POE'S DEADLY DAUGHTERS

by Sheila Connolly Earlier this week the top headline (above the fold on the front page) in the Boston Globe read, “For majority of wor...

by Sheila Connolly Peter O’Toole, who died earlier this week, changed my life. No, I never met the man or had any other form of cont...

by Sheila Connolly I love flea markets and farmers markets and junk sales and antiques fairs, because I never know what I’m going to f...

by Sheila Connolly (aka Sile ni Conghaile) I write a mystery series set in Ireland.   Sometimes I think it’s presumptuous of me to pre...

by Sheila Connolly I love to visit bookstores.   You know, the real ones, in buildings.   My family trained me well:   we used to go to D...

by Sheila Connolly I’m supposed to be starting to write a new book, with a deadline of February 1.   But “starting” is such a slippery t...

by Sheila Connolly (or maybe today it's Sile ni Conghaile) Tá lá atá inniu ann lá Bhríde . Today is the feast day of St. ...

by Sheila Connolly Recently I read an op-ed piece in the New York Times written by Sean Pidgeon, a writer as well as a reference publis...

by Sheila Connolly I had a nice thoughtful piece about plotting all ready to go, and then I had one of those "duh!" moments:...

by Sheila Connolly Henry David Thoreau once wrote, "Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify, simplify!   I...

by Sheila Connolly I live in a mid-sized town (population 22,000, more or less) in what is defined as a rural area.   And it is bright...