Something went wrong....

Has this happened to you? You're sitting there working, on a fun cozy mystery. Magic, a mystery, there's a ghost floating by, Pixie says something sassy....

And then it happens.

Something went wrong.

That's it. That's the whole message my computer gave me. Three words, delivered with all the urgency and helpfulness of a shrug emoji.

Something went wrong.

I stared at it. It stared back. Neither of us blinked for what felt like a considerable amount of time.

Now, I think i am a reasonable person, right? And - I write magical cozy mysteries, which means I spend a significant portion of my working day inventing elaborate, detailed explanations for impossible events. Pixie, my enchanted Papillon, has explained the mechanics of ghost communication to me in more coherent terms than my own computer managed just now. My fictional dog — who does not exist — is better at communication than enterprise-grade software. I need a moment with that.

But back to the scene of the crime. Something went wrong.

Something. Something. Of all the words available in the English language — and there are, conservatively, a lot of them — whoever wrote this error message looked off into the sun.... and chose something. A word so non-specific it could apply to any event of the pas - thousand years or so. The fall of Rome? Something went wrong. The invention of fax machines? Something went wrong. That one time I put salt in my coffee instead of sugar and didn't realize until the third sip? Something. Went. Wrong.

I squinted at the screen to see if I had missed something, maybe i wasn't wearing glasses. I was. There was no additional information, no hidden. My laptop genuinely believed that something went wrong was a complete and satisfying explanation of my situation, and it had made its peace with that.

I as a human needed more here for this be useful. Just a hint, really. A crumb. The name of a file. A server. A vague directional arrow pointing toward the general zip code of the problem. Even something poetic — the connection was lost, the document could not be saved, Mercury is in retrograde and your upload has become one with the cosmos — any of that would have been genuinely more helpful.

Writers work with information. We take it in, we turn it over, we do things with it. Give me a thread, just a tiny one, and I will pull on it until I have unravelled the mystery. I do this for a living. I cannot deal with no information, which is exactly what something went wrong provides.

You know that coworker who responds to 'what happened to the quarterly report?' with 'stuff.' Just stuff. Stuff happened. Off you go. Yeah - that.

I tried clicking away and coming back. I tried the age-old ritual of closing the tab and reopening it, which is less a technical solution and more a form of digital prayer. I tried turning it off and on again, which is the tech-support version of 'have you tried taking a deep breath'. I tried, explaining the issue to my dog, who did nothing about it...

None of this fixed the something. The something remained wrong.

Dear software developers of the world — and I say this with genuine warmth, because some of you are probably lovely people who also love cozy mysteries and scented candles — please. I am begging you. Tell me what went wrong. Tell me where it went wrong. Tell me if I should try again, or wait, or sacrifice a small offering of patience to whatever server deity has been offended. Tell me if it's my fault, your fault, the internet's fault, or Mercury's fault. I can handle the truth. I am a mystery writer. I live for the truth.

Just please, for the love of all things do not look me in the eye and say something went wrong like that is a finished sentence.

It is not. It is definitely not an answer.

Until next time — may your uploads complete, your connections hold, and your error messages tell you absolutely everything.

Lets hope I get my document back!

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. ...

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...

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...

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