My Favorite Reads of 2025

by Dietrich

This has been another banner year of reading for me. These are my dozen favorites, books that spanned the dusty backroads of the American West in the 1940s, the frozen streets of a fictional Copenhagen, the moral rot of 1950s Los Angeles, and the slow, heartbreaking decay of a Beatles partnership, with generous detours into Wonderland, Florida swamps, Dublin pubs, and the bayous of Louisiana. My tastes refuse to get stuck on a single genre, so it’s a mixed bag of the ones that floored me, listed in order of their original publication date.

The Big Rock Candy Mountain – Wallace Stegner (1943) A restless dreamer drags his wife and sons across the early-20th-century West chasing one doomed scheme after another—gold mines, bootlegging, homesteading—while the family slowly fractures under the weight of his merciless vision of success. Stegner does families like nobody else.

Sula – Toni Morrison (1973) In a small Black neighborhood in Ohio, two girls grow up inseparable, then choose radically different paths—one marries and conforms, the other burns every bridge she crosses. Their bond becomes the town’s defining legend and its original sin.

The Big Nowhere (L.A. Quartet #2) – James Ellroy (1988) Three cops—one ambitious, one crooked, one haunted—get tangled in a triple murder investigation tied to union wars, Hollywood blackmail, and a serial killer who carves up his victims to a jazzy soundtrack in postwar Los Angeles.

Tell-All – Chuck Palahniuk (2010) A fading Golden Age movie queen and her too-loyal assistant spiral into a hallucinatory plot involving plastic surgery, blackmail, and a tell-all memoir that keeps rewriting itself—literally—every time someone dies.

After Alice – Gregory Maguire (2015) While Alice is off chasing white rabbits, her friend Ada Boyce tumbles down the same hole on a rescue mission and discovers a darker, more sardonic Wonderland where the Red Queen’s court is plotting something far worse than croquet.

A Man With One of Those Faces – Caimh McDonnell (2016) A Dublin everyman who looks like “every police sketch ever” agrees to visit a dying stranger in hospital for cash—only to wake up with gangsters, cops, and a bunny-wielding granny all convinced he’s somebody worth killing.

Mangrove Lightning (Doc Ford #24) – Randy Wayne White (2017) Marine biologist—and occasional government assassin—Doc Ford investigates a series of bizarre attacks on a charter captain's family, linking them to a near-century-old unsolved multiple murder in the Florida Everglades. 

Clown Town (Slow Horses #9) – Mick Herron (2025) Disgraced MI5 agent River Cartwright investigates a missing book from his grandfather’s library that unearths a decades-old, dangerous state secret from the Troubles in Northern Ireland. As MI5’s First Desk scrambles to contain the fallout, the 'slow horses' of Slough House get tangled in the mess, all under the watchful, cynical eye of Jackson Lamb..

The Usual Desire to Kill – Camilla Barnes (2024) In a dilapidated French farmhouse, a translator juggles the chaos of caring for her eccentric, aging parents and her estranged sister's arrival, forced to confront a lifetime of family secrets, sibling rivalry, and the complicated nature of love and death.

John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs – Ian Leslie (2024) A lyrical, track-by-track chronicle of the Lennon-McCartney partnership—how two teenagers invented each other, rewrote pop music, and slowly, inevitably broke each other’s hearts, told almost entirely through lyrics and studio chatter.

Embedded – John Lansing (2025) Framed Army Ranger Dakota Judd goes undercover in a white-supremacist prison gang, then deeper into their armed militia, for the FBI. One mistake and he’s dead. Fast, brutal, redemptive.

Don’t Forget Me, Little Bessie – James Lee Burke (2025) In the brutal dawn of the 20th century, young Bessie Holland—daughter of the indomitable Hackberry—navigates a Texas ravaged by oil barons, gangsters, and her own ghosts, finding fierce guidance from a suffragette teacher as she battles for justice, family, and the love she’s never known.

Here’s what’s on the Stack:

What in the World? – Leanne Morgan (2024) A stand-up comedian from Tennessee delivers a big-hearted, zero-filter memoir about raising kids, surviving divorce, hot flashes, Jesus, and why Dollar General is a legitimate food group. Basically therapy in book form, but funnier.

Bread of Angels – Patti Smith (2025) A spare, luminous blend of memoir and poetry: Smith trails her late husband’s ghost through Detroit and Tangier, communes with Joan of Arc, photographs graves, feeds cats, and turns grief into fleeting sacraments. Less a book than a whispered Polaroid sequence.

