Writing from the Heart

Do I write for myself or for the reader? Unless I’m writing in my personal journal, my goal is always publication, so it’s essential that I write for the reader. To do that, I have to connect with readers on a personal level, and that means I must be passionate about what I write. For me, separating those two ideas isn’t possible. The challenge is finding the right balance between them.

When I keep my reader in mind, I imagine someone who shares my interests, humor, passions, and sensibilities. Whether I’m writing a book, an article, or a blog post, I strive to create something I would want to read myself. I’ve always believed that readers can sense authenticity. They know when a writer is genuinely invested in the subject matter and when the writing is driven only by market trends or expectations. Passion gives writing energy and sincerity, and sincerity is what creates connection.

Looking back over my writing career, I realize that has always been my guiding principle. Every opportunity I pursued stemmed from curiosity, enthusiasm, and a desire to share experiences or ideas that mattered to me personally.

Before I began writing fiction, I freelanced for magazines. At the time, I was living in Austin, Texas, when I was invited to become a staff writer for AustinFit, an outdoor travel and adventure magazine. I immediately accepted because I could choose my own topics, which included all kinds of outdoor activities: running, biking, hiking, exploring, and even water sports such as scuba diving and canoeing. The assignment never felt like work because I was writing about activities I genuinely loved. More than seventy articles later, I became a contributor to Texas Highways magazine, where I again had the freedom to select subjects that interested me. At the same time, I was teaching middle school science and had the opportunity to contribute chapters to a state middle school science textbook—another dream job. None of this would have been possible if I hadn’t been able to pour my heart and soul into my work.

The same passion guided the biography I wrote, The Man Who Saved the Whooping Crane: The Robert Porter Allen Story. I felt this story needed to be told. It chronicles the fight to save the endangered whooping crane and the ornithologist who helped bring the species back from the brink of extinction—a monumental achievement that eventually influenced the passage of the Endangered Species Act two decades later. Robert Porter Allen, working with the National Audubon Society, traveled across America, inspiring people to care about conservation in a way they never had before. The race to save the great white bird became an extraordinary adventure story. What drew me most to the story was not only the environmental significance but also the human determination behind it. Allen’s perseverance reminded me that one passionate individual truly can make a difference.

The same is true of my fiction. My modus operandi has always been to write the kinds of books I love to read: mysteries featuring strong female protagonists. My Sydney Lockhart mysteries, which recently won the 2025 PenCraft Award for best mystery series, follow a young woman trying to make it as a private detective in a man’s world in the 1950s. They are humorous, lighthearted cozies, and I enjoy writing them because I genuinely enjoy reading that genre. When readers tell me they laughed out loud while reading one of my books, I know I’ve succeeded. Humor, after all, creates its own bond between writer and reader.

With my Kate Caraway Animal-Rights Mysteries, I wanted to share my passion for animal welfare, inspired by my work with Wildlife Rescue in Austin, where I help care for injured and orphaned wildlife. Through those stories, I hoped not only to entertain readers but also to educate them about important animal-rights issues. Fiction can be a powerful way to open readers’ eyes to causes they may never have considered, especially when the message grows naturally from the story and characters.

In the end, I need the act of creation to provide me with a meaningful personal experience, but I also hope the reader gains something from it. The most satisfying writing happens when both writer and reader come away fulfilled—when I’ve expressed something meaningful, and the reader has discovered something that resonates. That shared experience is what keeps me writing and what continues to make the process so rewarding.

Book Blub for Murder at the Faust

By Kathleen Kaska

Can Sydney be in two places at once? In a case of duplicity and deception, Sydney Lockhart and Ralph Dixon travel to the Faust Hotel in New Braunfels, Texas, where Milton Sweetwater checked in and disappeared soon after. When the hotel maid discovered a bloody scene in his room, and Police Chief McAllen found Sweetwater’s body on the bank of the Guadalupe River, guess who was called in for questioning?

Sydney fears her past has come back to haunt her, and only a flimsy motive keeps her out of jail. With Dixon still recovering from a gunshot wound, young Lydia LaBeau and Cousin Ruth Echland arrive uninvited to help unravel the mystery. However, Lydia becomes interested in birdwatching with her new friend. Ruth, undercover as a Miss Texas contestant, gets too involved in the pageant to focus on the investigation. To make matters worse, a dead body is found in Sydney’s apartment, and Lydia disappears. Yet hope appears in the form of a mermaid and a Bible-thumping zealot.

Will the real Sydney Lockhart please stand up?

(This was originally posted in D.J. Adamson’s newsletter.)