I've been dragging my feet about writing this post. Let's face it. Most of us would much prefer to forget about 2020 rather than look back at it. But I don't think we can do a good job of looking forward without acknowledging what we've been through. I released two books in 2020. Under the Radar came out in late February. I had lots of travel plans, book festivals, mystery conferences, and book signings lined up. I managed to squeak in my launch party, a joint event with pal Liz Milliron at Mystery Lovers Bookshop.  But the rest of my plans fell, one by one, like dominos.  My second 2020 book, Til Death , came out in June.  My launch party and subsequent appearances were virtual. My sales took a hit, but not as bad as I'd anticipated. Folks were stuck at home and reading more. Plus, with no travel expenses, my finances balanced out.  Still, my writing career seemed to be in freefall for much of the year. Til Death was the last book of my contract. As I wrote it, I

I can't bring myself to celebrate winter. I've never skied. My sledding and inner-tubing days are long behind me. I used to attempt skating, but the memories of landing on my backside keep me from ever trying it again.  Nope, I don't do winter.  But I love Winter Solstice. It's about looking forward to more hours of daylight. This is it. We've bottomed out on the darkness quotient and are heading toward spring! We had snow last week. It was pretty. Yes, although I don't do winter, I can appreciate the beauty of Mother Nature painting the world in black and white.  Ask me again in January or February (or March!) and I won't have anything nice to say about snow. But it's the week leading up to Christmas, so I'm okay with it. Ha! As if I get a say! The longest year in the history of the world is winding down. I'm cautiously optimistic about the New Year, although I have no illusions about things suddenly becoming rosy just because the ball drops at

In writing and in life, patience is not only a virtue, it's a survival necessity. Being doggedly stubborn also helps. Almost twenty years ago, when we last had the roof on our log cabin replaced, I wanted GREEN. Preferably green steel. But the menfolk in my family solidly refused and I ended up with brown shingles.  Blah. I'm not usually a nag, but ever since, every time I see a green roof on a log home, I point it out to my husband in the most obnoxious manner possible. Believe me, he got the point.  Three years ago, we installed new entry and storm doors. I insisted on green for the storm doors. So they'd match the green steel roof I would one day have. Two years ago, we had a garage built next to our house. It was my husband's dream, and I let him pick all the details...except for the color. And yes, the roof was green steel so it would match the green steel roof I would one day have on the house as well. This spring, we had a horrendous hailstorm. It put huge divots

My much-anticipated writing retreat didn't quite go off as planned. I lost two days helping a friend deal with a family health emergency ( NOT COVID) and then Hubby returned home early from his hunting trip. As a result, I had only one full day of blessed solitude to write. I did, however, make good use of it. I completed a very rough first draft of Fatal Reunion (Zoe Chambers #11) as well as another round of polish to the thoroughbred racetrack mystery I plan to release in May 2021.  I had one other "distraction" but it was a good one. Yesterday, I signed a three-book contract with Level Best Books to continue the Zoe series! I'm thrilled to have found a home for the Monongahela County gang. It will be a while (spring 2022) before Fatal Reunion hits the bookstore shelves, but such is the publishing business.  As for NaNoWriMo, I did not technically "win." But seeing as I managed to produce a completed manuscript, I definitely don't see it as a loss.

 I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving. Yes, it was definitely different this year, but it was still nice. There was just my husband, his mom, and me. And plenty of food.  As is the family tradition, this morning, Hubby and the Nephew headed off to hunting camp. That will be different too since there will only be three men sharing the camp.  Meanwhile, I have set aside the next few days as my own personal writing retreat. No packing, no driving. Just me, Kensi, and my computer. And a big pot of chili. Hubby dislikes the stuff, so once a year, I cook up a batch and eat it until the hunters return home.  My plan is to use the retreat template my dear friend Ramona Long used when we all gathered at the Clare House near Philly.  The Retreat House Retreat buddies, Martha Reed  and Edith Maxwell My writing space on retreat Meditation and some yoga in the morning. Coffee and breakfast. Writing. Coffee and lunch. A walk. Writing. Maybe a nap. More writing. Supper. During and after supper, there w

I tried using the blog feature on my website, but it's just not working for me. I'm still at Writers Who Kill, although only once a month now. And things are starting to happen in my world, so here I am.  At some point late in October, I decided to do NaNoWriMo AKA National Novel Writing Month. The idea is to write a complete 50,000-word novel in one month. It happens every November, and while I've used the group energy to boost my word counts in the past, I've never done it on an official basis before. Two incentives pushed me into it. One: I needed a distraction from the political overload steamrolling our way in November. Two: I was 35,000 words into my current manuscript and was floundering. I figured 50K more would give me a completed first draft.  As of right now, I'm at almost 42,000 NaNo words (77,000 manuscript words) and the end is in sight.  In other news... Right after signing up for NaNoWriMo, I signed with an agent! Dawn Dowdle of Blue Ridge Literary i