I’ve been staring at the computer screen for hours (okay, 12 minutes), trying to think of what comes next in this Christian novel I’m working on and…I feel the sudden urge to switch back to mystery and kill somebody.

Decidedly unchristian, no?


I had this idea for a cozy kind of a novel, something you’d want to read in a sun-drenched, overstuffed chair, with a cup of tea and cookies by your side (and perhaps, a furry creature snoozing beside you and gently warming your toes), and I wanted to do a faith-based book because I liked the challenge of a new genre…but as I sit here, alternately staring a the screen and trying to prevent Gus from destroying my printer, I can’t help but wonder: is this the book that will finally do me in?