F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote in a letter, “I love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything.” He was, of course, talking about his own dear Zelda. February is the perfect month to celebrate love letters such as the ones between Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. Unlike valentines, letters go beyond holiday love to reveal the myriad nuances of our strongest emotion.
Writing Workshop Winner!
A long-lost relative, a trampoline gun, or a hero named Jack? Why not read a mystery with all three! Today on my blog, I’m sharing Andy White’s short story “The Mystery of the Space Bombings.” Andy White is the winner of my 6th Grade Writing Workshop Contest at St. Katharine Drexel in Sioux Falls, SD. Please encourage this gifted young writer by liking, commenting, and sharing!
Chapter 1, The Place
There was once a little boy named Jack. I’m Jack. I love to draw and write. One day, I found myself sitting along the edge of a bridge doing my homework with my friend Will. Will is a smart friendly person who likes to express himself.
New Year Vibes
I’ve been reading a lot of blogs, posts, and articles lately about everything new year: diets, planners, yoga. The one thing I’ve learned (besides that I should drink more water) is that January, at first blush, seems to be about change. Changing eating habits, reading habits, writing habits. More of one thing, less of another. Cynics say resolutions are pointless and that in three weeks or less, the gym will thin out, book sales will dwindle, and we will go back to being the same people we were in December. Why waste our time?
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!

Christmas Tree 2017
This year we were smart; we bought our tree before the first snowfall. It’s short and fat, and my husband hardly broke a sweat stuffing it into the trunk. For a guy who’s used to suffering much in the tree lot, it all seemed too easy. But I reminded him of the big tree he picked out a few years ago, the one that fell down and broke half my ornaments. We’ve had bigger, he retorted. Remember the Emily Street house? I didn’t answer. That house had vaulted ceilings, and the sky was literally the limit when it came to picking a tree.
Thankful for South Dakota

Driving west toward Rapid City
Recently, I was traveling when someone asked me a question that took me by surprise: have you thought about moving? I’ve had plenty of time to think about the question, and I’m ready to answer it. Never mind it’s been weeks.
I wish I could say I was one of those glib people who can respond to the unexpected with a funny one-liner or an instant shutdown. I am not. I’m more likely to stutter or, worse yet, say nothing at all. I can’t remember if or how I answered the question, but I do recall saying something about Minneapolis, as if proximity to a big city justified my location. (Actually, Omaha would have been a better answer; it’s just two hours away.)
Halloween
I love October, mainly because of Halloween. I’m sure lots of mystery buffs get excited about the holiday, and I’m no exception. Though I’m not buying a ticket to the movie It anytime soon, I will be watching It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown with my kids. Recently, we went to the pumpkin patch, and I got to repeat my favorite line from the show: “Nothing but sincerity for as far as the eye can see.” The kids rolled their eyes. They know mom geeks out this time of year.
Book Launch–with Pictures!
Last Friday, Passport to Murder, the second book in my Prof. Prather Mystery series, launched. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since book one was published. The time has flown by. Immersed in the world of Copper Bluff, I’ve been living the dream I’ve had since I was a young girl: to write.
The crazy thing is I didn’t feel as if I had permission to write until I had a writing contract. Someone says you can write, so now you do. If only writers didn’t need permission, I wonder how many others would come forward. How many, like the women of Tillie Olsen’s Silences, remain unheard? Olsen reminds us, “We must not speak of women writers in our century […] without speaking also of the invisible, the as-innately-capable; the born to wrong circumstances—diminished, excluded, foundered, silenced” (39).
Goodbye, Pool! Back to School
Six days until my kids go back to school, but who’s counting. I love this back-to-school time—and not just because my daughters have been bickering for the last two weeks. I get geeked out about school supplies, planners, and generally anything with the word Crayola on it.
The Grand Canyon: A Majestic Mystery
I like to buy books when I travel—books and awkward-sized souvenirs that my husband has to figure out how to transport home. Try as I might, however, I couldn’t talk him into buying a siesta man statue when we went to Arizona last week. At twenty pounds, it was just too heavy. But I did purchase four new books.
Mysteries in the Midwest: The Bullock Hotel
When I recently had an opportunity to sponsor a ghost tour at the Bullock Hotel in Deadwood, South Dakota, of course I said yes. It was for Wild Deadwood Reads, a writing conference in my home state. As a mystery author, I’m intrigued by ghost tours. Any event that might turn spooky always gets my attention. Besides, I like old hotels. My husband cringes when I say “bed” and “breakfast” in the same breath because I like eating with strangers in rickety old houses. Luckily for him, we stayed down the street at a chain hotel that had a continental breakfast. We would just be taking the one-hour tour.