First a word to the wise.  If you’re going to send me an email, one you actually would like me to read, don’t begin by saying, “I hope you are doing well.” That’s the way all the spam emails start—the ones from The Great Plains Book Club, The involved Readers Book Club, and countless other equally bogus book clubs.  Two of those so far today, but it’s early hours.  There will most likely be more, but the point is, I don’t get past that first sentence on those without hitting the delete button.  

But for real emails?  They come in, I read them, I answer them, and I keep them. I’ve just reviewed my correspondence with a lady named Chris. Her last name has been redacted to protect the innocent. She formerly lived in Louisiana but now lives in Maryland. My first correspondence with her occurred back in 2014 where we were sorting out her then-current location. Later we went through a series of notes back and forth about autographed bookmarks.  (Sorry I’m no longer doing those.)

As I was reading through one of her notes from 2020, here’s what she said:  “If you want to kill off another character, how about Marliss?  LOL –  The character we love to hate!  I think it would be interesting to see how Joanna would handle a homicide investigation of someone she dislikes.  Would Joanna have to force herself to care, and to be professional and do her best work?  Plus, Marliss would probably have made lots of enemies.  Then again, you’d have to bring another busybody to Bisbee.  Just a thought.”

Did that suggestion from her rattle around in my subconscious for the next five years until Marliss ended up biting the dust in The Girl From Devil’s Lake?  At the time I wrote that scene in the book I could have sworn that was all my idea, but maybe not.

This year I learned she had a daughter who wants to be a writer and who also was expecting a baby.  It occurs to me that her writing will end up having to wait a year or so or maybe more. She also sent me a recipe for ginger snaps which I have yet to try making, but which sound delicious.

I also learned that she’s a member of a book club.  I’ve never belonged to one of those. I’ve spoken at a few over the years. The ones I visited to focus their attention on literary fiction which, as Tony Hillerman told me once, is where nothing much happens to people you don’t like very much.  I write books to tell stories. I’m not interested in the symbolism involved. On occasion, what someone else might see as symbolism is just me finding a way to complete the chapter I’m currently battling.

But as I said, Chris does belong to a book club, and this year when it was her turn to host, instead of asking members to read a single book, she suggested that they choose whichever one of my books they wanted to read.  And that’s the photo that’s featured here—Chris’s book club have just finished discussing any number of my books.

It turns out that a few of the members had heard of my books before, but most hadn’t.  As a result Chris did me the favor of introducing my books to a whole new group of readers, and believe me readers, both old and new, are my bread and butter.

So thank you Chris Nolastname.  I hope your book club members are still reading!