Cover Reveal For A Long Stretch of Bad Days + Giveaway!

Releasing March 14, 2023!

Lydia Chass doesn’t mind living in a small town; she just doesn’t want to die in one. A lifetime of hard work has put her on track to attend a prestigious journalism program and leave Henley behind—until a school error leaves her a credit short of graduating. Undeterred, Lydia has a plan to earn that credit: transform her listener-friendly local history podcast into a truth-telling exposé. She’ll investigate the Long Stretch of Bad Days: a week when Henley was hit by a tornado and a flash food as well as its first—and only—murder, which remains unsolved.

But Lydia needs help to bring grit to the show. Bristal Jamison has a bad reputation and a foul mouth, but she also needs a credit to graduate. The unexpected partnership brings together the Chass family—a pillar of the community—and the rough-and-tumble Jamisons, with Bristal hoping to be the first in her family to graduate. Together, they dig into the town’s worst week, determined to solve the murder.

Their investigation unearths buried secrets: a hidden town brothel, lost family treasure, and a teen girl who disappeared. But the past is never far, and some don’t want it to see the light. As threats escalate, the girls have to uncover the truth before the dark history of Henley catches up with them.

This gripping mystery from award-winning author Mindy McGinnis shows the power of a name and one lie and how two girls can use their voices to change a town forever

Robert Steven Goldstein on Inspiration

Inspiration is a funny thing. It can come to us like a lightning bolt, through the lyrics of a song, or in the fog of a dream. Ask any writer where their stories come from and you’ll get a myriad of answers, and in that vein I created the WHAT (What the Hell Are you Thinking?) interview. Always including in the WHAT is one random question to really dig down into the interviewees mind, and probably supply some illumination into my own as well.

Today’s guest for the WHAT is Robert Steven Goldstein, a critically acclaimed author, taps into his childhood experiences with a dysfunctional family to interrogate the bond between loved ones and what it takes to mend broken relationships. Goldstein’s deep love for art and creativity is reflected in his vibrant cast of characters as they each find their own path to self-discovery, even if that means choosing themselves over family.

Ideas for our books can come from just about anywhere, and sometimes even we can’t pinpoint exactly how or why. Did you have a specific origin point for your book?

For my new novel Will’s Surreal Period, there was, indeed, a brief twinkle of inspiration. It stemmed from an article I read about a sculptor who had developed a unique style of work which was much admired—only to learn that the artistic style was actually the product of a life-threatening brain tumor. The only way for the artist to save his life was to have the tumor removed—but that would have meant sacrificing his art as well. According to the article, the artist had not yet made a decision about what to do.

Once the original concept existed, how did you build a plot around it?

 That heart wrenching dilemma about the artist and the brain tumor was just the kernel of an idea. The story for Will’s Surreal Period now needed to be fleshed out, other characters with their own problems and paths needed to be dreamed up, and a real plot needed to be created. That’s the point for me where the twinkle of inspiration gives way to some real work. I don’t know how other writers do it—I suppose some mark up index cards, or make copious notes, or create some verbal equivalent of a storyboard. I must confess, though, that I don’t do anything quite so concrete. I just go into a sort of writer’s trance and ponder obsessively for a week or two—sometimes sitting around, sometimes hiking with my dog, sometimes showering or shaving or eating, and even sometimes when I’m ostensibly focusing on something that I really need to (like a conversation with my wife about an upcoming social engagement—in which case it never takes her long to figure out that my mind is someplace else). My internal process for the story always starts with the characters. When a few of those have finally materialized, relatively firmly in my mind, I then work through the barest outline of a plot. That’s really all I need to start writing.

Have you ever had the plot firmly in place, only to find it changing as the story moved from your mind to paper?

I actually never have the plot firmly in place! I think if I did, I’d find the act of writing tedious. For me, the pleasure of writing is figuring it out as I go, letting the last incident I dreamed up lead to another and another. Some years ago, I wrote a novel that had a bit of a murder mystery in it, and I honestly didn’t know who did it or how it would be resolved until I got there. I suppose there are spirited pros and cons to such an approach, but for me, one very good thing was that it kept me as curious and engaged along the way as I hoped my readers would be.

Do story ideas come to you often, or is fresh material hard to come by?

Big ideas, those that can actually serve as the kernel for a new book, don’t come to me often at all. But little ideas—what will happen next in the story, what new character might suddenly pop up in this chapter, what unexpected twists do I now envision down the road—those manifest constantly, but only when I’m actively writing.

