I was in grade school when I started writing my own stories. My first was about a middle-aged woman named Maggie. When she is driving behind a logging truck, one of the logs comes loose, lands on her car, and crushes her. I still remember how I felt after writing her final moments. I was filled with the exhilarating realization that I could do anything in a story. Even kill people! (Maybe it should have been clear at that moment that I was going to grow up to be a mystery writer.)

Another story was much less dark. It starred Herman, a six-foot-tall frog who loves peanut butter and sets off an adventure to find some. I decided my story would appeal to Roald Dahl, the author of my beloved Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. My father showed me the publisher’s address, printed on the copyright page, and said you could write to authors care of their publishers. So I sent off my story, carefully printed in pencil on wide-ruled paper, care of Dahl’s New York publisher.

Eventually it found its way to him in England. Fifty-two years ago this week, he sent me back this postcard.

But Dahl did so much more than that. He took my story with him to lunch with his editor, Kaye Webb. She also edited Puffin Post, a British children’s magazine. Webb contacted me and asked to publish it. In order to receive the issue with my story in it, my parents had to subscribe to the magazine. I remember them talking about how expensive it was. But they still did.

Even before the magazine came out, I already knew that I was a real writer. Because Roald Dahl had told me so.

In the decades since, I have mentored several young authors. Every time I encourage a young writer, I think of Roald Dahl—and how one small act of kindness helped make me a writer.

P.S. If you’d like to know more about Dahl, who was a very complicated man, I’d highly recommend the podcast The Secret World of Roald Dahl.

I am currently eating an elephant made up of the dozens of letters my dad sent home from WWII. He was in the Marines and wrote his parents every few days. Because both my parents are gone and I am the oldest, I ended up with them. Looking at them has always been daunting. There were probably interesting things in them, but whenever I pulled one out and read it, there was a lot of this: “The PX over here has all kind of candies, potted meat, crackers, and pork and beans you care to buy. We can now even get some coke.”

This month I decided that every day I will type up one letter on my computer. It takes ten minutes or less, but eventually I will have eaten the elephant. When I’m done, I’ll share the results with my siblings.

And one of the first letters I pulled out filled me with surprise. When I initially confessed I wanted to be a writer around 1990, my dad gave me his 1942 copy of Characters Make Your Story, mentioning in an offhand tone that he had once thought of being a writer. What I didn’t know was that, at twenty-one, he actually was one.

Plotto! I actually own a copy! It went out of print during WWII, and was reissued in 2011 by Tinhouse Books.

Plotto: The Master Book of All Plots is a massive 1928 plot-generation manual created by pulp fiction author William Wallace Cook (1867-1933). Calling him “prolific” doesn’t do him justice. He was known as “the man who deforested Canada.” In 1910, he turned out more than a book a week. He wrote in the era’s popular genres: Westerns, adventure tales, and mysteries. No matter the genre, they were all about 40,000 words, each consisting of sixteen five-page chapters. Cook said, “A writer is neither better nor worse than any other man who happens to be in trade. He is a manufacturer.” His memoir was called The Fiction Factory.

And like a manufacturer, Cook developed a system for creating stories, built on the core philosophy that “Purpose, opposed by Obstacle, yields Conflict.” According to Plotto, there were 1,462 plots.

When the book was reissued, NPR said:

Plotto looks like an algebra book at first: Protagonists A and B, and their numerically designated friends, rivals, and relatives all combine and compete in pursuit of love, money, success, and sometimes even a mysterious item X.

Each plot is cross-referenced with other plots that combine well with it. For example, here’s plot 1,258: “B, a woman criminal arrested by A-6, a detective, seeks to effect her escape by artful strategy.”

Cook notes that this can be preceded by plots 448 and 1,309b, and followed by 3b, 10a, and 16a—which involves A-6 finally catching up to B, but then falling in love with her.

A young Alfred Hitchcock, just getting started as a silent film director, sent away for a copy. Erle Stanley Gardner, who wrote the Perry Mason books, said that he basically learned about plotting from Plotto.

So is Plotto the 1928 version of Chat GPT? No, because it’s simply prompts that could jump start a writer’s imagination. Would Cook have used Chat GPT if he could? I’m guessing yes. Writing a book a week means he was aiming for quantity, not quality.

Using prompts to coax out a story

Like my dad, I have used prompts to help me write. In the mid 1990s, I bought a book called Plots Unlimited. I would page through it and use the scenarios as jumping off points. For example, if I read: “Jack, believing he loves Carol, changes his mind when he discovers a revealing truth about her,” I would ask myself if there was some truth one of my characters could learn about another character that would change their feelings.

After getting Plotto nearly 20 years later, I realized Plots Unlimited, which makes no mention of Plotto, is clearly mostly Plotto, just modernized.

For a fun book that uses some of the ideas of Plotto, check out The Amazing Story Generator.

Looking for free writing prompts with a similar “take one from column A/B/C” setup? Check out my free story starters.

What happened to Dad’s novel(s)?

As a TV reporter, Dad wrote all his own copy. He was a 70-word two-fingered typist. After he retired from TV, he had a newspaper column called Over the Back Fence. He wrote a memoir for us kids, which was a marvelous gift from our normally taciturn father.

I have dozens and dozens of letters left to type up. Maybe I’ll find a chapter of that lost novel. Maybe I’ll learn if he ever got a publisher interested. Maybe I’ll find out more about his parents, who were around 80 when I was born.

No matter what, I suspect that this elephant is going to turn out to contain a few more interesting bites.

After my last newsletter about growing up food insecure, I heard from so many of you about your childhoods. One even had to dumpster dive for food as a child. (Writing that newsletter helped me be strong enough to toss food and spices that expired the previous decade. Even though I knew I would never use them, it was still a struggle.)

Another reader told me she still feels the echoes of growing up with only two pairs of pants. Man, did that set off echoes.

My mom used to ask her friends who had older daughters if they had any outgrown clothes I could have. (I was the oldest, so there were no hand-me-downs for me.) One of these women went to our church. Her daughter, T, was two years older than me. I still remember being cornered on the playground by T. She pointed at me and said with a sneer, “That used to be my dress, but my mom gave it to your mom because you’re poor.” The shame of it still makes me feel small, nearly 60 years later.

The shoes on your feet

Each year, we got one pair of shoes to wear, plus one cheap pair of tennis shoes for PE. All my memories of shoes make me cringe. One pair from Kinney’s had plastic heels. When the bottoms of the heels wore off, I was left literally clopping down the hall at school. Boys started calling me Pony.

The white PE shoes quickly got dirty. But they were so cheaply made my mom wouldn’t risk washing them. Instead she had me apply white shoe polish every weekend. One day in gym a long strip peeled off onto the waxed wooden floor. People pointed at this six-inch curl of what was basically paint and wondered aloud what it was.

I pointed and asked, too.

And pair after pair developed holes in the soles. I kept out the dirt by stuffing them with library checkout cards. Later, when I worked at a library, I realized how annoying that must have been for the librarians.

Desperate to fit in

New clothes were for back-to-school and Christmas. One September my parents didn’t have the money. But I knew they still planned to tithe. I told them it wasn’t fair to give ten percent to the church when we only had outgrown clothes to wear. I guilted them into switching priorities, and then triumphantly bought a pair of brown cords with zippers running down the center of each leg, from waist to hem. (Of course, seventh grade boys being seventh grade boys, I had to safety pin the tops so they didn’t unzip them.)

As soon as I was old enough, I started babysitting so I could buy my own clothes. I also learned to sew. With my first official paycheck from my first job at 16, I bought a pair of red-stripe Adidas, which everyone knew were the second least expensive. It was a point of pride that I didn’t buy the cheapest.

Dopamine hits

Lately I’ve found myself lingering over online sales. “The more you buy, the more you save!” Another of my childhood ghosts reappearing.

I’ve heard it called doom shopping. You can’t control anything, but you can still buy stuff! Just another way to self-soothe in response to stress. One thing that’s helping me is to add things I am tempted to buy to a list. It only takes a day or two for the urge to pass.

Slowly, slowly, I’m trying to get away from all these unhealthy habits that took root decades ago. I don’t need new clothes. My freezer is over-filled. If I buy Savory Squares at Trader Joes I will eat all of them in one sitting, stuffing them in without even tasting them.

