I admit it: I wrote ads for a living. Most of my TV spots were crap, but a handful were at least amusing. Like my gargling toilets using what we called breath mints (for Clorox.) Or my cat who had to hire a bloodhound to find his Fresh Step litter box because the odor control worked too darn well. Or my Clio-nominated spot for SOS in which dirty pots and pans clanged out Morse-code cries for help. As a fiction author, I’ve committed several crime novels, two of which snagged local awards. But I had accomplices: my critique group. Their sharp eyes and sharper wits are an essential part of my writing process.

It almost always starts with an idea. For Voices in the Night, as one example, it started when I learned that when mobile phones were first offered, there was a whole community of hobbyists who were using radio scanners to spy on those phone conversations. I began thinking about one guy who was doing that. Putting myself inside his head, I asked myself Why would this man have this hobby? And what would make for a compelling story? In the process, I discovered who he was, his painful backstory, and the complication that the people he was listening to were being brutally murdered--by someone else with the same hobby.