How do you choose which story to write next, if you’ve got more than one percolating?

It’s hard enough for me to get one good idea for a book percolating. Which is probably for the best, because novels take a good while to churn out—there’s a relatively finite number of them that I’m going to wind up producing in my life—so the kernel of an idea for a book becomes a very important decision. The fact that I rarely have more than one at my disposal at any given time is probably a blessing—no need to agonize over which to pick—and no torturous second-guessing, months later, that I’ve been toiling over the wrong idea for the past two hundred pages.

I have 6 cats and a Dalmatian (seriously, check my Instagram feed) and I usually have at least one or two snuggling with me when I write. Do you have a writing buddy, or do you find it distracting?

My big old dog Cali, a ten-year-old Akita Inu and Blue Heeler mix, is sprawled out on the couch in my office at this very moment, watching intently as I type. I think she somehow realizes that although there is no dog in Will’s Surreal Period—two of the main characters do own a cat…

Life Lessons from Growing up on a Farm

by Carolyn Dallman

Faster and faster, my brothers and I tossed hay from upper bins of the loft to the middle bin, then down the chute. The sooner we finished this task, the sooner we could begin jumping from the upper bin to the lower bin, like a trampoline.  Our play started with random jumps, but soon escalated to challenges: side jumps, butt jumps, belly flops, maybe a somersault … until the landing pad became packed solid and touchdowns hurt.

Hard work and hard play went hand-in-hand on our farm in North Freedom, Wisconsin, during the 1950s. This concept was likely instilled in children living in cities during the 1950s as well. However, the differences between living in cities and living on family farms were the unique tasks associated with farm life and experiencing the intricacies of operating a dairy farm. My parents taught these skills to my brothers and me by example, not by telling.

Daily tasks were assigned, but we were expected to adapt to specific situations. For example, the process of feeding our dairy cows changed with the seasons. When pastures were green with grass, cows did not need that forkful of hay at their stanchions. With their bellies full, cows were not inclined to return to the barn twice daily for milking. However, a scoop of ground feed on top of a mound of silage enticed the animals into the barn.

During long Wisconsin winters, huge mounds of hay were needed to supplement the green grass missing from the cows’ diets. (Each animal needed a bathtub full of hay each day.) These changes in feeding our dairy cows did not happen abruptly. Rather, the amount of hay, silage and ground feed were adjusted according to weather conditions. My brothers and I learned how to make these adjustments without directions from dad or mom.

We learned about planting and harvesting. Crops were rotated annually to naturally enrich the soil. I did not fully understand the reasoning behind this until I was in high school, studying earth science and biology.

Nitrogen-rich soil from our legume crops of alfalfa and clover was fertilizer for eventual fields of corn. Alfalfa was planted with oats. Oats grew fast, turning a rich golden color before the summer harvest. This allowed green alfalfa to continue growing in the same field and producing a crop of late summer hay. The following spring alfalfa sprang up to a bright green crop of hay in that same field. It could be harvested as many as three times during the summer. The following spring, that nitrogen-rich soil was tilled and became fertilizer for our newly planted corn.

Our equipment was not new. It worked well enough, but it was not unusual for something to break down. My brothers and I watch as dad did the repair, and we were ready and willing to collect tools that dad might need. Sometimes we were asked to assist with the repair under dad’s watchful eye. I learned how important it is to return tools to their proper place so they would be readily available the next time something broke.

Perseverance and the ability to adapt to unique situations came from those childhood experiences on the farm. I saw dad and mom go through myriad situations where they needed to adapt. I saw their work ethic and the methodical ways they accomplished tasks. They did not explain these things to me. It was a way of life absorbed into me through their examples.

Their examples carried me through coming-of-age moments when I had to stand on my own two feet. It gave me strength through the challenging years of raising a family. It gave me confidence in my professional career.

The diversity of tasks learned on our family farm served as important resources for me and continues to have a positive impact as I celebrate having my debut book, North Freedom, published.

Upon hearing a story of his grandmother’s childhood, Carolyn’s 7-year-old grandson said, “Grandma, you are so lucky. I can’t do those things. Life is different today.” The conversation with her grandson concerned Carolyn. Was the childhood of the baby boomer generation being lost? Could she use childhood memories to preserve the way of life she had experienced?

North Freedom is a collection of over 60 interrelated, nonfiction stories blending a variety of characters, activities and events that dynamically move on the static landscape of the village and the farm.