If I feel scared or angry, I’m trying to name the feeling and live with it for a moment. Sometimes that means sitting still for a few minutes, breathing slowly. Or observing any physical sensations, like a racing heart, but from a bit of a distance. Sometimes it means a quick journal entry. Sometimes it’s a prayer.

What helps you when you want to do something that’s unhealthy?

Reading: one healthy habit from childhood

Have you read The Correspondent yet? I stayed up past midnight to finish it (something I rarely do), and I actually cried (something that’s almost unheard of). My only regret was that my mom isn’t alive to recommend it to.

And in book-ish news

Today only, July 30, the ebook of In the Blood is on special for just $2.99 (regularly $12.99).

DNA for health: discovering I’m abnormal

I had my DNA tested decades ago, after a family member was diagnosed with extra DNA known as a small supernumerary marker chromosome (sSMC). About 70% of sSMC carriers are developmentally normal, while the remaining 30% have health problems ranging from mild to severe. Genealogists ultimately decided we were in the lucky 70%. Still, it’s strange to see your DNA report labelling you an “abnormal female.”

DNA for family trees: Martha’s past is no longer a secret

DNA can also help you build your family tree on services like Ancestry. DNA results from me and my siblings helped me identify my great-grandmother’s family.

To maximize the change of finding relatives, I submitted my DNA to Ancestry, MyHeritage, and 23andMe. None of those companies told me about my sSMC. Why? Direct-to-consumer DNA tests aren’t held to the same medical standards as clinical testing, meaning they don’t have to report even possibly medically significant findings.

DNA for crime solving

As we know from any cop show, DNA can solve crimes. The DNA in the CODIS database, the Combined DNA Index System, comes primarily from convicted offenders. CODIS doesn’t have full DNA profiles, just STRs, which are repeating sequences of “non-coding” DNA. (Non-coding means they don’t reveal traits or diseases.) STRs are very accurate for making direct, one-to-one matches to identify individuals, but cannot identify family relationships.

DNA for investigative genetic genealogy

But what if you hit a dead-end in CODIS? Investigators might extract a fresh DNA sample from the original evidence, and then upload it to a public genealogy database that allows law enforcement access, like GedMatch or FamilyTreeDNA.

The database identifies distant relatives who share matching blocks of DNA. By building a family tree backward, a genetic genealogist can identify the common ancestor shared by the person who left DNA at the crime scene and the distant relative in the database. Using public records and other family trees, they figure out who it might be. This is how the Golden State Killer was identified.

Once the tree points to a suspect, investigators must discreetly obtain a fresh DNA sample from that person (such as from a discarded coffee cup). They run a STR test on that sample and compare it directly to the original crime scene evidence. An arrest is only made if there is an exact STR match.

However, many popular genealogy sites—like Ancestry, 23andMe, and MyHeritage—don’t allow law enforcement searches. (I had to stop watching the reboot of Presumed Innocent after the fictional detective claimed the suspect was foolish to upload his DNA to Ancestry because then law enforcement could access it. Nope!)

FamilyTreeDNA does allow law enforcement access. And GEDMatch only allows law enforcement to use GEDMatch PRO, which costs $1000 a profile, and only searches profiles that have opted in to law enforcement use. (In January 2021, GEDMatch changed its terms of service to opt everyone in for searches involving unidentified human remains.)

Bryan Kohberger: desperate times call for desperate measures?

In the past, genealogists working with police have provided AncestryDNA testing kits to people they think are relatives of suspects—known as “target testing”—or asked customers for access to preexisting accounts so they could see the off-limits data. And there was a secret backdoor at GEDMatch that allowed investigators to break the terms of service and access the full database, not just those who had opted in.

When Bryan Kohberger murdered four college students in Idaho, he left behind a knife sheath with male DNA on the snap. But the databases the FBI were allowed to access (GEDMatch PRO and FamilyTreeDNA) only yielded low percentage matches.

So, posing as ordinary users, the FBI uploaded the profile to two places they weren’t supposed to: the full GedMatch (which includes those who have not opted into law enforcement use) and MyHeritage. That quickly led them to Kohberger.

But there has been fallout. Now MyHeritage no longer allows users to upload profiles from other services. And Ancestry has revised its terms to make it clear that its services are off-limits “for law enforcement purposes” or “judicial proceedings” without a legal order, which is very difficult to get.

A potentially bigger consequence is that now investigators who were building family trees using Ancestry’s collection of information (family trees as well as census, marriage, and death records) are no longer supposed to be using even those parts of Ancestry. It had been a one-stop source that helped solve hundreds of cases.

Crossing paths with experts

Genetic genealogy is key to my latest book, In the Blood.

Because of my fascination with genetic genealogy, over the years I’ve crossed paths with many of the well-known experts in the field.

One is CeCe Moore, the genetic genealogy expert for Finding Your Roots and the head of Parabon NanoLabs’s genetic genealogical unit. She got her start using genetic genealogy to help adoptees find their biological parents, then used the same methods to put names to unidentified dead bodies, and then eventually to solve crimes.

In 2019, I met CeCe at a conference held by the Pacific Northwest Division of the International Association for Identification. I was the only civilian in the room, and also the only person who asked questions. Cece has spoken favorably about how DNA was used to identify Kohberger.

During the pandemic, I volunteered with the DNA Doe Project, which uses DNA to put names to unidentified bodies. Margaret Press, co-founder of the DNA Doe Project, issued a public apology for taking advantage of the security flaw in the GEDmatch database to view DNA profiles of users who had not opted into forensic testing.

And when I was writing In the Blood, I reached out to Leah Larkin, PhD, who created the blog The DNA Geek. She helped me make Tessa’s search for her birth parents more difficult. Leah was also part of Kohberger’s defense team, which argued that access to the sites without a warrant violated his constitutional rights. The judge in the case rejected the argument. Leah has been passionate about the need for law enforcement to follow the rules, and argues that not doing so is a slippery slope.

I can honestly see both sides. Catching a murderer is a powerful argument for stretching the rules. But our DNA holds intensely private information, and we should get to decide who we share it with. And should law enforcement be allowed to choose which rules to follow and which to discard?

Where would you draw the line?

So much of our lives, we want to be independent. First, we want to be free from our parents’ supervision. Now I feel nostalgic for a time when someone else was in charge.

When our kids are little and needy, we might fantasize about what it will be like when they’re independent. Then they grow up, maybe move away, and we wish we could have that time back.

My childhood still echoes

A number of things have made me anxious lately. Global conflict, climate change, threats to democracy, close friends with health issues. And when I get anxious, the echoes of my childhood come back to haunt me.

I grew up poor. My parents did as well, as did their parents. My siblings and I qualified for free or reduced lunch at school, but my parents were too proud to accept that.

Bare cupboards

I grew up drinking powdered milk because it was cheaper than fresh. I always volunteered to shake the mix with water. No matter how much you shook, there were still chewy bubbles of unmixed dried milk.

My family’s fridge had whole shelves that were bare. I have no memories of eating salads or fresh fruits at home. In the cupboard, a single shelf held a half dozen cans—all things we would use that week.

A single can of tuna made a dinner that fed five people. If there were any seconds, us kids got them. We ate a lot of potatoes, noodles, casseroles, and breakfast for dinner. There were never any leftovers. (Never, ever.) When I was in college, I made a quiche and left the remains in the pie plate on the counter. On day three, I realized it was moldy. I literally hadn’t known that could happen.

Those empty shelves disappeared decades ago. The anxiety didn’t.

So what happens when you grow up with what would now be called “food insecurity”? Well, if you’re me, the cupboards, fridge, and extra freezer downstairs are stuffed. Lately I’ve discovered that my local Safeway sells discontinued food for fifty percent off. (Food and sale! The two sweetest words combined.) Unusual ramen, truffle-flavored broccoli, a dented carton of ice cream—it’s all come home with me. When I realized it was getting ridiculous, I started focusing on actually eating some of what’s in the freezer (and kept donating to the food bank). But when I use something from the freezer, I have to fight off anxiety. It’s gone.

Finding alternatives

I’m trying to find better ways to take care of myself.

Like baking something beautiful. I bought 18 pounds of pie cherries (we won’t fret about how the season is now a full month earlier), froze a lot for oatmeal (and struggled to shove them in the freezer), and made a pie with the rest (free link to the recipe).

