That’s weird, I know. I can’t listen to music because it makes me want to dance or transports me to somewhere else, but I also don’t work well in silence. I used to, but after living in a construction zone for months as my house was being put back together after the CZU fire in 2020 and having compressors, hammers, and saws around me all day, I lost the ability to write when it’s quiet.

There is an unexpected consequence to writing to talk, though. I just released book six in my PIP Inc. Mysteries series, “What Lucy Heard,” and as I was reading through it again in an attempt to keep from embarrassing myself when  the editor saw it, I noticed it had subtle references to this year’s big new stories that I must have heard as I listened and typed. Evidently, they found their way into my subconscious even as I thought I was ignoring what I heard and that it was just writing white noise.

The cover of the book features a Cybertruck. When I was deciding what sort of vehicle the accused murderer should drive, something which matters for the story, I picked a Cybertruck not only because it’s quiet but also because that vehicle was so prominent in the news in the days of Elon Musk.

At one point in the story my protagonist, Pat Pirard, the former Santa Cruz County Law Librarian who has become an unlicensed private investigator to keep her and her dalmatian, Dot, and her ginger tabby, Lord Peter Wimsey—yes, a definite nod to the famed Dorthy Sayers detective—housed and fed after she was downsized out of her job, is coyly asking a suspect if it’s possible to make a text message disappear to see what they know. Her suspect says it’s easy if you use something like Signal to do it. I came up with that particular app after the news was all about a reporter accidently being included in a hi-level phone conversation he shouldn’t have heard and that a feature of the app was that conversations could be made to disappear.

The murder victim was a serial philanderer which gave me many suspects to play with since there were numerous people who had reason to want him dead. If that storyline is reminiscent of recent headlines, it’s probably not a coincidence. And the book ends with the protagonist asking her husband what will happen to the killer. He responds that rule of law must be followed or we have nothing, also a topic in the news today.

Editing is finished and the book was released on August 15^th so any new current events and news stories will have to wait until the next book to make it to my pages.

I’m preparing to read it aloud in serial form to a group called Well Connected starting on September 9^th. You have to sign up to join, but listening is free if you are over sixty.  I love doing live readings and have read all my books to that group. Here’s the link to sign up if you want to listen in to “What Lucy Heard.” https://frontporch.net/ connect/well-connected/ I hope you’ll join me.

I’m new here and decided it would be fun to introduce myself by telling you a tale about a writing coincidence I had some years ago that still gives me chills.

For the fourth book in my first series, Regan McHenry Real Estate Mysteries, I needed help with a murder I had in mind. The premise for the Widow’s Walk League is that the husbands of women in a ladies’ walking group are being murdered one by one. I wanted to kill off one of the husbands at Woodies on the Wharf, an annual event in Santa Cruz where I live.

I had an idea about how he should meet his end, but I wasn’t sure if it was feasible so I contacted the president of the local woodies club to ask for advice. I presented my idea for how the victim should die and, once he was convinced that I was writing fiction and not a murderer plotting a real killing, he was eager to help.

 We met for coffee. I came armed with questions; he brought diagrams, photos, and a wrench. He not only explained how easy it would be to use a wrench on the undercarriage of the car to reverse the transmission, he had a photo of the make, model, and year of the woodie to use and told me where it should be parked on the wharf so my victim would plunge into the bay and sink to the bottom so quickly, he wouldn’t be able to escape the vehicle.

Now for the shivery part. A recuring character in the series is a police officer named Dave. He’s my protagonist’s buddy—you have to have some law enforcement connection in a cozy mystery—who has talked himself into a job as the police department ombudsman after losing an eye in a shootout. He’s based on a real friend also named Dave who lost his eye in a shootout while on duty. Remember that for a minute.

The book came out a week before Woodies on the Wharf so I decided to take a copy to the helpful woodies club president. I also decided it would be fun to see who was parked in the deadly parking space and tell him to be careful because things hadn’t worked out well for the last man who parked there.

As we introduced ourselves, I noted that he had the same first name as my murder victim. When I jested about being careful, he said nothing scared him because he was a retired homicide detective and had seen it all.

“Where did you work?” I asked.

“San Jose,” he replied.

“One of the characters in my book is based on a real police officer who worked for SJPD until he lost an eye in a shootout,” I said.

He snorted, “You must mean Dave. I was with him the night that happened. I told him you never  pop your head up to look over a fence when pursuing an armed suspect, but he didn’t listen to me.”

Writing is so much fun, and when things like this happen, it’s even more entertaining.