I’m looking for the perfect town. It can’t be too hot or too cold, too rich or too poor, too big or too small, and preferably there will be an adorable cat or dog and a plate of cookies at every house and shop. Oh, and this town must have at least one charming bookstore, multiple gourmet restaurants, a sleepy police department, and very few troublesome children. I’d like to visit the area in person, you see, but even the combined power of Google Maps, Siri and Waze can’t seem to locate it. Can you tell me how to get to Cozy Street?
So it’s officially Monday and I’m at the keyboard, ready to plunge back into my manuscript-in-progress. Maybe “progress” isn’t quite the right word, but I’ve been thinking about it. And “plunge” might not be exactly the correct description, either. But I’m here, prepping to work, and that counts, right? Cue a few background bars of that inspiring oldie “Back in the Saddle Again.” On the other hand, please don’t.
As you read this, I am (hopefully) chugging along on the Acela Express from Boston to New York City, where my daughter is getting married on Friday. Please forgive me that I am re-sharing a post from a while back because, well…I’m a wee bit stressed and running behind schedule. But really, the cautionary tale of poor old Charlie, who rides the train forever through the streets of Boston, bears repeating…
We might not have cleaned up in the casino–but the Chicks were well represented at Left Coast Crime this weekend in the Biggest Little City in the World: Reeeeeeno!!! And guess what? Our very own Kellye Garrett won the Lefty for Best Debut Mystery Novel with Hollywood Homicide–and Ellen Byron brought home the trophy for A Cajun Christmas Killing in the Best Humorous category!
As I write this, it’s 10:30 p.m. and the closing credits of the 2018 Winter Olympic Games from Pyeongchang are running in the background. And I won’t lie: I am now officially exhausted from two weeks of late-night TV coverage, post-show highlights, and the pressing need to replay clips of Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, the Canadian gold medalists in Ice Dancing, on endless loop.
So what happens when a mystery author (me) attends an Agatha Christie-style dinner in an actual mansion? Does she solve the crime and command everyone to gather in the drawing room for the astonishing reveal? Let’s just say I may never get a shot at that guest star role on Murder, She Wrote…
T.S. Eliot was wrong. April isn’t the cruelest month. It’s November, and for good reason: Everyone is so crazy busy. For me, it brings the Crime Bake writers conference, last call for NH real estate before the snows, multiple sets of house guests, two Thanksgivings, and…my annual attempt to jam out 50,000 words on a brand new manuscript for NaNoWriMo (aka National Novel Writing Month).