Since I was old enough for chapter books, reading has meant both escape and comfort. Right now, I’m reading Lev Grossman’s The Bright Sword. It’s about “a motley group of oddball knights—and one sorceress—who are trying to rebuild Camelot in the wake of King Arthur’s death.” I started listening to the audio and immediately bought the e-book as well. Books like this made me be first a reader, and then a writer.

Maybe independence isn’t overcoming old anxieties, but figuring out healthier ways to deal with them.

Speaking of young readers finding joy ….

In the Blood

I love YALSA, the Young Adult Library Services Association. They are dedicated to strengthening library services and literacy programs for teens aged 12 to 18. In other words, they make readers! I was lucky enough to be featured on The Hub talking about In the Blood as well as tips for attracting reluctant readers.

June 7th was our 40th anniversary. We’re still going strong. (The Venn diagram of my husband’s and my interests does not overlap very much, but I like it like that. Plus, we agree on the important things: politics, how to treat other people, and our daughter.)

We did our wedding on the cheap. My wedding gown was a bridesmaid’s dress purchased in white. I made my actual bridesmaid’s dress. For my husband, we bought a pinstriped suit at a thrift store. Then we had to find someone to alter it, as the original owner had probably weighed 50 pounds more than he did. The seamstress was in over her head. At one point, when my husband went in for a fitting, the stripes were running on the diagonal. He was supposed to pick it up the morning of the wedding, but came back to the car empty-handed. He asked if I had any cash. She wanted more money and was holding the suit hostage until we paid up. Between the two of us, we came up with another $50 (about $150 in today’s money).

The wedding and reception took place in a local college hall. We scheduled it for 2 pm, so no one would expect a meal. For months, I made cookies and froze them. A few days before the wedding, I spent hours injecting Cointreau in strawberries and dipping them in chocolate. My husband used his grocery store employee discount to buy sparkling wine. For music, he made a mixtape. We couldn’t afford a photographer, so we asked our guests to take pictures and share them with us.

We’re still pretty frugal. Wanting to do something special to mark our anniversary, I spent a couple of years saving up points and miles. (Once we picked a destination, I also let many of the hotels know what we were celebrating, which netted us chocolates, champagne, and even rose petals.)

After reading this article about the Deutschland Ticket, we figured out how to piece together 3 of the 5 trips mentioned. One reason it appealed to me was that I attended the University of Stuttgart as an exchange student in 1981. There I quickly learned that my years of high school and college German had not actually left me fluent. The local dialect, Swabish, was especially troublesome.

To prepare, I spent a year practicing German with Duolingo. There were times it was still a struggle. It’s all too easy to get stuck internally debating if you should use the subjective tense (“Can we” versus “Could we”) rather than just jumping in with both feet.

That felt familiar. Right now, I’m starting a new book, but I sometimes spend too much time frozen, internally debating possibilities, when I could simply be writing and seeing where the story takes me.

June doesn’t just mark our anniversary. Today is also our daughter’s birthday. Being a mother changed me in fundamental ways. It made me kinder and softer.

When I still had a day job, everyone in my department took Myers-Briggs tests. Myers-Briggs is viewed by some as pseudo-science, but it helped me better understand and accept my coworkers. Before I was a mom, I tested as an ENTJ, which is often shorthanded as “commander” (ouch!), a type that is known for being “ruthless” and “intense.” A couple of years after becoming a mom, I retested and came out as ENFJ, or “protagonist,” someone who is “thoughtful” and “idealistic.”

Now I use Myers-Briggs to help create characters. If you’re a writer, try figuring out what Myers-Briggs type your character would be. Then research what would bother that type most. (For example, here’s a list of what would bother an ENTJ.) Your goal is to make your character deal with as many of those situations as possible. A frustrated character is an interesting character.

June is also important an important month in my dozen years doing Brazilian jiu-jitsu. It was June when I got my first stripe as a white belt. I was so excited that when I walked outside the gym I insisted on showing it off to a woman walking her dog. (Spoiler alert: she didn’t care.)

Four years later, I got a blue belt, after testing once and failing. That first test was tough. At a certain point, I realized there was no way I was getting a blue belt, but I had to keep trying anyway. Being a writer has helped me learn to try, fail, and try again.

This June, I’m trying to remember the things I’ve learned in my 67 Junes. Whether it’s a marriage that started in a ransomed thrift-store suit, struggling to make myself understood, becoming a mom, writing a book, or earning a blue belt in jiu-jitsu, I’ve learned you never get everything right the first time. The rewards come from showing up, making mistakes, and continuing anyway.

Free audiobook of In The Blood

I have five codes to give away for a free audiobook of In the Blood. Reply to this email or comment on my Substack if you would like one. If there are more than five requests, I’ll use a random number generator to pick five.

And if there’s something you would like me to talk about in a future newsletter, just let me know.

And with an eye on our 40th wedding anniversary, I’ve been stockpiling all those airline miles I’ve accumulated along the way. When you read this, my husband and I will be in Germany.

I wanted to share what makes my life on the road better. (I’ve included links, but they are not affiliate links and no one is sponsoring this post. These are just things I use and like.)

Handy things

• tweezers

• fingernail clippers

• empty baggie

• rubberband

• a multi-charger like this one allows me to maximize outlets.

Things that could save you

• Anti-diarrhea drugs (tip of the hat to author David Lubar for this suggestion— IYKYK)

• A zippered tote that packs down small (perfect for grocery shopping or if you acquire more stuff)

• An oversized safety pin

Things to pack

• An extra top, pair of underwear, and pair of socks. When a blizzard strands you in South Dakota, you won’t feel totally gross the next day.

• Rash guards don’t wrinkle, squish down small, and can be worn as regular tops.

  

• My favorite compression socks. They don’t dig in at the top like other brands.

• Wool T-shirts. If you hang them to air out, they can be worn several times.

• If you don’t mind used (or “pre-loved”) clothes (and not everything on eBay, ThredUp, or Poshmark is used), look for shirts by “Elizabeth & Clarke” or “Mother Oxford.” The former got knocked out by the pandemic, when no one needed dressy shirts. No idea what happened to Mother Oxford. Both brands repel stains amazingly well. (I’m also pretty sure they’re treated with PFAS.)

• Ably T-shirts. (Supposed to be PFA free.) They repel odor and stains like crazy. You could wear one for a week straight, night and day, and it still wouldn’t smell. In a hot, humid climate, they’re not all that breathable. Nor do they look particularly dressy. Still, they are perfect for long vacations.

Color coordinate (and be willing to cram)

This bag is the secret to packing an unbelievable amount of stuff—if you don’t care about wrinkles or you’ll have an iron at your hotel. I have the 13-liter one. Target seems to be selling a knock-off, or to use a nicer term, a “dupe.”

The best hotel meal I ever invented

Wash a baking potato, let it dry, then pack it in your suitcase. Bring this or something similar that collapses down to serve as a plate. Pack Beecher’s cheddar cheese (sticks are great) and a small container of completely frozen guacamole. Guacamole can go through TSA if it’s 100% frozen (as can any liquid or even ice cream), not slushy at all. In your hotel room, microwave the potato and add the cheese and guacamole. This is better than 95% of the food you could have delivered or find in a restaurant near your hotel.

More food or food-related items

• Salt and pepper in a small baggie.

• Plastic utensils (so you don’t end up eating your Door Dash meal with a coffee stirrer, as I once did).

• Coffee gummies for when you need a jolt after five hours of broken sleep, and are in a state that only offers sweet tea after breakfast. The same company makes sleep gummies, one with melatonin and herbs, the other with only herbs.

• Baby carrots: nearly indestructible. I once carried the same bag through three states with only occasional stops in hotel mini-fridges. The carrots were still crunchy. And they can help when you feel an urge to anxiously eat something.

What I just read

I love books about writers and publishing. Six mid-list writers are brought to an isolated island only to learn a bestselling author is dead—and that they are competing to complete his book. This definitely has the “dwindling party” trope. I loved every minute.

I don’t know if this is true of all YA authors, but a significant proportion of the teens who reach out to me say they read my books because they need an escape. I hear from teens who are bullied, in foster care, hiding liquor bottles from alcoholic parents, or otherwise trying to get through situations adults should have protected them from. One girl survived something so bad I won’t even hint at it, because it might be google-able.

