Daily Archives: August 29, 2014

On Being a Mystery Writer

On Being a Mystery Writer


You are the type of person that installs monitoring equipment in your house and that taps telephones so that if one wanted to make a call in private, he or she would have to go elsewhere.  Che palle! 

Imagine you are a pseudo-detective gone undercover to inspect the same source of information every day to attempt to figure out clues and to glean information about a puzzle you are trying to fit together.  Your quest to reconnoiter is fed by your daily obsession with one source of information that you know, in your gut, has been feeding you the real facts that you seek.

Meanwhile….basically, your life sucks, but you don’t want anyone to know how much.  You plaster the Internet with old, misleading pictures that were taken before things took a nose dive …..before the truth was openly revealed.  You write false statements about happiness that you clearly do not experience.  You pour your energy into searching..searching…searching for answers that you already know in your gut. 

You are one determined, angry little hornet detective!

Then imagine that because something unbeknownst to you transpired, your primary source of information suddenly changed to reflect absolutely nothing that would be of any use to you in your quest …ever again.

That is what has happened here.

The circus tent has collapsed.


I am happy and secure. (That’s all the clue you’ll ever get.)

license plate guitar

I have everything I need.

Last reference.


Loss of a Childhood Friend


Sandy was my closest and dearest friend when I was a child.  We drifted apart in high school and never really stayed in touch after that, as our lives took two distinctly different directions.  Even so, I was greatly saddened to learn of her death this morning.  She leaves behind many people that love her.


We used to ride horses together, to swim, go to movies and attend slumber parties with our ‘gang’ of giggling girl friends.  We practiced cutting one each other’s hair, often making big messes of it all.  We discovered the Beatles together and spent countless hours talking about them and listening to their music. 

The first true love of my life was her uncle Billy, and I think I loved him as much as I did because his disposition was so much like hers…gentle and sweet.  Her dad’s was, too.  I really loved these people back then.

So today, I shed a tear for my old friend, even though at the time of her death, I no longer really knew her.  I embrace her family with love and I remember the good times with great fondness.  

So long, Goosie.