Thinkingdog Publishing

There’s nothing quite like pouring your heart, soul, and an irresponsible amount of coffee into a novel—only to have someone on the internet declare it “the worst book I’ve ever read” right after publication day. First of all… dramatic much? If you’re reading this post and you’ve ever gotten a bad review, welcome to the club . We have cookies. And tissues. And a secret spreadsheet where we compare the most dramatic one-star zingers and rate them for flair and emotional devastation. There's even an entire podcast where they read one-star reviews out loud - and make fun of them. But seriously. Let’s talk about it. Bad reviews happen to everybody. And I mean everybody . I once looked up reviews for a wildly famous author who’s sold more books than there are cats on the internet (and that’s saying something), and guess what? One-star reviews galore. Someone said their “writing style reminded them of damp lettuce.” I don’t know what that means, but I know it’s harsh. So what do we ...

The Day I Forgot the chairs, But Remembered the Wine  An “About the Author” misadventure with dogs, books, and Christmas in July magic. You know what makes for a perfect day? A vineyard. Dogs. A Christmas-themed event...in July. Oh, and did I mention wine ? This past weekend, we packed up our books, our branding, and our two furry sidekicks—Blueberry (the real-life inspiration behind Pixie the magical Papillon) and Kobe (our wise, old floof and Senior Advisor to All Things)—and headed off to the Hounds of Erie Winery for their fabulous Christmas in July celebration. Why? Because Book 4 in the Magical Papillon Mysteries just launched and it happens to be titled—wait for it— Christmas in July. Clearly, fate was sending a festive wine-soaked sleigh in our direction, and we were all in. We had a booth set up among the grapevines and wagging tails, and honestly? It was an absolute blast . The Hounds of Erie team were some of the kindest, most welcoming humans you could ever ...

There’s this German TV show I love. It’s one of those wonderfully slow-paced, feel-good programs where a guy drives around the countryside, poking into little-known corners of the world, visiting old craftsmen, artists, and those wonderfully eccentric people who always have a twinkle in their eye and a suspiciously large number of half-finished projects lying around. You know the type. The ones who start their sentences with, "Ach, back in my day..." but then promptly pull out a blowtorch, a chisel, or an embroidery needle and create something breathtaking. But here’s the thing—they’re not just working . They’re living . They LOVE what they do. They’re in their seventies, their eighties, sometimes even their nineties, and they’re still at it. Not because they have to, but because they want to. Because whatever they do—be it woodcarving, painting, weaving, or some bizarre skill no one’s even heard of outside their tiny village—it’s their thing . And I think there’s a les...

There is something undeniably tragic about watching history get bulldozed while sipping your morning coffee. One day, you’re admiring a charming 1920s bungalow with its quaint shutters and hand-carved porch railings, and the next—it’s a pile of rubble, making way for something that looks like an Amazon warehouse with windows. Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m all for progress. I’m not suggesting we all go back to washing our clothes on a rock by the river. But does every house really have to look like a stack of Ikea flat-packs glued together? I live in one of those neighborhoods where the homes used to have character. Stained glass windows. Detailed woodwork. The kind of charm that makes you wonder if a ghost might be hanging around for nostalgia’s sake. (And as someone who writes paranormal mysteries, you know I appreciate a good haunted house vibe.) But lately, it's been attack of the boxy modern behemoths. You know the ones—flat roofs, the color of existential despair, and ...

  Let’s rewind to about a year ago when I decided to dabble in audiobooks. You know, like a casual hobby—except nothing in my life ever stays casual. I either go all in or I abandon ship before even getting my feet wet. This time, I went all in. I got myself a fancy Zoom P4 deck, a solid Samson dynamic microphone, and a whole mess of software that I initially had no idea how to use. I figured, how hard could it be? (Spoiler: very hard ). But I wasn’t worried. Why? Because I know my learning style. Some people take courses. Some people hire coaches. Some people watch endless YouTube tutorials. And then there’s me—stubbornly determined to learn everything by trial and error. I prefer to tinker, to break things, to question my life choices when I realize I recorded an entire chapter with my mic turned off. "Why don’t you just take a course?" my brother, the actual audio engineer, asked repeatedly. (This is the same brother who once set up my first microphone and watche...

You know that old myth that inspiration strikes like lightning? Yeah. Let’s go ahead and toss that in the compost bin, right next to last week’s kale. As a cozy mystery author, I get asked all the time: “Where do you get your ideas?” There’s this widely held belief that writers are constantly floating around in a bubble of creativity, sipping tea and spontaneously birthing brilliant plots like literary unicorns. Let me just invite you into the real scene at my house. It’s 9 a.m. I shuffle into my writing space, which is honestly just a desk covered in sticky notes, empty mugs, and at least three pens I pretend I don’t chew. I sit down. Crack knuckles. Tell myself, “Today is the day I finish Chapter Four!” And… absolutely nothing happens. Not a plot twist. Not a witty line of dialogue. Not even a suspicious footprint on a doormat. Just blank screen and the sound of Blueberry, my extremely judgmental Papillon, sighing loudly from her perch on the armchair. If you don’t b...

There comes a time in every writer’s life when they sit down with a cup of coffee (or let’s be honest, something stronger) and ask themselves: Why do I do this to myself? I’ve written thrillers. I’ve written romance. I’ve written thrillers again because apparently, I enjoy stress. But no matter where my writing adventures take me, I always— always —come back to cozy mysteries. And you know what? They’re my most successful books, too. So, why cozies? Simple. Have you looked outside lately? The world is one sigh away from an absolute meltdown. I mean, it’s a lot. Every time I scroll the news, I have to resist the urge to grab my dog and escape to a remote island where WiFi doesn’t exist. But instead of moving to the middle of nowhere, I write cozy mysteries. Why? Because I need to believe that somewhere, somehow, a kinder world still exists. A world where people bake pies instead of doom-scrolling. A world where a cup of tea and a bit of small-town gossip can actually solv...