In all cases, I try to offer encouragement. A few I’ve kept in touch with for years.

(This past week I was also a keynote speaker at LibraryCon in Rock Hill, South Carolina. And I was featured on Nerd Daily.)

What if your biological parent was a killer?

I started thinking about the premise of In the Blood (an adopted teen finds out her biological father is a serial killer) after I read about Diane Downs’ daughter.

Diane Downs is notorious in Oregon. In 1983, she killed her daughter and attempted to murder her other two children. She then shot herself in the arm and drove very slowly to the hospital, where she claimed they had all been shot by a bushy-haired stranger who had tried to carjack her. The truth was that she was involved with a man who had no interest in being a father. (The two surviving children ended up being adopted by the prosecutor.)

Before she was convinced of murder, Downs got pregnant and the baby was put up for adoption. Years later, that daughter figured out who her mother was and went into a tailspin. If half your genes came from someone so evil , what does that mean you are?

In the process of writing the book, I also read:

• Shattered Silence: The Untold Story of a Serial Killer’s Daughter by Melissa Moore, the daughter of the “Happy Face Killer” Keith Jesperson.

• A Serial Killer’s Daughter: My Story of Faith, Love, and Overcoming (An Insider’s Look at the True Crime Story of the BTK Killer, Dennis Rader) by Kerri Rawson. Kerri’s memoir might be the most unsettling, because as a child she really loved her father.

• Raised by a Serial Killer: Discovering the Truth About My Father by April Balascio. April was actually the one who tipped off a detective to her suspicions.

Going the extra mile for research

When I was writing In the Blood, I trapped two characters in a storage unit and set the building on fire. The problem? I had absolutely no idea how they would get out.

At that point, a lot of our belongings were in a storage unit, so I could physically visit one. But I still couldn’t think of any way my characters could survive. Even though I planned to create an imaginary storage facility, I wanted the solution to be realistic.

This is where my habit of obsessive googling paid off. I found a group called Self-Storage Talk, which describes itself as “the largest and most active online community in the self-storage industry!” It took some persuasion, but I was allowed to join and pose my question. And so many facility owners chimed in! The most helpful was a user whose screen name was Hilltop Bob. When the book came out I sent him a book as a thank you and credited him in the acknowledgments.

6 ways to help an author without spending a dime

If book-buying isn’t in the budget at the moment, you can still support a book or author you’re excited about.

1. Request that your library order the book. My local library has a form online called “suggest a purchase.”

2. Put it on your “To read” shelf on GoodReads or StoryGraph. Tap “Notify me” on your e- or audiobook apps. This helps other people learn about the book. Once you’ve read it, review it!

3. Share on social media. Love it or hate it, social media still drives discovery. Posting feeds the algorithm, helps with cover recognition, and reaches people who don’t yet follow the writer. I post about books I like on Facebook, Instagram, BlueSky, Threads, and in this newsletter. For bonus points, follow the author on social media and share their posts (simply commenting or even clicking “like” will help boost visibility).

4. Share it IRL. Word of mouth is still book sales’ secret weapon. If you are excited about a book, tell your friends! And if there’s a book event, just come hang out. Nearly all book events are free.

5. Don’t steal the book. Please don’t pirate e-books or audiobooks. See option #1 instead.

6. For extra credit: Suggest an author you like for interviews and features (podcasts, YouTube, print/digital media, influencers, etc): “Hey, I love author X and their books are just like those on your show/magazine/channel.”

What I’ve been reading

Everything Changes Everything by Lauren Kessler. After the deaths of her husband and daughter, Lauren set out alone to walk the 500-mile long Camino de Santiago in Spain. An honest look at love and loss and figuring out how to go on.

I’m proud I’m still making it in this industry, 32 books in. You can always find people who have more, but look at what I have. So many people who started when I did are no longer publishing. When I was younger, I would diminish my accomplishments. I would focus on where I missed the mark. But at 67, I am proud.

And I think of nine-year-old me, with bangs her mom cut at home, wearing the dress the neighbor girl had outgrown (and who then mocked me for being poor), the girl who read a book a day. Nine-year-old me would be amazed!

When I speak at schools, one of my main messages is that you can be what you want, if you’re willing to work for it.

Like a book? Help an author out by leaving a review

The media landscape is fracturing. Supposedly there are only five full-time book reviewers left in the United States. But word of mouth still matters enormously.

If you enjoyed a book, consider leaving a quick review on Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, or Storygraph. Even something as simple as “Loved the characters!” or “Couldn’t put it down!” helps other readers discover it.

And yes—seeing lots of enthusiastic reviews makes people more likely to pick up a book.

Launch week whirlwind

In The Blood is out in the world. The week started with appearing on KGW’s Hello Rose City. (Click here to watch.)

One of the things I talked about with the host was my dad, Hank Henry, who was a DJ at KGW in the 1950s. The station, much to his discomfort, dubbed him “The Housewives’ Delight.” My dad was not a flirt and shied from attention. Staff at the station joked that it was possible one or two of the older lights dangling from the ceiling might have been there when Dad was.

This week has been a blur of adrenaline and gratitude.

• I answered questions at YA Books Central.

• My essay about how rejection can work both ways was published on SheWrites.

• Writer’s Digest featured my essay.

• I had my book launch at Powells.

• I was interviewed on the podcast Book Huddle.

• And today I’m featured at Bookstr.

Tessa isn’t me, but…

My main character, Tessa Lundgren, isn’t me. I’m not adopted, and my dad was definitely not a serial killer.

But I did make Tessa want to be a writer, the way I did. Like any writer, she is processing some of her thoughts and feelings through her stories.

As the book opens, Tessa is looking for her biological parents. And while she does, she’s also trying to write a story about what will happen if she succeeds.

Years ago, I took a writing class with a woman who was searching for the son she’d given up for adoption. She kept trying to write about their reunion, but could never finish the stories, too overwhelmed by the million ways things could go. In my book, Tessa experiences some of that uncertainty, but from the other side. (The real life story had a fairy tale ending. They had a great reunion. He asked about his dad. She hadn’t seen him since he went to Vietnam. She tracked him down, and they visited. And the two parents ended up getting married!)

Spoiler alert: what Tessa finds out is not as good.

Deal news

Have you ever wished that you could feel like a teenager again? Obsessing over what people think of you, certain everyone is staring at the zit on your chin, awkwardly trying to flirt, full of energy one minute and despair the next?

Well, now you can! All you need to do is put out a book in this crazy world. In the Blood publishes in five days, and I’m a nervous wreck. (These are the last few days for pre-order goodies from Annie Bloom’s.)

I finished writing the first draft of this book in December 2024. In the months in between, there have been multiple rounds of edits. Discussions about the cover. Finalizing plans for promotion. In a way, publication day is like a wedding. So many months of preparation. So many details. All for a day that goes by in a flash.

But at least with a book, even once the on-sale date has passed, there are still opportunities to celebrate. Speaking about it at schools. Talking about it at conferences (like the upcoming LibraryCon in South Carolina May 16). Crossing your fingers on the days they announce the finalists for the Oregon Book Awards or the Edgars Awards. Books can be named to state lists even a couple of years after they are first published.

I’m both excited and terrified that this book will finally be out there. To know I can’t change it, but also eager for people to read it.

There is always that little worry in the back of your head: what if this one doesn’t find its readers?

People are increasingly feeling a financial pinch. (I just drove past a gas station where regular was $5.70 a gallon.) Changes in the federal government mean that libraries that previously received funds from the Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS) or the Department Education might be out of luck.

And there’s the battle just to get teens to read. Daily reading for fun among 13-year-olds dropped from 27% in 2012 to 14% in 2023, while 35% of middle/high schoolers now report they dislike reading. This is why school libraries and school librarians are vital, as well as adults who model reading for pleasure. And it’s why I write the kind of books I do, books that hook even students who are convinced they are not readers.

Meet Tessa

Over the course of In The Blood, Tessa learns some very hard truths. To counteract that darkness I gave her two good friends, El and Victor (her lab partner who might be more than a friend). I gave her amazing adoptive parents. I even gave her an adoring little sister, Phoebe. Review after review has singled out these relationships.

