Happy Thanksgiving from the Deadly Daughters

Poe’s Deadly Daughters are collectively thankful for another year of blogging and enjoying our ongoing conversation with you, our readers. Here are our individual messages in celebration of the day.

Elizabeth Zelvin
The term “Turkey Day” has taken on new meaning since I spent the summer driving daily to the beach along a road on which I could usually count on seeing anywhere from one to seven wild turkeys. They were introduced into the wild (if you can call East Hampton wild) more than a year ago. Our first exposure to them was having to wait for a turkey mom and twenty-seven babies to cross the road. Now the survivors are plump and handsome, and seeing them always put a grin on my face. With Thanksgiving approaching, they’ve made themselves scarce, which suggests they’re smart as well as goodlooking. For me, the day is not just about the food, but a time to give thanks for much abundance: my health, in spite of a year that included root canal and gum surgery; my loved ones, including two adorable granddaughters; my mystery books and six new stories published this year; new creative opportunities, notably recording songs I’ve written over several decades for a CD that I hope will be out next year; and my friends, colleagues, and readers in and out of the wonderful mystery community.

Julia Buckley
Here's a list of ten things I'm thankful for:

1. The scent of fall in the air, and the way that scent subtly changes when the holidays approach.

2. The beautiful images that nature gives me each day, like this imprint of a leaf on the concrete in our alley. It reminds me of a Japanese painting.

3. My wonderful boys, who provide so much life and laughter in our house.

4. My hard-working husband; we often have days where one of us merely gets to say good-bye as the other heads out the door, but we still manage to appreciate each other.

5. My menagerie of pets: a dog (see "The Ignominious Hound" post), three cats, and an amazingly long-lived fish.

6. Our solid roof. Not one leak in the last twelve years (when it was put on).

7. My sense of humor. No matter how bad the day, it's always lurking beneath the surface of a surly mood.

8. Music. I love it--all kinds.

9. Books, of course. Mysteries best of all.

10. And, in the spirit of the season, I'm grateful for eggnog. It really hits the holiday spot (as do pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, gingerbread cookies, chestnut stuffing . . . so many foods to be thankful for!)

And p.s.--like Liz, I'm thankful for the other Deadly Daughters and for all the readers of this blog.

Sharon Wildwind

I’ve taken lots of prettier photographs, but this is one for which I’m thankful.

I make art in chaos, amid plastic boxes full of cloth and art supplies, projects in progress stored in woven baskets, inspirational photos and sayings tacked on bulletin boards, and generally odd but pretty things like strings of Mardi-Gras beads, an African necklace, and sun catchers suspended from windows and hooks. What I lack most is open space.

A couple of years ago I dedicated half the top of one IKEA wooden shelf set to NOTHING. Leave this space open. I never realized before how having one dedicated open space could make life so much easier.

When I take down a heavy box of cloth to get at the box underneath it, I have a place to set it down. Ditto when I need a place to rummage in the ephemera box for the right doo-dad to add to a card. If I’m staging tabletop photography I have safe place to put the camera between shots. If I have an important letter that I must mail today it’s clearly visible when I get ready to leave the house.

This Thanksgiving I’m grateful for space. The computer space where I write. The desk space where I journal. The project table space where I play. The space in the day to meditate and exercise. The space in the commons area outside my window that’s filled with trees, rabbits, and squirrels. And especially my little nothing space that opens up the space for all the others to be.

Blessed be, everyone.

Sheila Connolly

Plimoth Plantation

Since I live only a few miles from Plymouth, where it all began (unless you're one of those Jamestown people who think otherwise), it's hard not to be aware of Thanksgiving. The local cranberries are harvested, and the farmers markets—still going on through the fall and winter—abound with butternut squash.

It has been a good year for me as a writer—three books out (and my first short story!), some great conferences attended and even managed. I am always grateful that I have a terrific agent and a major publisher, because I know how coveted both are, and how many talented people are trying hard to acquire either, much less both. And more to the point, I still love writing, and I'm still learning. Along the way I've collected a great group of writer friends, both virtual and real (they're the ones standing in front of me at any given moment).

I'm grateful that my husband works for the U.S. government, so his job is as steady as they come these days. I'm grateful our daughter is both employed and making plans for her future (that doesn't involve living under our roof, although we love having her around!).

I guess I'm a glass-half-full person. Sure, the house is a perpetual mess, the roof leaks, the wind whistles through the foundation; the average age of our cars is 14, and their total mileage is about half a million. But we're all reasonably healthy and more or less sane, and that's good enough for me.

Happy Thanksgiving!


Sandra Parshall

I'm grateful that Broken Places, my first book in three years, was so well received and that readers hadn't forgotten my characters.

I'm grateful that neither of our cats had a near-death experience this year.


I'm grateful that my recovery from knee replacement surgery was unusually quick and easy, making me wonder why I put it off and suffered for so long.

After living through two blizzards in the DC area last winter, I'm grateful that the La Nina effect will protect us from such catastrophic weather this coming winter. (Would you like to hear about our new roof and gutters and the neighbors' massive pine tree that fell into our yard during one of the blizzards? No? I understand.)

As someone who has to get on an airplane occasionally, I'm grateful that the TSA is trying to protect us!

Lonnie Cruse

I'm thankful to those who fought for this country so that I can enjoy the freedoms they risked their lives for. I'm thankful for my familly and friends, for their love and support. I'm thankful that my sometimes rambling thoughts have been published, both the fiction and the non-fiction, allowing me to share those thoughts and in some cases actually get paid for it. Most of all, I'm thankful for an awesome God, to lean on, to trust in, and for hope of the future. Over all, I'm just plain thankful. Pass the dressing, please!