Thinkingdog Publishing

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. Not journaling. Not “dear diary.” No, no. Full-scale, dramatic, emotionally riveting, possibly suspiciously embellished storytelling. “Active imagination,” they called it. “Lying,” my mother called it. In fairness, I can see her point. If a child comes home from school and claims she single-handedly rescued a flock of endangered geese while befriending a mysterious old woman who may or may not have been a witch… well… questions will be asked. But give me this: those stories had structure. They had pacing. They had emotional arcs. Honestly, they deserved better editorial support. My favorite assignment every single year was the classic: What I Did This Summer. Other kids wrote half a page about popsicles and sunburns. I turned in seven pages without taking a breath. Characters were introduced. Plot twists unfolded. There may have been a subplot involving a dramatic betrayal at a lemonade stand. Looking back, it wasn’...

There’s something wildly comforting about a simple phrase. “Just Do It.” It’s bold. It’s clean. It doesn’t overthink things. It doesn’t spiral into a late-night identity crisis while holding a cup of reheated coffee and wondering if it should also start a podcast, a newsletter, a YouTube channel, and possibly learn interpretive dance for marketing purposes. It just… does it. And honestly? That’s where the magic is. Because here’s what I’ve learned the hard way (and by “hard way,” I mean slightly frazzled, mildly sleep-deprived, and being judged by a very fluffy Papillon named Blueberry): the moment we quietly sneak one tiny word into that phrase— all —everything changes. “Just Do It All.” Oh. Oh no. Now suddenly we are no longer inspired athletes in a motivational montage. We are overwhelmed authors staring at a never-ending checklist that includes social media posting schedules, ad campaigns, newsletter funnels, branding strategies, reader magnets, SEO optimization, an...

There comes a time in every author’s life when she must face the truth. Not the kind of truth involving plot holes or suspiciously disappearing characters… No. The real truth. That her Papillon is running the entire operation. Hi. Blueberry here. ✨ Professional muse. Magical consultant. Snack supervisor. Occasional ghost liaison. You’re welcome. Let me explain—slowly, clearly, and with just the right amount of sass—why Mommy (yes, that cozy mystery author) would be absolutely, catastrophically lost without me.   1. I Am the Original Magical Papillon (Pixie Wishes She Had My Resume) Listen. Pixie is adorable. She’s iconic. She’s fictional royalty. But where do you think Mommy got the inspiration? Exactly. From this face. From my dramatic stares into the void. From my ability to sense things no one else can (like ghosts… and cheese wrappers opening three rooms away). From my natural flair for the supernatural and the theatrical. Without me, Pixie would ...