Other book news

My novel inspired by an ill-fated literacy conference is on sale

Two Truths and a Lie is just $1.99 as an ebook on all platforms.

Stay Dead comes alive

Stay Dead had a fairly quiet reception when it came out in hardcover, but now that it’s in paperback, it’s been named to the Young Teen Lit’s Top 10, as well as appearing on many state lists:

• Texas Tayshas

• Maine’s North Star

• Georgia’s Tome list

• Indiana Young Hoosier

• Iowa Teen Book

• Missouri Gateway

• California Department of Education’s Recommended List

  

Sixteen-year-old Milan is the only survivor after a bomb tears off the wing of her senator mother’s jet. She must not only survive the snowy wilderness, but also outwit the assassin who is determined to make sure there are no survivors.

Sometimes the only way to live is to make the world think you’re dead.

For decades, I believed our old neighbors had a looted piece of history. I was wrong.

When I read that April 26 was World Pinhole Camera Day, I started thinking about my first book. It’s believed that the Vermeer used a camera obscura. (Pinhole cameras are a type of camera obscura.) His paintings contain elements we don’t see with the naked eye, but do in photographs, like out-of-focus highlights. They are called circles of confusion, which is why my first published book, about a long-lost Vermeer, was called Circles of Confusion.

The germ of the book began with a steamer trunk my parent’s neighbors bought at an unclaimed luggage sale at a train station sometime after World War II. When I heard the story two decades later, I learned that when they broke the lock on the trunk they found American military uniforms and lots of art. Some was framed, some was rolled up. One was a small painting on plaster, decorated with gold stars. Even I knew it was Napoleon.

When I went to college in the late 1970s, I showed the professor who taught my “Introduction to Art” the photographs my dad had taken of the painting. On the back was a stamp saying Borghese. The professor told me that the Borghese Gallery was a famous museum in Rome. From him, I learned that looters often cut paintings out of their frames to make them more portable. And painters, he told me, would sometimes create a smaller study in preparation for the final work. I imagined Napoleon posing, perhaps impatiently, while the painter got it right. Napoleon must have looked at this little painting. Maybe even touched it. As the years went by, I learned that Napoleon’s court painter was Jacques Louis-David.

This painting, stored in a closet in a Southern Oregon mobile home, was a looted piece of history!

Circles of Confusion is about a woman who inherits a painting after her great-aunt dies. When I started writing it, I did more research into looted art. This was before there was a widespread internet. I wrote letters, made phone calls, and consulted The Readers’ Guide to Periodical Literature at the library.

It wasn’t easy. (Now I can reach out to an expert in a few minutes via email.)

I interviewed a curator at the Portland Art Museum as well as an appraiser at Christie’s auction house. And I contacted the Art Loss Register, which attempts to reunite stolen artworks with their rightful owners. They got in touch with the Borghese Gallery, which said a lot of their records from World War II had been destroyed. They didn’t pursue it any further, and of course the painting wasn’t even mine to give back.

Along the way, I became fascinated by Vermeer and decided to make my fictional painting a long-lost Vermeer. It’s believed he painted at home, which is why the same objects (Turkish carpets, yellow jackets, chairs with lion’s head finials) show up over and over in his paintings. I even made my own “Vermeer” by making a collage of existing paintings.

As I wrote this newsletter, I googled that little painting of Napoleon again. I saw another small version that appraiser Elizabeth Stewart had valued. I reached out to her via email.

She answered right away. And I learned that everything I’ve thought for the past 30 years was wrong. Napoleon at Fontainebleau was painted by Paul Delaroche, not Jacques-Louis David. It was also painted two decades after Napoleon died. And that sticker on the back? The one that proved the painting had once belonged to the Borghese Gallery? I used Google Image Search and discussed it with Elizabeth. Borghese was also the name of an American company that reproduced mass-market art objects. You can find many of them on eBay.

So my fictional story turned out to be inspired by fiction!

Come see me in person

If you live in the Portland metro area, I’ll be at Powells Cedar Hills on May 12 at 7 pm to launch In the Blood. And then on May 16, I’ll be featured at LibraryCon in Rock Hill, South Carolina.

33 books in 33 years

My long-standing relationships with my agent, Wendy Schmalz, and my editor, Christy Ottaviano, were featured in Publishers Weekly.

DNA has completely changed crime solving. Initially, it was used to match criminals to the DNA they left behind. Then to identify unknown victims. And after adoptees started using DNA combined with family trees to find their biological parents, the same techniques were used to identify DNA left by perpetrators who weren’t in criminal databases. The capture of the Golden State Killer was the first major criminal case solved by genetic genealogy.

Four crazy true DNA cases

The serial killer who never existed

In 2008, law enforcement in Germany was frantically trying to find the “Phantom of Heilbronn.” While most criminals commit the same type of crime, the Phantom committed all kinds, from theft to murders. And even more surprising, she was a she! (Men commit about 90% of violent crimes.) The Phantom robbed a jeweler, murdered immigrants and a cop, and left behind a partially eaten cookie while burglarizing a trailer. She left DNA at 40 crime scenes in Germany, France, and Austria. Police spent countless hours on the case and offered thousands in reward money.

The Phantom was truly that. She never truly existed, at least not as a criminal. Instead the DNA belonged to an elderly Polish worker in the factory making the swabs police used to collect DNA. Somehow, she had contaminated the swabs as she worked. Instead of finding her DNA at dozens of crimes, the investigators had actually brought it with them.

(And while the serial killer in In the Blood is known as the Phantom of Portland, it’s not secretly an homage to this case. I was just looking for a scary P word to go with Portland.)

The man who shed DNA like glitter

If contaminated tools can mislead investigators, sometimes the human body does, too. DNA analysis used to require a sample of blood, spit, or semen the size of a nickel. Now it can be detected from microscopic samples. It’s also possible for these tiny bits of DNA to migrate from one person to another.

Some people leave a lot of themselves behind. A British cab driver had a skin condition so severe that other cabbies called him “Flaky.” In 2011, DNA found on the fingernails of a woman murdered six years earlier was run through a database. It matched the cab driver’s. He swore he’d never met her. It’s possible he’d given a ride to the actual murderer that day, who then inadvertently brushed against the shed DNA in the cab and later deposited it on the victim. The jury believed this theory was possible, and the cab driver was acquitted.

When your own DNA says you’re the killer

In California in 2012, a man and his wife were tied up and robbed. By the time they were found, the man had died due to the duct tape across his mouth. The thieves turned accidental killers had tried to not leave DNA. They wore rubber gloves, which they left piled in the sink doused in soap. But DNA was still recovered from them, as well as from the victim’s fingernails.

The DNA found on the victim’s nails matched a known robber. He told his attorney he didn’t remember participating in the robbery, but admitted he also had frequent blackouts. A genial homeless man with a long rap sheet for mostly minor offenses, he had a drinking problem and had also previously suffered a brain injury when, drunk, he stepped into the path of a truck.

The cops thought he might plead for leniency once he was convicted, so they pulled his medical records. That’s when they discovered he had been in the hospital at the time the victim died. He had drunk himself unconscious and been picked up by an ambulance. The two men had never been anywhere near each other.

But his DNA truly was on the victim’s fingernails. The same paramedics who brought him to the hospital were the ones who declared the victim dead. To do that, they used a pulse oximeter. The same one they had used on the drunk man earlier.

So those little ridges had carried DNA from one man to another. This is known as secondary transfer. A big part of Blood Will Tell was inspired by this case.

When your blood says you’re a woman—but you’re a man

Since your bone marrow makes your blood, if you have a bone marrow transplant, your blood will become your donor’s. I made use of that fact while writing In The Blood.

In a 2008 traffic accident in Seoul, South Korea, the victim’s blood showed that he was female—but his body was male. The man had received a bone marrow transplant from his daughter.

Abnormal female

I’ve taken DNA tests through Ancestry, 23&Me, and My Heritage, buy none of them have ever mentioned that I have more than 46 chromosomes. The companies are focused on genealogy, not missing or additional genetic material

What I have is a small supernumerary chromosome, just a little bit of either a 13 or a 21. Another family member has it, which means one of our parents must have had it too. Since at the time, our parents were both alive and healthy, I was told it was probably meaningless. Still, it’s strange to see your own report labelling you “abnormal.”

