It was March 19, 2020, and I was in San Diego at the Left Coast Crime Convention. I was just leaving my first (or maybe second) panel discussion when an announcement came over the loud speakers. The conference was being cancelled. The governor had just shut down the state. I grabbed my bags and headed for home.

During lockdown a lot of authors shut down just like the country. Their stories dried up. They were too distracted by the pandemic and all it’s accompanying fears to write. 

Not me. Writing became my sanity. 

There are two basic ways people deal with difficulties. Some are internal processors. They need to sit quietly and think things through. This is the kind of person I wish I was. 

I am the second kind, however. I’m an external processor. Often, I don’t really know what I think about things until I get them out of my brain into the atmosphere. 

Thankfully for my husband, I’m also a writer. Talking works, but so does writing. It’s saved our marriage. He can only handle so much of my mental meanderings. 

Anyway, back to 2020. I was sure, like the rest of you, that this whole pandemic thing would be over in a hot minute. As the weeks of isolation dragged on, however, I realized I was going to have to do something with the growing fear within. 

At the time, I was wrapping up book five or six of a seven book psychological suspense series now titled The Almost True Crime Series. It’s written as a if its a true crime podcast with each book representing one season of the show. My podcaster, Molly Shure, delves into the minds of the killers, trying to understand the “whys” behind the crimes. This is a topic that fascinates me, but it’s a little on the dark side. 

In the middle of COVID, with all the darkness that it brought, I felt the need for something lighter and brighter. Being the kid that did NOT pull the covers over my head when something went bump in the night, I knew I had to tackle the current zeitgeist head on. I had to find the lighter side of death.

Coincidentally, my daughter had recently introduced me to a YouTube channel—The Ask a Mortician Show. Caitlin Doughty, an actual mortician, was funny and real and so, so interesting. She tackled topics like embalming procedures for people who’d died in various gruesome ways, strange burial rituals from around the globe, and why green burials were the wave of the future.

She, I thought, would make an excellent amateur sleuth. But how or why would a mortician be privy to things the authorities weren’t? By the time she got her hands on a corpse, medical and law enforcement professionals would have already investigated if an investigation was warranted. 

Then, I remembered a conversation I’d had at the salon back in the good old days when we were allowed to groom ourselves. A stylist told me about another stylist who moonlighted in mortuaries doing hair for the dead. 

What if my character got a request to style a deceased client for that client’s funeral? What if she discovered a hitherto unknown talent when she did? What if she could feel the final emotions or sensations of that person when she touched their hair? And what if the person demanded justice by haunting my main character until the murderer was exposed?

That had legs. I had an interesting protagonist with an interesting gift, a reason she would know things the police and coroner wouldn’t, and most importantly, a reason for her to encounter lots of dead people. No shade on Miss Marple, I love those stories, but the murder rate in St. Mary Meed was hard to swallow. 

Thus To Dye For, book one in The Mortician Murders was born. I’m currently writing book nine in Imogene Lynch’s story. She’s found more than a gift and a slew of murderers. She’s found family, a legacy of power, an arch enemy in the Orange County Medical Examiner, and an evil cult she must ultimately confront. She’s also found love with Greener Pastures Mortuary’s hunky night watchman, Elmore Leonard Brown, who later in the series becomes an Orange County Sheriff. 

The Mortician Murder world has been a respite for me from the tumult of the 2020s. The scary things Imogene has braved have helped me face my own fears during COVID and beyond. Through her, I’ve discovered a secret weapon—laughter. As hyperbolic as it might sound, writing this series has taught me that embracing the lighter side of death helps to diffuse the power of darkness. 

Viva la Cozy Mystery!