Here’s to the last of 2025 and the promise of 2026—may they both deliver armloads of books to wreck all our sleep schedules, hijack our commutes, and leave us muttering about characters like they’re real people.

All the best for the holidays and happy reading.

Favorite Reads of 2025

 

Time for our Favorite Reads of the Year 

 This has been a “red letter” reading year. I’ve read a LOT of books this year. Some I really liked, and a few I even thought were brilliant. On my long list of recommended reads you’ll find everything from cozy-ish to police procedurals, to thrillers, to domestic suspense. You’ll find exceptional plots, lovely descriptions, unforgettable characters, and just plain good writing. 

 Here are my favorites, in no particular order: 

What We Can Know, Ian McEwan—I picked this up because it got a whole page spread in the New York Times Book Review. And I wasn’t disappointed. It starts off slowly (as so many classic books do) and builds slowly and inexorably to a revelation at the end that explains the name of the book as well as everything that has gone before. In that, it reminds me of the The Magic Mountain, by Thomas Mann. 

A surprise entry was How to Solve Your Own Murder, Kristen Perrin. A delightful read about a woman who stages a contest to find out who is going to kill her. Crisp writing, and excellent plot.

Knife River, Baron Bircher—this isn’t a new book, but it was new to me. Lyrical writing is a beautiful paean to Oregon. Include an intriguing mystery and memorable characters, and it was right there with the best of my reads. 

The Case of the Missing Maid, Rob Osler—I’m joining in the chorus of praise for this debut series. It’s an absolutely delightful historical novel about the first hired by a detective agency. I can’t wait for the next one, which will come out early next year. 

 Gangsterland, Tod Goldberg— Good characters, good action, good plot. A mob guy screws up in Chicago and gets sent to Las Vegas for a “makeover.” In a sea of “gangster” themed books, this one has a unique idea. The writing is terrific.

 How to Read a Book, Monica Wood—charming book about a female ex-con, a woman who runs the prison book club, and a widower who admires the book lady. 

 Embedded, John Lansing—really dynamic thriller. Dakota Judd is let out of jail to help the FBI. Could have been a tired trope, but Judd is a really good character. Smart, clever, and ethical. A killer who kills people who need killing. Aunt Billie and Agent Steele are good sidekicks.

The God of the Woods, Liz Moore—exceptional book. 8-year-old boy vanishes on a walk with his father. Fourteen years later his younger sister disappears from a camp in the same area of the Adirondacks. Lots of twists and turns. Atmospheric, good ending. 

  Echo, Tracy Clark—Tracy Clark never disappoints me and this one is excellent. College student found dead in a field. Turns out to be a case of revenge over a death that occurred years ago. All the men involved—and their offspring-- are being targeted. 

The Rescue, T. Jefferson Parker—great book about a dog almost killed in a drug shootout, and the reporter who falls in love with him—and with his gangster owner.

Hell or High Winter, Andrew Rubin—this book may not be for everyone. Not really a mystery, more of a thriller, It’s one of the most imaginative books I’ve read in years. An update of the Greek story of Hermes and Persephone. Rubin is a brilliant writer whose scenes are magic and whose imagination never flags.

Crooks, Lou Berney—his usual, excellent book, this one about the destiny of the children of two small-time grifters. I fell in love with the characters. The Drowning Woman, Robyn Harding—very well written mystery. Homeless woman saves a woman from drowning. Book explores the backstory and how the women came to be entangled entanglement with the same man.

Kill Chain, Dominic Martell–very good international thriller. Great plot, characters, descriptions, philosophical musings. Comparable to John LeCarre. 

In a Lonely Place, Dorothy Hughes—Hughes was an early MWA Grand Master. Her books influenced the best noir writers in the business. This one gets inside the mind of a serial killer. 

When I say those were my favorites, it leaves out some very good books. Contact me through the comments section if you want more. 

And meanwhile, I hope my newest book makes a few “best of” lists. Number twelve in my Samuel Craddock series, it came out last week. The Curious Poisoning of Jewel Barnes is one of the darker books I’ve written, in which Craddock faces terrible dilemma in the book’s climax.

Fantastic Reads of 2025

Lists like this are always tricky. And by some twist of fate, I'm the first to post mine. I'll be eagerly awaiting my fellow bloggers' lists here and dutifully updating my TBR lists accordingly. Am I the only one who feels like they're never reading enough, never reading all the "right" things, never reading quite right? Maybe that's my imposter syndrome talking, which has much more claim to my "writer persona." As for my reading side, here are a few books that stuck out this year...