What I’m reading

I turned 67 on Tuesday—arguably the worst age for someone who visits middle schools. (I’m hoping the 6-7 trend is losing steam.)

If you want a peak behind the scenes, my podcast with Plot Twist Radio went live:

as did my podcast with Backstory

Another birthday in the family—my great-grandfather, the killer

Speaking of stories rooted in real life, my family has one I can’t shake. Yesterday, April 15, was the birthday of my great-grandfather, James “Pony” Satterwhite. Born in 1848, he joined the Confederate Army at 16. He later married and had eight children. The youngest was my grandma Effie Satterwhite.

In 1906 Pony shot 18-year-old Effie’s boyfriend, James Wallis, for kissing her. He excused these actions using the 1906 version of slut-shaming. The trial transcript says that after the shooting he was “talking to his daughter, Effie, in a loud tone of voice, and censuring her about what she had done, saying that she had got him into trouble by hugging and kissing this young man.”

Pony only served two years for murder. I discovered this hushed up family secret about a decade ago. Not only did this explain a lot about my grandmother’s personality (bitter, judgmental), but it also means I am a mystery writer descended from a killer.

With In the Blood, I wanted to explore how much of who we are is determined by our genes, how we are raised, and our own decisions.

Book countdown

With 26 days until In the Blood launches, I’m going all in on this book. Podcasts. Appearances. Essays. I’m even going to be on a local TV talk show. At the same time, I can’t help feeling like this:

If you’d like to help support In the Blood, Annie Bloom’s has a preorder campaign. If you share it in the next week and tag me, I’ll enter you in a drawing to win a signed first edition.

You can find me here:

• Facebook: aprilhenry

• Instagram: aprilhenrybooks

• Bluesky: aprilhenry

• Threads: aprilhenrybooks

Starred review for ECHOES OF THE LOST

Have you ever had a panic attack? Did you know one of the fastest ways to stop a panic attack can also make your writing more vivid?

The first time I had a panic attack was in the late 1990s. My car was in the shop and I was driving one of their free loaners—an old beater that smelled strongly of chemicals (people will sometimes do things in a loaner they wouldn’t do in their own car). It was winter. Even after I cracked the windows, the acidic stench was overpowering. Were the fumes toxic? The freeway was crowded. My chest started to feel tight. My heart galloped. My hands sweated on the wheel.

What if I passed out? I tried to take deep breaths, but they did no good. Somehow I made it home.

That was the first time I had a panic attack, but it wouldn’t be the last. For me, the first trigger is doing something that you can’t really take a break from. You can’t pause in the middle of the freeway to close your eyes and focus on your breathing.

In an early book of mine, Learning to Fly, I gave my main character Free (what can I say? Her parents were hippies) panic attacks. Free goes to a clinic about her troubling symptoms.

2026 April would probably try to make that dialog sound more natural, but the facts are right.

I kept having panic attacks while driving. That’s a second trigger, at least for me. Fear tied to a specific set of circumstances. I tried singing or praying or turning the radio up loud, which sometimes helped, but often didn’t. Eventually they faded away, and I tried not think about them, wary I might summon them.

Occasionally, panic attacks still reappeared when I was under stress, like snorkeling in choppy water or driving to visit a dying friend.

Then I did 10 days of school visits in Virgina, which meant I gave some version of the same talk more than 30 times in a row. It was December, and the weather was unseasonably warm. I had packed nothing but turtlenecks. That’s trigger numbers three and four for me—getting less sleep because of travel and being overheated.

The last time I spoke, I was on a stage with a spotlight in my eyes, which meant I couldn’t see the audience. Trigger number five: feeling like you are the center of attention and everyone is watching you fall apart.

I started worrying I was repeating myself. And I was repeating myself, but for a different audience. The mic felt so heavy and I felt so overheated. The room started to spin. What felt like electric shocks raced up and down my body. Was I about to faint? Directly in front of me was an orchestra pit. What if I staggered forward, passed out, and fell into it, breaking my neck? I might die in front of these middle schoolers, who would then be traumatized for life!

Trigger number six: an overactive imagination.

I managed to make it to the end without dying. I rested my elbow on the podium (I never stand behind them) and it helped steady me. But since then panic attacks have come and gone unpredictably. I might go months without one and then be tormented by them back to back.

Over time, I started noticing patterns—and figuring out what actually helped.

What has helped

Low-dose beta blockers

An author friend’s wife is a musician who gets stage fright. He told me her doctor had given her low-dose beta blockers for events. My doctor was willing to prescribe them. They help. I have to remember to be proactive and take them, because if you wait until you are in the middle of one, it’s too late, at least for that particular talk.

Dress for success

Dress in layers. It’s better to be too cold than too hot. And anything that is snug in the waist or chest is a no-no. It amplifies the feeling that you can’t breathe.

Focus on faces

I find a few faces that look particularly friendly or interested and look at them a little more often.

Anchor yourself

Rest your elbow on the podium or ask for a high backed stool you can use if necessary. A therapist recommended I try carrying a round rock in my pocket, a potent reminder of my childhood.

DARE

The book DARE by Barry McDonagh was helpful. It deals with anxiety and panic attacks. DARE includes a four-step process: Defuse, Allow, Run-toward, and Engage. (You can read about it here: https://thecenterforgrowth.com/tips/dare-a-four-step-approach-to-anxiety-management. Or get the book.)

The 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Technique

Grounding myself in my senses has been the thing that has helped the most.

SEE: Look around and identify 5 things you can see (e.g., a chair, a light on the ceiling, a tree).

TOUCH: Think of the texture of 4 things you can or could touch (e.g., your hair, the floor under your feet, the fabric of your chair).

HEAR: Listen for 3 distinct sounds (e.g., a ticking clock, traffic, your own breathing).

SMELL: Identify 2 scents in your environment (or that you could smell if you got closer) (e.g., coffee, air freshener, soap).

TASTE: Focus on 1 thing you can taste (e.g., toothpaste, a mint, or the inside of your mouth). Or imagine how something you can see would taste.

In Playing with Fire, Natalia uses this technique to help AJ, who is convinced he is having a heart attack.

Ground yourself to be a better writer

The 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Technique can also make your writing better. Go through a chapter and count the number of times you describe what the character sees, touches, hears, smells, and tastes. Can you find five of the first, four of the second, and so on? Because the more you use the senses, the more real it seems.

Whether you’re managing anxiety or writing a scene, sometimes the key is the same: come back to your senses.

What We Did to Survive

Last week, I had a grueling day that began with doing a school visit and then ended in two four-hour flights (plus time before and in-between). After making some last minute changes due to weather, both times I ended up in the middle seat. On the last flight, the older man next to me raised the arm rest between us, a fact I didn’t notice until he fell asleep and slumped into me.

But I had Megan Lally’s What We Did to Survive to entertain me. Two best friends are determined to milk the last day of their Mexican summer vacation, but their plans go terribly awry. She did a great job of ending every single chapter with a cliffhanger. Read this yourself in a single day, or hand it to a teen who says they don’t like to read.

Do you have any books you are looking forward to reading?

Last Thursday, I had a perfect day that ended at Powells, where I was in conversation with Benjamin Stevenson, author of Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone and Everyone in This Bank is a Thief.

Want to catch me on a podcast?

I was on Book Flood, hosted by a librarian Tom Nixon. And I was on Read the Room, a new podcast started by high schooler Grace Peacock. I filmed them back to back, and mixed things up by wearing a necklace for one.

If it’s Thursday, this must be Norfolk

When you read this, I will be starting my day in Norfolk, Virginia, trying mightily not to feel the three-hour time difference as I speak to middle and high school students. By the time I finally make it home, I’ll have been up for 22 hours. Friday will mostly be a recovery day—but on Friday night we have tickets for Bruce Springsteen!

Obsessive clicking

If you’re an author, you’re always trying to read the tea leaves before your book comes out (In the Blood, out May 12). One way is to look at your GoodReads rating. Normally I don’t look at anything but the aggregate rating, but since it is currently about as high as anything I’ve ever gotten (4.24 out of 5 as I write this), I peeked at some of the reviews.

