One of the toughest things for me about writing a cozy mystery series is the need to know quite a few important things about upcoming books…before they’ve been written. Editors want a synopsis that describes the characters, plot, and setting with as many juicy pertinent details as possible. Before cozies, when I sat down to write I didn’t have a clue beyond a character I wanted to get to know, a setting I wanted to explore, and a problem I wanted to solve.

I discover my stories as I write, with all the dead ends, U-turns, and hidden byways that entails. Characters morph on the page sharing their hidden secrets and motivations bit by bit. They do unexpected things for unanticipated reasons. They’re coming out of my mind, but they have minds of their own.

With mysteries, I do my best to figure out who is going to die and who will be the killer. There’s a problem with that: characters gonna do what characters wanna do. Some have no intention of dying on the page. Some are far too likable to turn out to be the killer. Some are sneakier than I imagine, darker than I anticipated, harboring anti-social tendencies of which I was completely unaware when the story began. Some characters must refrain from killing because my writing group will never forgive me if they turn out to be killers.

For me, that blank first page is the beginning of a journey of discovery. I’m Lewis and Clark setting off to explore the frontier beyond the mighty Missouri, but far less prepared. The short synopsis I wrote for my publisher is a guide, not a map. Along the way, my boat will be swamped. Someone will steal my horse. I will learn more about flora and fauna than I wanted to. I will run out of food (worse yet, coffee) and need to rely on the goodwill of natives who really just wish I would go home and free up a table for a paying customer.

I will tie myself into Gordian knots and work as stubbornly as an ox to unloose them. I will meet new friends and make new enemies. More than one of them will hit me on the head or push me down a flight of stairs. In the end, I will reach my destination, but it won’t be the one I charted a path to. I will be very very tired…and ecstatically happy. I will know more about myself and the human condition, because that is the one and only reason I write anything at all.