THE INHERITANCE

Trisha Saklecha

This book was described to me as Succession meets Knives Out, and you'd be hard pressed to find two pieces of contemporary media I love more. (It also has echoes of And Then There Were None, and that makes three.) I was captivated by this family even before the threads of the mystery began to show themselves in all their unraveling glory. The drama rolled out deliciously, and I stayed up far too late reading toward its satisfying conclusion.

A PARTICULARLY NASTY CASE

Adam Kay

After his compelling nonfiction ventures, Adam Kay really blew me away with his first foray into crime fiction. His prose is soaked with witticisms and cutting observations of human behavior, and the crime story he spins within the walls of this hospital is as gripping as it is confounding. Bonus points for a queer love story and an honest depiction of neurodivergence in its truly unique protagonist.

WITH A VENGEANCE

Riley Sager

Another mashup of cultural references I thoroughly enjoy, this book was a perfect escapist summer read. The quick pacing and keen sense of place and time kept me turning the pages, and the sharply drawn characters had me feeling like a casting director imagining the inevitable film adaptation that's sure to grace our screens soon. (For the record: Margot Robbie, Josh O'Connor, and Christoph Walz are my picks.)

EVERYONE IS LYING TO YOU

Jo Piazza

Some might say that biting social satire with a primarily female cast is my genre of choice. (I would say that. No one else is paying such close attention to what I read.) And my unhealthy fascination with "trad wife" culture naturally led me to this book, which lampoons its foibles, explores its roots, and mines its inherent intrigue for a juicy mystery. What a delight!

THE RETIREMENT PLAN

Sue Hincenbergs

I avoided this book for a bit, worried its premise was a bit far-fetched, fearing its story might be too contrived. But the compelling characters and fiercely humanist prose made this world come alive. In the end, I was carried away by a plot that would have been rendered unbelievable in the hands of a lesser storyteller. It was a thoroughly enjoyable read, a book that helped renew my flagging faith in humanity.

HIDDEN PICTURES

Jason Rekulak

This is my "genre cheat" selection, a book that would probably be more properly placed on the horror shelf. But it has at its core a compelling mystery that makes me feel justified in mentioning it here. Complete with illustrations ranging from crude to uncanny, this book tells the story of a boy possessed by a spirit hell-bent on telling the story of its own violent murder. It's not hardcore horror, for the more squeamish readers out there, but it was a great choice for spooky season this year!

MIRAGE CITY

Lev A. C. Rosen

And one rec that's the latest in an ongoing series. It's no secret that the Evander Mills books are among my favorites of recent years (I've even written about them here), and this latest installment is no exception. Rosen proves over and over again that historical crime fiction reveals more about our present day than it does about yesteryear and makes me proud to count myself as part of the queer community. And on top of all that, he writes a hell of a mystery!

Tough choices all around, and I'm sure I'm leaving off some favorites. But recommendations are fleeting fancies, like most things in life. I'm looking forward, most of all, to checking out the recs from those smarter and more well-read than I. In the meantime, though, I hope some of you enjoy a few of these titles. I know I did!

Writing Advice by Poppy Gee

How do you find other like-minded writers to form a writer's group, or become beta readers. What are the advantages or disadvantages of sharing your work prior to publication?

I’ve used informal writer critique arrangements a lot over the past few years.

But I’m going to stop.

I’ve had amazing feedback from people. I’ve learned so much. But I’m at a point where I need to write from the heart, with honesty and vulnerability, with creative freedom, and not try to write according to formulas of crime fiction, or anything else. That’s a personal decision for me.

Writer critiques groups can be wonderful, and awful. In my first writers’ group, fifteen years ago, a writer friend wrote in pen at the top of my pages: ‘A great novel breaks your heart. Your novel didn’t break my heart.’ Her words have remained with me. I’ve dwelled on this topic: How do I write a novel that will break someone’s heart? I don’t know how to.

The gist of what she was saying, was that my novel didn’t feel important to her. Not every book is for every reader. I have a thick enough skin to understand that. However, her words still haunt me.