Tessa is a very realistic character, with doubts and moods appropriate to a teenager, even an older teen. The subplot about her adoptive father adds some texture, and the reminder that it’s not all about Tessa. Keisha is a great character, with a level of humanity and empathy that really shines through. I liked El and Victor and the will they/won’t they between Tessa and him, which never crossed any lines but leavened the story. This is a mystery, not a romance. A very good mystery indeed, engaging the reader with science. There are some sensitive topics (teen pregnancy and religious abuse being the two biggies) and there is murder, so this book is probably more appropriate for slightly older teens. Five stars.

A suspenseful story that combines true crime elements and family secrets as well as the unsettling consequences of discovering one’s identity. With multiple perspectives, a gripping premise, and plenty of twists, the book is an engaging read for younger teens and fans of realistic crime fiction. Like all April Henry books, this one will do great in middle/high school libraries.

Pre-order giveaways

If you want to pre-order the book (including a limited number of unusual giveaway items), go to my local bookstore, Annie Blooms Books.

A dozen years ago, I started hearing about the quarter-life crisis: the anxiety of people in their early twenties trying to figure everything out.

But no one warned me about the three-quarters-life crisis.

The last couple of years, I’ve experienced waves of change. After 30 years in one house, we moved. My husband retired. We signed up for Medicare.

And I found myself wondering: What do I want to be when I grow old?

Should I retire? What would that even look like—especially for a writer? Ursula LeGuin was writing up until she died. Susan Beth Pfeffer told me she had stopped writing and didn’t even miss it.

If I never published another book or did another school visit, we would probably be fine. So finances weren’t a deciding factor. I have multiple TBR piles (some of which could double as furniture) and long lists of highly rated TV shows and movies I’ve never seen. My husband and I love to travel.

So what did I want the last quarter of my life to look like? I tried talking to a counselor, but she never really got it. I read books about aging. I worked with Dan Blank, author of Be the Gateway, who has a Substack newsletter here. He helped me focus on my priorities.

The reality is that many days, writing is still work. (But I always love having written.)

Traveling for school visits means jet lag, missed meals, and hotel gyms with only one working treadmill. On the final day of a trip, I’m often up for more than 20 hours.

And speaking to hundreds of students? It’s rewarding—but also draining. You’re constantly reading the room, adjusting on the fly, troubleshooting tech, and hoping things don’t veer into chaos (middle schoolers excel at unpredictability).

After publishing 31 books and doing 19 years of school visits, was I just doing everything out of habit?

But over the past year, I realized something: I’m not ready to be done.

I still love coming up with twisty ideas. Research makes my life richer. Travel lets me glimpse how other people live. And every day, I hear from readers—often because a teacher or librarian put one of my books in their hands.

And this past month, I feel like the universe has underlined I made the right decision.

I’ve heard from readers on social media:

I heard from a principal:

I heard from a librarian:

I heard from another librarian:

I decided the three-quarters-life crisis isn’t about slowing down. It’s about choosing what you want to keep.

Yesterday was Awkward Moment Day. My whole life I have felt clumsy and awkward. Graceless. The opposite of smooth. (As I’ve gotten older, I have not gotten any more graceful, but I have accepted that this is who I am.)

One moment from ten years ago is still seared in my memory—the time I grabbed a guy’s crotch on an airplane. And not just an accidental brush. This was a full-on squeeze.

The plane had stopped at the gate, and everyone was crowding into the aisle. I pulled my black backpack from under the seat in front of me and got to my feet. As I did I stretched my hand back, trying to thread my arm through my backpack straps.

My hand cupped something behind me. It was soft and about hip high. For a second, I tried to figure out what it was—while I was still holding it. Part of an armrest? The corner of a roll aboard?

Then I realized what it was and jerked my hand back. I had been touching a person. Specifically, a male person’s crotch.

I forced myself to turn around. The crotch’s owner was a businessman, mid-40s, well dressed in a charcoal pin-striped suit and a white pressed shirt.

“I am so, so sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t realize that was your—I mean, that you would be right there.”

The businessman pretended he hadn’t heard me. He stared straight ahead, past my head, or maybe through it. The only sign anything had happened was the dark red flush that was beginning to creep over the edge of his white collar.

I turned back around. I had to get off this plane. Immediately. Before I was charged with assault.

The aisle was now jammed full of people, wrestling their carry-ons or waiting, bent double under the overhead bins. but the front doors stayed closed. Was it my imagination, or did I feel the businessman’s eyes boring a hole in me? Did I feel his hatred along with his breath against the back of my neck?

When we were finally released, I basically ran as fast and as far away as possible.

Travel is not for the faint of heart

Last week, I was on five planes. Unlike other unlucky travelers, I had no problems with TSA lines or weather closures. I experienced everything else, though. A plane that sat on the tarmac for 90 minutes, with no AC, and the outside temperature was over 80 degrees. A plane that could not take off because the window shade in the emergency exit was stuck in the closed position. A plane that needed to be de-iced. A plane that landed so late I had to literally run from one terminal to another—only to learn that that the next plane was late, too.

On my final flight, a woman about my age boarded. At first I thought she knew a lot of people on the plane. Maybe they were her coworkers? As she walked down the aisle, she gibed and teased and called out. She loudly made fun of a guy at the end of my row for his long legs, then sat behind me. A minute later, she ordered the flight attendant to find her another seat, exclaiming that her middle seat wasn’t comfortable. Then she burst into showy laughter. “I just wanted to see what you would do! You should have seen your face!”

By now I was exchanging concerned glances with the people around me. This woman seemed drunk and out of control. This was underlined when she announced to her seat mates in a near shout, “I’m a nervous flier. You guys are going to have to hold my hands!”

Kudos to Alaska Airlines. A uniformed guy walked back and asked her to come up front with him. He somehow managed to make it sound like she was being upgraded to first class, without ever saying those words.

When she was instead escorted off the plane, people clapped.

What’s your craziest travel story?

Cons and schools

Last week, I was at TomeCon. TomeCon is an annual student-centered literacy conference organized by the Tome Student Literacy Society for grades 2–12, which is focused on celebrating reading, leadership, and creativity. Held in Athens, Georgia, TomeCon features author talks and panels, crafts, and educational sessions, connecting thousands of young readers with authors. I met a bunch of cool authors, including Gordon Korman.

After Tome Con, I flew to Chicago to speak at a middle school. I thought it went well, but then the principal said in a serious tone that he had some feedback for me and asked how he could share it. Something about the word “feedback,” made me think “constructive criticism.” I was sure he was unhappy.

Then he sent my booking agent this note: “Our school was honored to host April Henry recently. April’s presentation and connection with our students was a highlight of our trimester. April’s assembly was engaging visually and her presentation hooked our students. We are grateful to hear about her ideas and writing process and look forward to seeing her future successes. We are fortunate to house a librarian who connects our students to great authors like April.”

Whew!

What I’m reading this week

At any one time, I’m reading multiple books: physical books that I’ve purchased or borrowed from the library, audio books bought from Chirp (highly recommended!), and ebooks picked up on sale. One of my current reads is Maya Shankar’s The Other Side of Change: Who We Become When Life Makes Other Plans. Each chapter profiles a person who faced a significant change, such as becoming permanently disabled or being sent to prison. She discusses how books can change a person, citing research that says reading fiction “offers a kind of ‘identity laboratory’ where you’re given the opportunity to experiment with different versions of yourself…. Readers blend their self-identities with the identities of a book’s characters, and this dynamic interplay allows readers to freely try on new personality traits or to explore how they might respond to particular events or environments.”

I think that’s a nice complement to the idea of books being windows, mirrors, and sliding glass doors.

Tessa’s biological mother, who was raised in a religious cult, has cut all ties with her controlling family. And Tessa’s biological father remains a complete mystery.

At least until the police show up. For fifteen years, they’ve been trying to identify a serial killer known as the Portland Phantom. Tessa is the link they’ve been waiting for.

I poured my fascination with genetic genealogy into this book. Genetic genealogy is when you use DNA to build a family tree. Not only is it an interesting hobby or a way for adoptees to find their biological parents, but it’s also how a lot of killers have been caught, starting with the Golden State Killer, who was both a cop and a serial killer.

As I worked on In the Blood, I learned that a lot of what I thought was true about genetics was wrong. Like I’ve read more than one book where a major plot point is that two brown-eyed parents supposedly can’t have a blue-eyed child—but that’s not 100% true.

