In the autumn of 2024, I had written a few short stories and sent a couple off to magazines, and filed some for future books or essays. I was ready to write another book, but about what? I had many ideas. I thought at first about writing a book of short stories, which is still on the back burner.

But in the back of my mind, I always wanted to write fiction. A story based on my wild imagination, making it up as I went along, and not being hindered by facts and memories that I had to stay true to. Nothing wrong with this. I love memoirs, writing them and hearing about the lives of others. But I wanted to step out of my comfort zone and write about something I had never attempted before. In a different genre. So, what to write about? I always loved Agatha Christie books. Her storytelling and mysteries. Her books were so well written and executed that I would devour them in no time. But could I write a story of mystery, murder and suspense? Could I come even close? I certainly was not in the same league as Agatha in writing abilities, but I wasn’t trying to compete with her – just write a decent story about murder and intrigue, a whodunnit!

I thought, how difficult can that be? Writing a story about a murder and putting in a few twists and turns along the way, keeping the reader engaged, and ending with a cinematic twist of who killed who.

It proved to be astronomically more difficult than I could ever imagine. I had no story to go by, no memories, experiences, innuendos, fibs or half-truths. I had to use my imagination to its potential, develop characters who were believable, a plot so enticing, tales so dark and captivating, it would leave the reader wanting more. So, I sat down and wrote out a few plots, some characters, various ideas for who the villain was, and, more importantly, why? And did he or she get away with the murder? Who were the victims? Where would it take place? Over the next few months, I read ass many books as I could on murder mystery, including re-reading many of Agatha Christie’s books, watched umpteen movies on YouTube and Netflix on the genre, googled until late in the night how to write a good mystery plot, what characters worked best, and about writing style, although Mrs. Christie gave me some of the best clues, no pun intended. In the end, I drafted my own plot and characters, with one or two changing or developing along the way. Once I had the plot roughly worked out, I drafted the first and last chapter, and stayed true to the beginning and end as the book unfolded. The belly of the book, so to speak, kept changing as the plot took form, and it was a matter of not revealing too much but keeping the reader turning the pages as I moved the story along. By the middle of June 2025, I huddled down to finish the first draft, although it was almost there. I chose this time in my life to write it because I was in one place for much of the summer, which was an unusual circumstance. I also knew myself all too well that if I stopped at any point, I would probably put it on the back burner, maybe indefinitely. So, being retired, with no partner, no other commitments in the foreseeable future, I began my day scheduling my other mundane chores and activities around writing my novel. My best time to write, and has always been, was after I finished my chores, had prepared my meals for the day, fed my kitties and made sure they were comfortable, did my shopping or any other stuff I had to do, then usually by 11 or noon, I was ready to buckle down. I often wrote, or researched, or read for the afternoon, taking a short break around 5 pm, and wrote again until 10 or 11 pm, or later. I rarely went to bed before 1 am, and awoke by 7 or 7:30 am, often writing six days a week, sometimes seven. I still found time to swim, walk on the beach, paint, and socialise.

By September, after a third edit, I passed the manuscript on to beta readers, finished the book cover, found a title, finished the prognosis and layout of the book (with Dan Costinas’s help), it was ready for publication in the middle of October. I did change the layout again in January.

A few curious souls asked how I could write a novel in four months, but one needs to look at the amount of time I put into it, and the fact that this was my third book. Given that I dedicated between forty to sixty hours per week writing the book, I would say that’s a long time, or maybe about right. I also had my own writing style figured out by then and some writing skills under my belt. I also knew how to be more disciplined in my writing, how to research more quickly, where to look for inspirations and ideas from other authors and the literary world. It was very hard work. Any writer would say this, but being condensed into a relatively short period of time was more pressure. I was both relieved and proud of what I had written. I truly poured my heart and soul into it and made ….. many sacrifices along the way.

What’s next? Maybe a sequel, or short stories, or a children’s book.

Follow me to see! We’re all good stories in the end. Just make it a good one. eh? Junebug.