This year I’ve had amazing feedback from different writers for my ski lodge mystery. It’s all practical advice, and very constructive. However, some precious advice came this week from my beautiful friend Michael Burge who was in Brisbane launching his novel Dirt Trap. I interviewed him at Books at Stones. Afterward, a bunch of us went for dinner at the pub next door. I confessed that I was not enjoying my proofreading/polishing of my ski lodge mystery. I said I feel like it’s crap, too boring, not crime fiction-y enough.

And he said: Poppy, you're an experienced enough storyteller to know what you’re doing with a narrative arc, yet you’re also wise enough to fear what your story is saying; but this novel need only be whatever you want it to be, and that’s all that matters. The compelling aspects of your story are its LGBT themes and the way you’ve recreated Tasmanians in the mid-1990s with all their struggles along the state’s journey to equality. Focus on them, because that’s original and it’s more than enough dark stuff of the human experience to be a crime novel. Just let these characters tell us their stories. 

That’s the kind of wise, kind and encouraging feedback that makes you want to keep writing/polishing/submitting.

I laid an egg, by Catriona

I'm not answering the QotW today. 1. Eric said it all yesterday. 2. My new book, SCOT'S EGGS, came out on Tuesday and the launch party is tonight.

details here

But I'll sort of somewhat be answering the question if I talk about some of the feedback I've had at launch parties and other readings and book events down the years, right?

The funniest ever (although I had to force myself not to laugh) was years back, in relation to The Burry Man's Day (Dandy Gilver No.2) A woman came to a library reading in the village where it's set, also village where I was born. She was hot, dishevelled and grumpy. Turned out she was halfway through the book and had spent a fruitless afternoon searching the nearby countryside for the castle where the murder took place. Unfortnately, the author's note - revealing that the real castle was a hundred miles off in a different county - was at the end of the book. I don't think I gained a fan that day.

The bridge is real

The most humbling was a few years later at Watertones' (big chain) flagship Edinburgh store. It's not really feedback but it was a strong message. There was a sign halfway up the stairs that said, in big letters, CAFE CLOSED FROM 6PM. Then in small letters it said Reading with Catriona McPherson. Finally, in medium sized font, it said Sorry for any inconvenience. I took a picture, and I've searched all my pic files for it today but can't find it. This, added to the fact of how tin-eared it was, might make me wonder if I'm misremembering, but that store had form. A year or so earlier, I was introduced thus by the then manager: "It's been a very busy day, and if you need the toilet I wouldn't advise using ours. Right, here's Catriona McPherson". He doesn't work there any more. Gone off to a career in the diplomatic service, maybe.   

Usually, the questions and feedback at launch parties are lovely. No one's read the book yet so they can't stick the knife in. That comes later in emails. One recurring question that always tickles me is "If you were going to kill your husband, how would you do it?" How. Never why. (Walk behind him on a quiet clifftop path, by the way.)

He keeps a close eye on me

By far and way, the best feedback I ever had at a book thing was during a publishing party in London. I was very dressed up. I'd had my make-up, including individual fake lashes, professionally done at a beautician's in Kensington (which is another story, actually.) Back to the party. For some reason, Helen Mirren was there. (So was Michael Palin. He touched my arm to get past me and we shared this heart-to-heart: MP: excuse me. The End.) Anyway, Dame Helen was surrounded with people stopping the likes of me from bothering her. But, as I had learned at the end of that busy day in the bookshop, everyone needs to pee. And it was when I came out of the cubicle and went to wash my hands, that I looked in the mirror and saw guess who washing hers. "Great lashes," she said, grinned and left.

They were. I pulled them off a few days later, sitting at the top of a hill in Galloway, with a flask of tea and a foil-wrapped sandwich, back in my real life. 

Cx

Thanks, but no thanks. by Eric Beetner

 How do you find other like-minded writers to form a writer's group, or become beta readers. What are the advantages or disadvantages of sharing your work prior to publication?

Well, it’s my turn to be the contrarian (again). I do not, have not, and have no plans to be a part of any writers group. I have never used beta readers, nor do I plan to. Ever.

If you want to, have at it. Whatever gets you to that last page and THE END. For me, I don’t care about input from others. 

It always sounds harsh when I bluntly lay it out like that, but it’s true. I don’t care what you think about my writing while I’m writing it. It’s still mine. Maybe the only time it ever will be. Down the line there will be notes, edits, critiques and thoughts from other minds as it goes through the publication process. Once a book is out, it belongs to the readers. Some will love it, others won’t. I can’t concern myself with that.

But while I’m in the middle of it? Hands off.

