he calls you “dangerous.” Did you believe him?
Lara Strathmore: Not at first. I thought it was flirtation, or worse—manipulation disguised as flattery. But later, I understood. He wasn’t afraid of what I’d do to him. He was afraid of what I might make him see in himself. I think that’s a different kind of danger entirely.
Studio Sirela: You write about seduction almost like it’s a study. Was that intentional?
Lara Strathmore: Yes. For me, seduction isn’t just physical. It’s structural. Rhythmic. There’s a psychology to it—a kind of elegant manipulation that can be deeply honest, if you let it be. Soft Power isn’t a fantasy. It’s a record of what happens when you intellectualize intimacy until it becomes something you can no longer control.
Studio Sirela: There are three major scenes of intimacy in the book—each more emotionally charged than the last. What changed between them?
Lara Strathmore: I did. The first was curiosity. The second was surrender. The third was clarity. Intimacy, for me, isn’t about the act. It’s about the internal shift that follows. Sometimes, the softest moments hurt the most. Because they show you what it could be… if only.
Studio Sirela: What role does silence play in your relationship with him?
Lara Strathmore: Everything. Our silences weren’t empty—they were deliberate. Weighted. I’ve always believed that how someone looks at you when they say nothing, tells you more than a hundred declarations. There’s a scene in the book—we’re in his office, and he doesn’t stop me. Just says, “Then go.” I still hear it.
Studio Sirela: At several points, you choose to walk away. Were those acts of power or protection?
Lara Strathmore: Both. Power, when it’s real, doesn’t need to be loud. Sometimes it’s choosing your own company over proximity. Sometimes it’s silence. I didn’t leave to punish him—but to protect the parts of me that still wanted to be chosen, not just desired.
Studio Sirela: You’ve dated a man who’s not so easy to love. Why him?
Lara Strathmore: Because ease was never the point. I wanted to date the kind of man who forces you to confront your own emotional architecture—the scaffolding you’ve built around your want. Loving him certainly wasn’t soft.
Studio Sirela: You end the book not with closure, but with presence. Was that your intention?
Lara Strathmore: Yes. Soft Power isn’t about resolution. It’s about reclamation. I didn’t want a bow. I wanted a mirror—one that showed me standing, intact. Maybe that’s the real ending. Not who stays or leaves, but who you become in the aftermath.
Studio Sirela: What’s the one thing you hope readers feel when they finish the final page?
Lara Strathmore: That power can be quiet. That desire can be intelligent. That sometimes, the most intimate thing isn’t the body—it’s the way someone reads your handwriting and remembers. And maybe—if you’ve ever walked away from someone who almost saw you—that you weren’t alone.
A work of contemporary women’s literary fiction, Soft Power is an introspective, character-driven novella about forbidden intimacy, psychological power, and female self-discovery in modern New York. For readers of Anaïs Nin and Sally Rooney.
Tropes Include Age Gap | Office Tension | Forbidden Mentorship | Female Self‑Discovery | Luxe Manhattan | Psychological Intimacy