

Google Giggles and Guilt
Mystery writers have to research the strangest things. I'm not the paranoid sort, but sometimes I wonder what the powers that be would think if they were reviewing my google history. I suspect the average citizen isn't simultaneously interested in: how long it would take a body to decompose to a skeleton; how to audition for a commercial; the wholesale vs. retail price of cocaine; current Toronto street gangs; and the criminal charges for indignity to a human body. Oh yeah, a


Genre identity disorder and the writer
I like to think of all writers' creative DNA as a brick wall. No, no, not the one you hit when you run out of juice—this one is blank when you look at it, but it's made up of all of your experiences, brick by brick. I started my wall at a young age. I have always written. I forgot how much, until I went through a box of childhood items my parents had kept for me and found my attempts at grade school newspapers, magazines . . . I even attempted a novel circa age eleven. My par