Part of this surely comes from my day job as a TV editor. I spend my whole life getting notes. Fixing things. Making adjustments large and small and often from people whose opinions I do not respect and whose notes actively make the end product worse. Such is the case with network executives and anyone working in Hollywood will tell you the same.

So my writing is mine. 

And novels are still respected in a way that screenwriting never has been. I used to go around and around with script notes, making change after change as the original story faded farther into the mist. I’ve been in pitch meetings where the new ideas start to come out before I’ve even laid out the entire plot. It’s infuriating and demoralizing.

I know writers groups are all well-meaning and supportive places allowing for a free-flowing exchange of ideas. But if I ever struggle with a plot point, or a feeling like a scene isn’t working, I feel like that is my job as the writer to solve that problem. Hell, that’s half the fun of the job. If I bring my problem to another writer and ask them to fix it, I’d feel obligated to add their name to the list of authors. Love it or hate it, if you read one of my books you can know that you are reading only my ideas and words.

Not to say that taking advice from other writers is cheating or somehow makes your book less than your own. For most people, it’s a vital part of the process to talk it out, bounce ideas around, get some fresh perspective. 

Just not for me.

I never cared for the idea of a writers room in TV. I get it. I appreciate that many great scripts have come from that process. I just like the solitude of writing. I like the lack of input. I like the ownership.

Comedy writing is different. If you can be in a room with funny people and all pitch jokes until you land on the funniest line, then the group writing process is 100% worth it. But a novel isn’t that.

I don’t have confidence in many areas of my life, but I do in my writing. I’ve never encountered a plot hole I could not fill. I don’t have structural problems that cause the whole story to collapse in the third act. I work at it to avoid those things.

I remember in a screenwriting class in college another student came up to me after class one day when I’d read my latest pages in what I was working on, and he told me that if he’d been sitting in the theater during that scene (in which someone gets a finger cut off) he would have gotten up and left.

Uh…okay. What am I supposed to do with that? Why do I care what one guy thinks? His feedback was meaningless to me because he didn’t get the story I was trying to tell. And fine. So be it. I don’t get a whole lot of stuff out there. Things that are very popular. Books and movies and TV shows, all of it. Would any of it have been any better with my input? No.  

That’s the flip side of this issue too. You don’t want my opinion just as much as I don’t want yours. If you’re stuck on a plot point and you want to commiserate and vent, then I’m here for you. But I won’t give you any ideas. The ideas should come from you. Unless we officially agree to collaborate on something, then my opinion should be worthless to you.

I worry again that this all sounds too harsh. I’ll reiterate: you do you. Stay in your group. Share and brainstorm and support each other. I’ll be over here, writing. 

Alone.

The Chef the Civilian and the Bald Bird

The Chef, the Civilian, and the Bald Bird

This essay is a reflection on feedback dynamics, not a judgment on peers’ skill. By ‘civilian,’ I mean readers who are not writers—people who engage with stories intuitively rather than technically.

How do you find like-minded writers to form a group or become beta readers? And what really happens when you share your work before publication?

I don’t belong to a writers’ group, and I’m particular about who I ask for feedback—writers or civilians. I treat feedback on a short story differently from feedback on a novel, because those forms require different muscles. A sprinter and a marathoner both run, but you wouldn’t train them the same way.

Writers think of feedback as a technical matter—developmental editing, line editing, all the gears in the engine. Do the moving parts mesh? Is the balance between exposition and dialogue working? Is there flow? Subtext? Too many information dumps? Very nerdy. Very necessary. But also not the whole story.

Let’s bring this down to the psychological level. When you ask someone for feedback, you’re not just asking for help—you’re asking for an opinion. And in the real world, an opinion is almost always a zero-sum proposition: take it or leave it. Feedback becomes a kind of transaction, and transactional exchanges are rarely honest; both sides are negotiating what they’re willing to say and what they’re willing to hear. The only real, unguarded transaction in fiction is between the author and the reader—and during that exchange, the author is absent. The work is the evidence. It stands alone.

Think of it like eating a dish. A diner takes a bite, enjoys it, and says, “This tastes good.” A chef sees technique, structure, timing—what’s balanced, what’s off, where the seasoning was too much or not enough. They’re not a civilian. They’re wired differently.

And yes, this may be why some professors write novels with brilliant ideas but lifeless execution: they know the anatomy, but they forget the heart. A writer speaks in the vocabulary another writer understands, which can be good—or distracting. Writers tend to offer solutions based on how they would write it. Civilians often can’t offer solutions at all. One group risks ego; the other risks vagueness. Both can misread intention.

