Toes. Also, an Awesome Mystery Novel

by Stephanie Black

In Rob’s blog yesterday, he asked for fresh ideas for how to plot a novel or—this is a direct quote—“a kick in the butt.” I’d love to oblige him in the latter request, and will file it away for the next time I see him, along with a note to borrow my daughter’s heavy cop boots. If you’re going to land a good kick to the patoot, you might as well do it right, but truth is, I have no doubt that by the time I see him, Rob will be back in the swing of plotting and writing another incredible novel and won’t need the motivation. Not that there wouldn’t be plenty of other reasons to kick a smart-mouthed-Mafia-Wars-addicted-MBA punk.

Speaking of heavy-duty foot protection, I could have used some the other day. There I was, walking to the park with my preschooler daughter and a friend and her daughter. It was a cheery sort of sunny day, and I was wearing sandals. Upon crossing the street, I sort of miscalculated—wasn’t paying attention well enough, apparently—and wham! I slammed my big toe into the concrete curb. This involved a certain degree of pain and blood, though, for the record, I didn’t swear. Truly, you have no idea how much force you put into taking a normal step until some obstacle gets in your way. I thought I might have broken the toe, but by the next day it was feeling much less sore. Now it’s just—never mind, I won’t describe it on a family blog, because it’s a little icky. The moral to the story is watch where you’re going. Or wear boots.

Speaking of toe injuries, you know how when your feet are cold—somehow it hurts worse when they’re cold—and you splinch your toes on the leg of a chair? I hate that. Then there was the time when I was squeezing my way past my family seated on the pew at church, and I inadvertently stepped on my teenage daughter’s foot with the wooden heel of my shoe and really ground it in (not maliciously, of course. Honest.) It was in the middle of the meeting and she didn’t want to scream, so she just had to sit there with her eyeballs bulging out of her head. No wonder she’s so fond of those heavy boots now.

Okay, sorry. I’ll stop telling injured foot stories. Instead I’ll tell you that I just read Josi Kilpack’s new mystery novel, Lemon Tart, and it was awesome. When Sadie Hoffmiller’s neighbor, Anne Lemmon, is found murdered, Sadie is determined to figure out who killed her. The police want her to keep her nose out of the investigation, but feisty Sadie can't bring herself to just sit back--not when she's a suspect herself, and not when people she cares about might very well be involved in the crime. Josi Kilpack has crafted a wonderfully intricate mystery, filled with twists and turns. I’ll be really impressed if someone tells me they figured out the villain before he/she was revealed, because I sure didn’t. If you haven't had a chance to read Lemon Tart, grab a copy at the first opportunity.