At last, she did it! The roving reporter caught up with me. She asked probing questions and I did my best to provide interesting answers.
Roving Reporter: Tell me, please, what led up to your becoming a writer of mysteries? I mean, well, no offense, but just looking at you, you are sort of the grandmotherly type and I’d think if you were going to write, you would write children’s stories or thoughtful essays on the meaning of life or perhaps a column on tips for being a good homemaker or…if you’ll pardon me, you look sort of like a retired kindergarten teacher.
Me: Young lady, have you never heard you can’t judge a book by its cover?
RR : Go on, ‘fess up. Do you write mysteries because beneath that calm exterior, beats a heart of ferocious intent and a mind bent on vengeance?
Me: Hmmm. Could be.
RR. I’m waiting.
Me: Oh, you asked how this all got started, my desire to write mysteries. Well, it all began long ago in a small log cabin back in the big woods.
RR: Are we talking about you or Laura Ingalls Wilder?
Me: I get caught up in the telling. Anyway, with all those woods lurking around me, filled with wild animals and who knows what else, how could I do anything else but write?
RR: You were afraid to venture out of the door, so you stayed inside and grabbed a pencil?
Me: With no electricity…
RR: No electricity? Come on, now!
Me: And candles have a tendency to cast shadows on the wall and I was a child with quite an imagination.
RR: No kidding!
Me: Okay, I’ll just tell you flat out. I have a sincere and earnest yearning to see justice done, wrongs righted, and the downtrodden vindicated.
RR: Do you also have a horse named Silver and a friend called Tonto?
Me: And, in the old days, my hearing was acute, my eyesight keen, and…did I mention I have a fertile imagination?
RR: Uh-huh.
Me: And then, in teaching, I had ample opportunity to hear mighty interesting stories, some unsolved mysteries, and…well, the classroom itself can be sort of a mystery .
RR: So, did you turn to writing out of an unfulfilled need of some sort, a yearning to live in an imaginary world because you found the real world unsavory?
Me: I’ve never found the real world unsavory! Well, except maybe on a few rare occasions. People, now? Yes, I’ve met a few unsavory ones but in the Darcy and Flora books I write, those two ladies have grit and a determination to see justice done, wrongs righted, and the downtrodden vindicated. I think I’ve mentioned that? Same for the Ned McNeil books.
RR: I understand Darcy and Flora could not solve even one mystery if they were not fortified regularly by steaming cups of hot coffee.
Me: You’re right. I smell some of that delicious brew now and I think it is percolated. Care to stay for a cup?
RR: You got it!
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