Feedback from a reader is a response, but response isn’t the same as analysis. Analysis dismantles the thing. Constructive feedback tries to rebuild it. Both writer and civilian struggle for the same reason: empathy—being able to see what the work is aiming for, not what they’d cook up themselves. And even then, no two readers taste the same dish the same way. A writer can season with intention, but once the plate leaves the kitchen, the flavor belongs to the diner. Forget that, and every exchange becomes a negotiation instead of a conversation.

So I say this: don’t sit at the head of the table. The head of the table signals hierarchy: I am the Author, and you are the Reader. Tell me what I want to hear. It limits the flow of information to one direction. But when you sit in the middle of the table, metaphorically speaking, you acknowledge your own bias. You’re saying: The work must speak for me, and I am here to listen to what the evidence actually shows, not what I wish it did. Humility shifts the exchange from transactional to truthful.

Humility sharpens hearing. Perfectionism muddies it. If you pluck every feather for the sake of technical purity, you end up with a bald bird—soulless or, worse, tasteless. Precision is good; perfectonism is not.

This is why I rarely ask fellow authors to read my novels unless there’s a sensitive issue. Eyes of Deceit required insight into aspects of Judaism outside my experience. Hush Hush tackled racism and specific language. That’s when I need someone with expertise, not another novelist competing with my sentences.

What I will ask a novelist is whether the first few pages work. Those pages are the handshake with the reader. The first impression. The point where the evidence first speaks.

Short stories are different. Many novelists don’t write them well; the compression throws them. Civilians, on the other hand, can be excellent short-story readers. It’s a smaller time commitment, and they respond instinctively—no goggles o craft, no competitive baggage. They tell you what landed.

In the end, there’s no perfect beta reader, no ideal writers’ group, no universal process. Every writer and reader experiences feedback differently. This is simply one perspective on how to listen to the work itself. In my view, there’s only the work, the evidence it presents, and the humility it takes to hear it truthfully—choose your readers as a chef chooses ingredients, with care, intention, and a willingness to taste what’s actually on the plate.

 

Never Write Alone

How do you find other like-minded writers to form a writer’s group, or become beta readers? What are the advantages or disadvantages of sharing your work prior to publication.

 For me finding my writing group, the Literary Llamas, was my real entry into the writing world. Before them, I was just floundering around with a bunch of unformed ideas gathering in my head with no real place to go. Of course, I was writing before I met my writer’s group, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say, not as well. But that’s the beauty of a group we learn together.

 How did we do it though, us four brand new writers? How did we find each other? I’ll tell you it felt like magic. And I wonder if it feels that way for other writers too. That moment when you’re no longer writing alone in a vacuum without anyone around you understanding what you’re trying to do. When you are surrounded by others who not only understand your dream, but share it. Definitely magical.

  As part of my undergrad degree, I attended my very first writer’s conference. It was a local one, sponsored by Cleveland State University, called Imagination, Writing in the Slipstream, or something like that. I still have no idea what that means, but I knew there would be real writers there, who had actually had books published, who would read my work and give me my first professional feedback. It felt like a big deal and it was. It was at that writer’s conference, attended mostly by Clevelanders and students of the university, where my writer’s group found me.

 During one of our workshops, we were required to share with and accept feedback from out fellow students and a moderator. One of the writers in my group was also a fiction writer and I fell in love with her style. Over the course of the week, I found myself looking forward to her submissions above all the other participants.

To my surprise, she felt the same about my work and invited me to sit in on a meeting with her writer’s group. As luck would have it, they met in a coffee shop directly across the street from my apartment. There were four of us total. That was in 2005. Twenty years later there’s three of us still holding strong, we suffered a loss when one of our members, our dear Mary, passed away. A loss we can never see replacing. After twenty years we’re more family than friends. We know and respect each other’s writing styles, different as they may be. And, most importantly, we are honest with each, no matter how good, or bad. We all love wine and good food, and each other, so that never hurts.

 I’m sure absolutely sure that my experience wouldn’t be the experience of every writer. There was actually another writer that seemed weirdly focused on cows and farming, who asked me to join her group first. But however, you meet your group, be it a writer’s conference, a book club, class, or an advertisement on an index card in the student union (yes, my age is showing). I highly recommend getting one.

