New Year, Same Magic (Plus Extra Papillon Shenanigans)

There’s something about January light—it slants through the window as though it’s trying to whisper, “So… what now?” And every year I give that light the same answer: “Honestly? Probably the same thing I was doing yesterday.”

Because here we are, off into a brand-new year, standing at the doorway as if it’s a shiny party we weren’t totally prepared for but decided to attend anyway. Everyone around me starts talking resolutions, gym memberships, juice cleanses, ambitious goals with color-coded planners—meanwhile I’m over here with a notebook full of ideas for magical Papillon mysteries, a coffee mug that says Writer at Work (Probably), and two Papillons who have decided the only real resolution worth making is More Snacks.

Blueberry, the diva princess of fluff and mischief, approves of my non-resolutions. Buddy, my newly adopted eleven-year-old gentleman scamp, has no idea what a New Year’s resolution is but confidently assumes it involves belly rubs and making sure I never type more than three sentences without petting him. And honestly? That sounds like an excellent life strategy.

People always ask me what my big plans are for the year, and I usually break into a small internal panic because “plans” implies some sort of adult-level organization. But this year, as I settle into a comfy chair with my notebook, I find tremendous peace in realizing the truth: I like what I’m doing. I like where I am. I like the stories simmering in my brain like a pot of cozy mystery stew on a winter stove. And so many of you have reached out to say, “Please keep going!”—which is both heart-melting and mildly terrifying because now I have witnesses.

So what’s next? More magical Papillon books, of course. More whimsical adventures. More tiny dogs solving crimes while I pretend I’m the one writing them (Blueberry insists she does most of the plotting, Buddy handles character development, and I merely operate the keyboard). And yes, I’ve got a couple of side projects brewing too—sparkly little ideas that keep nudging me awake at 2 AM to whisper, “Write meeeee.”

And as I get older, I realize there’s no grand reinvention needed. I’m not doing a New Year overhaul. No “new year, new me” happening here—unless you count the fact that I might try being a tiny bit less stubborn and a smidge less perfectionist. But let’s be realistic: if my personality were a Papillon, it would be the kind that sits on your lap lovingly… and then refuses to move because this is where it wants to be forever.

So here’s my grand resolution for the year: keep dreaming, keep writing, keep playing in magical worlds where dogs talk and mysteries unravel, and have an absolute blast living life with my two Papillon muses.

Blueberry nods. Buddy wags his tail. And I—well, I sharpen my pencils, refill my mug, and get back to creating stories that (hopefully) bring you as much joy as these dogs bring me.

Happy New Year, my friends. Let’s make it magical.

The Absolute Madness of Naming Characters

Let’s talk about one of the most ridiculous struggles of writing a book. No, I’m not talking about the part where you stare at the blinking cursor like it personally insulted your ancestors. I’m talking about naming characters. It should be easy, right? Just slap a name on them and move on? Oh, my sweet summer child. If only. See, naming a character is like naming your kid—except worse, because nobody is going to complain if your kid and their cousin both end up being named Liam. But if your main villain is named Liam and you accidentally give the quirky coffee shop owner in book three the same name? Cue the existential crisis. Let’s walk through the madness. The Overthinking Spiral of Doom You start writing, and there’s that moment: your brand-new character walks onto the page, full of potential. All they need is a name. A simple name. Something strong, something fitting, something— Oh no. Nothing sounds right. This one is too complicated. That one is too simple. ...

Stories Are Everywhere: The Writer’s Endless Inspiration

As a writer, one of the most common questions I’m asked is, “How do you come up with your stories?” It’s a question that often makes me smile because the answer is as simple as it is profound: stories are everywhere. Inspiration doesn’t always strike in grand, dramatic moments. More often than not, it emerges quietly, weaving its way into the fabric of everyday life. Conversations with friends, the sights and sounds of a bustling city, or even the stillness of a room can spark the seed of an idea. Writers aren’t just storytellers; we’re observers, collecting fragments of life and spinning them into tales. Let me share a recent example of how a simple evening turned into the genesis of a new story idea. Over two perfectly crafted negronis, I was discussing the schedule for an upcoming event with a friend. Their house, a treasure trove of artwork, surrounded us. Every piece of art seemed to hum with a story of its own. Midway through the second drink, I remarked, “One day, someb...

Negronis, art, and the Next Mystery

You know you have the best readers in the world when they politely demand the next book—with extra exclamation marks and not a hint of shame. So many of you have been asking (some quite insistently, and with the kind of enthusiasm that makes my day) about the next Magical Papillon Mystery . Those of you who asked on social media — thank you!!! To all of you, I say — bless your sweet, book-loving hearts, and fear not. Pixie will return! Here’s what happened… Last Christmas, after one (or more) festive Negronis with my very talented artist friend, I made the kind of pronouncement that can only come after equal parts gin, vermouth, and orange. I looked around her house — absolutely overflowing with paintings, colors, and canvases stacked like leaning towers of artistic chaos — and said something like, “Wouldn’t it make a great story if someone inherited a house full of original art, and every painting had a secret behind it, and they had to solve the mysteries one by one…?” Well. One...

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