My newsroom mysteries kill off editors .. but corporations are killing off journalists far faster

Sometimes I miss working at a newspaper. I miss the interviews.  I miss finding the stories. I miss the writing. I even miss the burned coffee and the crazy hours.

One day, I missed it so much I made up my own newsroom. I staffed it with a bunch of quirky creative types, and then I developed my hero - a reporter who was extra nosy and particularly vigilant about covering the news.

Then I ... well, I knocked off an editor. Fictionally speaking, of course. I wrapped it all up into a murder mystery, and readers seemed to enjoy it, which I very much appreciated. So I'm writing a sequel.

They're a little far-fetched, of course. But writing them makes me feel good. I actually feel in touch with the industry - to write my stories, I have to stay abreast with what's happening in real life.

Then I read stories like the one I read this week - about so many hard-working, dedicated journalists at the Times-Picayune who've been cast aside like yesterday's news. And I realize you don't really need my mysteries to read about murder in the newsroom.

Corporations  - working in the name of progress - are killing off newspapers far faster in real life.

The History of Me

I once worked for an editor who spent her weekends at Renaissance fairs, dressed as a princess and carrying her two ferrets around in a basket.

I once worked for a publisher who used to nervously tap his testicles in board meetings.

And I once worked for a section editor who used to use words like "conversate," and tell me that my story ideas had "passed mustard," instead of "passed muster."

I didn't kill any of them. Just for the record. You know, in case you ever have to testify on my behalf. That's not why I wrote "Death on Deadline." No, I wrote my soon-to-be-published novel, "Death on Deadline" because of the the zucchini bread. See, at one of the newspapers where I worked, I remember I came in from an assignment one day to find a gaggle of reporters gathered around a table, wolfing down on a loaf of zucchini bread. I helped myself to a slice. It was, in fact, delicious.

"Wow, where did this come from?" I asked the circle. Everyone shrugged, their mouths filled with crumbs. No one had any idea. It was then I realized that if someone wanted to off a group of journalists, the easiest way to do it - aside from poisoning the local liquor supply - would likely be to slide some nasty food their way because, let's face it - if it's there and it's free, reporters will eat it.

So is that enough of a premise for a book? No, of course not, silly. But that, combined with 17 years of working with quirky reporters, ferret-loving editors and testicle-tapping publishers just might be.

So I decided to give it a try. "Death on Deadline" is a murder mystery that takes place in a newsroom, and it's funny. Except for the whole murder part. But still. And it's all fiction, so if you worked with me, and you think I gave you the stink eye the whole time, don't worry, you're not in there. THIS time.

So, I hope you like it and yeah, I hope you buy it. And if you don't, that's okay, too. Because I'm guessing if you're checking out this blog, you're probably a writer, and you're probably watching your pennies. But regardless, I hope you like the posts; feel free to add your own thoughts about writing. Anything motivational is always welcome, believe me. And if you used to work in newspapers, share a story or two. Because you know what? I still miss them. And all the free food.