 Just be sure that your interest aligns, you respect each other’s work, and that you are at least close to being in the same neighborhood in your writing journey. As much as I love Stephen King, I don’t know if I would want to be in a writing group with him as a new author.

Your writing group, if it’s a good one, will do more than tell you where to add a period or remove a sentence. These are the people who will be there to celebrate your wins. As well as hand you a glass of wine when you suffer those inevitable disappointments. They’ll also be the ones who will tell you about that huge plot hole you didn’t see. Or point out the theme you’ve written but never noticed.

 You will not always agree, but their insights should always make you think. Remember your writer’s group cannot be there just to pat you on the head and say good job, that’s the job of your loved ones. Instead, they should be there to push you when you need a push. Help your see clearer when the cloud of indecision has engulfed your brain, and encourage you try to write just a little bit more, when you’re stuck or simply being lazy.

 I’m sure you can write without a writer’s group or a beta reader. I know plenty of people do. But I never will.

Gratitude - By Harini Nagendra

This week's topic is on gratitude. In honor of Thanksgiving, share something you're grateful for. Specifically, something that helps you do your work as a writer more effectively, efficiently, or joyfully.

I know what's on the top of my mind - gratitude for good health. I've been dealing with a family health crisis for the past few weeks - and with that getting closer to being resolved, I am very thankful, very very thankful indeed. And indeed, joyful - enough so that I'm going to be able to return to the draft of book 5 in my Bangalore Detectives Club series, which has been sitting quietly for a while, waiting for me to return. 

And bonus - I was struggling with a plot point that didn't seem anywhere near as interesting when I wrote it down, as it had seemed when I dreamt it up - indeed it was becoming somewhat laborious and uninteresting. But the short break from writing seems to have brought inspiration with it. Last night I suddenly had an idea - what if, instead of x happening to the princess, y happened instead? (yes, there is a princess, which means I also get to have fun describing the palace, and the king's birthday procession, on an elephant, and the bullock carts adorned with streamers which went house to house in 1920s Mysore, delivering sugar candy to all the residents, in honour of the special day - true story!).

So I'm also very grateful for inspiration, whenever it strikes. I'm also grateful for being able to find some time, despite all the crazyness of life, to dream up a book and write down a series of adventures that take me into a different time, a different place. I'm very grateful for my readers, for without their love and support of Kaveri, Ramu, Uma aunty, Inspector Ismail, milk boy Venu and the other members of the Bangalore Detectives Club, I wouldn't be able to write all the way from book 1 to book 5. 

I'm grateful for the books themselves, and for the stories that swirl in my head. For they are the best therapy I can think of, keeping me smiling through the rough times and the good times in these past few years.   

And most of all, I am grateful for the love and support of my family, who have been my biggest cheerleaders, keeping me going even when I think there's absolutely no way I can finish the book I'm working on - especially when I'm approaching the mid-way mark and I'm sure that this time, of all times, will be the one instance when I will be forced to admit defeat. Until... a miracle happens, and I find the way out through to the end of the book.

Happy thanksgiving week, for my friends in the US celebrating. For others, like myself in India - any time is a good time to reflect on the importance of gratitude, and the need to remind ourselves of everything we're thankful for. 

Living in the Harsh Real World vs. Escaping to a Dreamy Fictional One From Keith Raffel

Short bio:

Keith Raffel’s five acclaimed thrillers draw on his own experiences in Washington’s corridors of powers, Silicon Valley’s engineering labs, and university classrooms. The New York Times has praised his work as “worthy of a Steve Jobs keynote presentation.” Since 2023, Keith has written The Raffel Ticket, a syndicated column read in newspapers and on websites across the United States.

Author photo:

Intro:

Jim Ziskin is taking a well-deserved rest this holiday week. As a high school teacher, Jim is accustomed to turning over sacred responsibilities to questionable substitutes. This week, you’ll be hearing from Keith Raffel, who reminds Jim of the greatest substitute teacher of them all, Miss Viola P. Swamp of Harry Allard’s Miss Nelson Is Missing. 

 

Living in the Harsh Real World vs. Escaping to a Dreamy Fictional One

by Keith Raffel

When it comes to professional writing, I’ve always thought of myself as a crime novelist. The manuscript of my sixth thriller is in the hands of my literary agent.

My frenemy best buddy Jim Ziskin must think of me as a crime writer, too. Why else would he have invited me to fill in for him here in “Criminal Minds”?

And yet, when it comes to writing nowadays, I find my loyalties divided.

