Shallows

I wanted to feel powerful and look cool like the other surfers in the water who made it look ridiculously easy. How hard could it be, really?

Hard. Impossibly, embarrassingly hard.

I paddled out convinced my body knew what to do. It didn't. The board went one way, I went another, and a wave held me under longer than I thought possible. I came up panicked and disoriented. I wrote an article about it called The Un-Zen of Surfing, because there was nothing peaceful about any of it. I wanted to look brave. Instead I looked unsuited for that terrain. That's because I was meant for another.

Undertow

Years later, on my honeymoon, I tried again. My first SCUBA lesson, another opportunity to prove myself.

My husband - a certified diver - said he’d be right beside me the whole time. But when the instructor needed another experienced diver, he disappeared into the silty fog, leaving me to face the descent alone. Sixteen feet under, encased in fifty pounds of gear, every breath felt forced. I bailed, surfaced, never so relieved to see the light.

Depth

I was never going to be a deep-water person. Not that kind of deep water, anyway.

I still love the ocean. When I stand at its shirttails, it feels like a hand comes out and drags me forward — in my yoga pants and sneakers, pulling me up to my thighs, making me beam and feel alive. What's the fun in being practical? For me, the real diving happens on the page, hunting for what my characters bury — in themselves, in their families, beneath the mask they show the world.

My dark water was sixteen feet off a honeymoon reef. My protagonist's is an oil-drilling outpost north of the Arctic Circle, where the sun doesn't shine for six months. Where did the light go?

It’s Here!

Gree Gooding might be the character who's taken the most from me. She'd already lost her mother, then her husband vanished. It happens again, this time it’s her boss and mentor, her final tether to a normal life. Not broken, she’s more dogged than ever, chasing answers to scarier questions than a missing sheriff. Her husband discovered a treacherous secret and disappeared before he could expose it. Now his quest becomes hers.

If I’m honest, her antagonist is probably the culmination of everyone who’s ever wronged me. And isn’t that what deep, immersive fiction is supposed to do? Balance pace and stakes with psychological depth. I hope I got that right in this book. You can read it and let me know.

"Reading this book felt like watching a slow-motion avalanche: quiet, heavy, and utterly unyielding." — Literary Titan

Watch the Trailer: https://youtube.com/shorts/Lsk3ukWkA6k

Get it here: https://a.co/d/0dwFySYm

Authors Sarah Lovett and Ron Schultz joined me on the Story Impact Podcast to discuss their geopolitical thriller Metal Viper — set in Myanmar, where a child's poem becomes a death sentence and an intrepid investigator refuses to let a regime silence a single voice. We also explore how fiction has the power to challenge oppression.

Watch the episode on YouTube, or listen on your favorite podcast platforms.

None of this happens alone. Author-friends, trusted industry partners, and media supporters showing up just when I need them — so grateful.

Last month on our annual vacation, Barnes & Noble in Maui hosted me for another booksigning event. Earlier this week I was interviewed by Karen E. Osborne on her podcast about The Weight of Cold Things, and I hosted a TikTok LIVE with authors Ana Manwaring and T.E. MacArthur.

Coming up: Podcast interview with Sheri Hoyt of Reader Views and a radio interview on August 10th with Marcia Macomber, host of The Morning Show on KSVY 91.3 FM.

After all the signings and interviews, it’s still just me, my imagination, and my fingers on the keyboard dreaming of the ocean. And somewhere between arrogance and humility, there's always been a sky steady enough to bring me back to center.

Turns out, I was never afraid of depth. I was just standing in the wrong water.

Lisa