The reviews have been good, and right now I have the best average rating on Good Reads I’ve had for any book. (If you’re an author awaiting publication, you look for any and all signs and portents.) You can still enter a giveaway for 20 copies of the ARC (advanced readers copy) here.

Incentives for early birds

My local bookstore, Annie Blooms Books is running a special pre-order campaign. Order through them, and not only will you be supporting a fantastic independent bookstore, but you’ll receive some cool swag available exclusively through them.

Order before May 12 (the day the book goes on sale), and you will receive a bookmark, a letter about why I wrote the book, and even a series of deleted scenes. And of course I will sign and personalize the book however you’d like.

But wait, there’s more!

Be one of the first 50 people to pre-order, and you’ll also receive two unique items.

The first is a woman’s necklace bearing the initial “D.” In the book, a character/victim named Candace Rossner is found wearing the necklace, but at first the police don’t realize its importance. The necklace actually belonged to another character, Dana Jennings. Their killer, known as the Portland Phantom, always takes a trophy or two from a victim, then leaves one as a sort of a calling card on the next.

Each necklace will be in an evidence collection bag, filled out by me (hopefully real cops have better handwriting than I do). Each evidence bag has a case number that ends with a number from 01 to 50, so each is unique.

To participate, head to the Annie Blooms website and place your order before May 12.

Tome Con

This week, I was lucky enough to go to another conference, or “con” as all the cool kids call them. This one was Tome Con.

The Tome Society is a Georgia-based book club for students in grades 2-12. Students in club chapters read and discuss great books, create items to enter in literacy-based competitions, and participate in virtual and in-person literacy events. Once a year, they have Tome Con, where thousands of students gather to meet authors, make crafts, and hang out with other book lovers. I personally was excited to meet Gordon Korman. He’s a rock star in my world!

But what was really fun was talking to the students. When you are speaking at a conference where everyone is excited about being there, you learn you have to build in more time for laughter and exclamations.

Last week, I spoke at three high schools in the Salt Lake City area, taught a writing workshop at a middle school, and presented twice at StoryCon (which draws something like 4,000 readers/writers). It was amazing and exhausting. The first day began with my alarm going off at 2:45 am so I could catch an early flight.

At one high school, I met Jaxen. Seated in the front row, he asked several questions. It wasn’t until the end that I noticed the folding blind cane on his lap. Afterward, he came up and spoke to me. Two years ago, he woke up with most of his central vision gone. It sounds like the cause is still a medical mystery. But Jaxen told me the character of Cheyenne (who is learning to adapt to her sudden blindness in Girl, Stolen) gave him hope.

StoryCon was amazing. Jennifer Nielsen and Brandon Sanderson were two of the keynote speakers. I really related to Jennifer’s stories about growing up poor and feeling like an outsider. We even have similar stories about how someone who once tormented us has become a big fan.

Brandon said his first sale was actually the 13th book he wrote. (And I thought that my fourth book being my first published book was a long gap.)

Readers become writers

Back in the day, I had a LiveJournal blog. (I actually kept it up until LiveJournal, and this is not a joke, required payment in rubles.) Many teens messaged me, and around 2013, I heard from a girl named Erica. She had written two book but was disappointed by how they turned out. I said a lot of first books are like first pancakes (which are often runny or burnt), but that eventually she would get it dialed in. I told her to keep me posted.

So Erica kept writing, and last weekend she found me at StoryCon to say she now has a literary agent and has a book on submission.

The mysteries of names

About 10 minutes from the Story Con venue was the Family Search Center, which is run by the LDS church. During a break in the conference I walked over with my laptop and my mysteries. Who were these Henrys who were clearly from the same line as my family, but who I couldn’t connect with my family? Who were the two Nancys my second great grandfather married in Alabama after faking his own death and leaving his wife behind in Illinois?

Unfortunately, the friendly and knowledgeable volunteers confirmed that it would be almost impossible to figure these things out. The other Henrys were so far in the past that I probably could never unravel it. And even though I knew the two Nancy’s last names, as women who were likely in their 40s or 50s, their original last names had probably been different than the ones they married him under.

What does your name mean?

Speaking of names, today is Learn What Your Name Means Day. The name April supposedly came from the Latin word for “to open,” as in flowering.

Having the right name for your character is so important. In The Girl Who Was Supposed to Die, the main male character started as Gareth. But he just didn’t gel for me. When I finally changed his name to Ty, short for Tyler, he really came alive. And it felt like a sign when the same week I made the decision, the tow truck driver who twice came for my broken-down car (it was a bad week) was named Ty.

But if you decide to change a character’s name in the middle of a book, you have to be careful. In The Girl in the White Van, I changed Chris to Dan. Stupidly, I did a global search and replace, which is how characters ended up celebrating “Dantmas.”

Because I write books for and about teens, characters named Nancy, Lisa, or Debbie (the most common girls’ names of my era) won’t work. Now when I do school visits, I’ll write down striking names like Stella or Colton. I have also perused baby naming sites. I’ll sometimes give characters a name that means something. For the example, if the first name is Hope or Sunny, or the last name is Orchard or Frost, you can lean into that meaning or create a character that is the opposite.

Help me name a character

Speaking of names, I’m starting a new book. Do you want to nominate a character name or two?

Twisty as hell

Last week, I finished It’s Not Her by Mary Kubica. I don’t think I’ve read anything by her before, but I really liked this one. It had not one, but two twists at the end, and both worked for me. (Not always a given). Even though the book had a small cast, she managed to make all of them suspects. It was so good that I was driven to finish it the Lyft home, despite feeling a little carsick.

(If you liked this post, give it a like. That helps other people find it.)

I’m relieved to report that strong reviews from School Library Journal, Booklist, and Kirkus have all come in for my May 12 book, In the Blood. It’s described as:

• “Smart”

• “Unsettling”

• “Exciting”

• “Shocking”

• “Sensitive”

• “Disturbing”

• “Insightful”

• “Suspenseful”

If you’d like to get your hands on a rare ARC (advanced reader’s copy) of In the Blood, there’s a GoodReads giveaway for 20 copies. (Every entry lets my publisher know that you like my books, which is a good thing.) Enter here: https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/433114-in-the-blood

In In the Blood, Tess uncovers secrets about her birth parents and wonders about nature vs. nurture. As I wrote it, I thought about my parents raised us far better than they were raised.

My parents, myself

This month marked both my parent’s birthdays. My dad would have been 103 and my mom 91. In real life, they were gone at 80 and 78, respectively. Both came from difficult backgrounds, but became great parents.

My paternal grandparents married late. My dad was born when they were 43 and 36 They worried about doing a bad job, so they followed the advice of a child psychologist who was popular at the time.

As a result, my dad grew up feeling unloved. His family was poor. That meant occasionally moving out of places in the middle of the night when they were behind on rent. Sometimes picking crops with migrant workers. My dad joined the Marines during World War II, never graduating high school. He was a radio DJ and later a TV anchor.

My maternal grandparents had troubles of their own. On the 1920 census, my grandma was 11 and living in a boarding house with no other relatives. Her dad was in prison for arson, and I’m not sure the rest of her family was. When my grandma was 15, her father died in an insane asylum. She married at 16 (and wasn’t even pregnant). That first marriage just lasted long enough to produce one son. Then she married my grandfather and had two more kids.

When my mom was born, they didn’t even have a girl’s name picked out, so my mom’s relatives all called her Tom or Tommy, the name she would have been been given if she was a boy. Again, the family was poor.

My mom was no ordinary mom. I think sometimes she wanted to be ordinary, she wanted to blend in, but that wasn’t how God made her. She was tall, she was an artist, she was an extrovert, she followed her heart, she spoke her mind. She loved everyone, most especially the people the rest of might choose to overlook.

Even though I have none of my mom’s artistic talent, I have tried making necklaces the way she did out of buttons and buckles bought at garage sales. (My supplies come from eBay).

My parents raised us without much money, but surrounded us with love.

When I started writing, my dad gave me his copy of Characters Make Your Story. He had dreamed of being a novelist, but instead wrote his own new copy and later a newspaper column. My parents sent me this card underlining their belief in me.

I wish every child could grow up with unconditional love as I did, the same kind of love my character Tessa experiences from her adoptive parents.