 Recently, I stopped dead at this sentence in Susan Orlean’s marvelous memoir Joyride: “Writers fall into two categories: There are those who have something they want to say to the world, and there are those who believe the world has something to tell them.”

Which am I?

As a crime novelist, I fall into category two. My stories start with questions, not answers. First and foremost is the question posed in Alfred Hitchcock’s greatest films: How does a regular person who’s swept up in deadly intrigue raise their game to become a hero? We’re not talking about a superhero like Spider-Man, Wonder Woman, or Superman. Think instead of everyday people like the advertising executive played by Cary Grant in North by Northwest, the high school student played by Teresa Wright in Shadow of a Doubt, or the photographer played by Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window.

Protagonists in my own books include a World War II veteran who must save the world from blowing itself up in 1962, a retired entrepreneur whose dead grandfather leaves him a message about the lost Ark of the Covenant, and a tech executive suspected of murdering a woman found in his own bed. From there, I go on with questions like:

·      What does loyalty between friends entail in a time of crisis?

·      What happens when technology outruns morality?

·      What is justice if truth is uncertain?

·      How should a patriot support their country when its government is up to no good?

I write crime fiction to discover, not announce, the answers to questions like these. Which was fine at the outset of my career as a novelist. I found the process of writing thrillers much like watching those Hitchcock films—an escape to fictional realms where justice (usually) triumphed.

But in the end, writing fiction just wasn't enough. Complete escape from IRL (real life) was impossible. I have children and grandchildren, and my wife and live on a college campus while school’s in session. Those members of Generation Z and Generation Alpha are launching themselves into a world where hunger, violence, poverty, authoritarianism, racism, antisemitism, misogyny, and unfairness flourish.

So, I started writing about the real world in occasional opinion pieces for newspapers, magazines, blogs, and websites. I had something to say to the world about gun deaths, the wisdom of women voters, rampant careerism among students, Trump's pro-Russian past, and the importance of studying the humanities. That urge to express my views grew into a compulsion. So, I bundled up some articles and sent them to Creators Syndicate. To my amazement in 2023, the team there offered me a nationally-syndicated weekly column that would be carried in newspapers and news sites around the country.

Next step? Well, this week, Creators is coming out with a collection of a hundred-plus of the essays I’ve written in the past two years.

Jim Ziskin generously volunteered to use his talents in designing the cover.

Luckily, Unfortunately, the publisher nixed Jim’s masterwork. So, it was literally back to the drawing board where Creators came up with this kick-ass alternative for The Raffel Ticket: Betting on America.

 

So far so good. And my thriller writing background seems to have paid off with early readers like Congressman Jamie Raskin, onetime law professor and floor manager for the second impeachment of Donald Trump. He said, “Keith Raffel’s experience writing thrillers has prepared him to excel as a columnist lighting up the sky with intellectual fireworks on our stranger-than-fiction politics.” I knew Andrew Heyward, former president of CBS News, was a fan of my thrillers, but I myself was thrilled when he said: “This book is your ‘Raffel ticket’ to smart, fresh, provocative and often funny takes on our times by one of my favorite writers.”

The great Lee Child didn’t mention my background as a thriller writer, but I’m sure it provided a foundation for his terrific blurb: “Keith Raffel is someone I really pay attention to — he doesn't always change my mind, but he always makes me think. We need more like him.” Count me gobsmacked.

Boston University Professor Susan Samuelson wrote, “Raffel is one of the rare opinion writers who genuinely has something new to say.” I’d guess anything distinctive in my columns can be attributed to writing in my thrillers about right versus wrong, cowardice versus courage, and troubled heroes versus triumphant villains.

It’s Thanksgiving season, and I consider myself so fortunate to live in this nation which as Lincoln reminds us, was “conceived in liberty” and “dedicated to the proposition” that all are “created equal.” And like him, I believe it is up to each of us to ensure that “government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” Even if—as it so often seems—I’m spitting in the wind, I had to spend more time in this world and at least attempt to help repair it. What I write in The Raffel Ticket reflects that urgency.

But in conclusion, it’s important to tell you I still find time to escape to the fictional worlds of writing and reading crime fiction.

Happy holidays to you all,

Keith

P.S. Jim, thanks much for giving me the chance to write for “Criminal Minds.”

Note: You can follow Keith on the web at keithraffel.com or on instagram @keithraffelwrites. The Raffel Ticket: Betting on America is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Google Books, Apple Books, and bookstores everywhere.