There's a coffeeshop in my neighborhood that's a portal to a secret underworld. Follow me, I'll show you.

The Interior Landscape

There's this coffeeshop in my neighborhood — Zocalo's. Avant garde art, mismatched furniture, awesome lattes, all the hallmarks of the most memorable writer-haunts. Something about the acoustics in there makes it loud and chaotic. Why is that a good thing? Because I can write there. I don't put on headphones, I don't listen to music — I listen to myself. To my characters. The din of conversations, the odd music mix, coffee grinders, milk frothers collectively make this sensory mashup that forces me deep in my head. I can stay there for hours and literally lose time. I'll get up for a coffee refill and it's suddenly dark out. Chapters exist that didn't before.

The Negotiation

Writing fiction isn't work. It isn't a game or a hobby. It's an unapologetic escape — the jailbreak of sneaking out between errands and client calls to meet the part of myself that only exists through my characters.

I write Zocalo's on a sticky note in black Sharpie and tape it to my side door. I see it every time I come downstairs. A permission slip. A reminder that feeding this hunger isn't optional. And yet — efficiency is my superpower and my demise. One quick task turns to twenty and suddenly the window closes. The day has swallowed the intention — and a tiny part of me feels like it's dying. Like it can't breathe.

When I do make it there — it's an exhale I didn't realize I was holding. Feeding a deep part of myself that can only be fed through creative surrender of becoming my characters, walking in their shoes across the uneven cobbles of all the challenges I set before them.

This negotiation is constant. I feel that tension every day. I know you do too.

The Gothic Arch

And beneath all of that, something else is lurking. Something ancient and insistent that doesn't care about your calendar. A Gothic archway covered in moss. A cloaked figure centered beneath it, a bony hand outstretched, reaching toward you.

"I know what you're looking for," it says. "I know where it is, and I'll tell you why it matters. Follow me."

The pull is strong and undeniable. I feel it right now.

Zocalo's, I realize, isn't just a coffeehouse. It's a portal to a secret underworld.

Where is your secret portal, and when are you going next?

Wednesday Escape

Speaking Engagements

Sacramento Book Festival: 6,000 readers in one room. By 2pm, my psychological thrillers - Terror Bay, Codex, and Specimen - were sold out. A whole day of rich conversations with readers. I’ll definitely be back next year.

Horror Writers of America - I gave a fun presentation on “Audience Insights and Reader Personas” to this lovely community. You can view my deck here.

Book Passage Corte Madera NorCal Sisters in Crime Summer Showcase - Sunday May 17th at 1pm. I’ll be reading from The ME Factor along with a stellar line up of other crime writers.

Alameda Library Mystery Book Club (1550 Oak St, Alameda) is reading my E&A Series thriller, Switch! I learn so much through direct reader feedback. No registration required.

The Story Impact Podcast recently passed 50 episodes! Today, I’m highlighting my conversation with award-winning crime novelist Ana Manwaring, whose JadeAnne Stone Mexico Adventures Series was born from a harrowing road trip through Mexican cartel territory. Ana drove alone. A gun was pointed at her. She kept driving. Watch the episode here.

Until next month, thank you for being here. When I’m not with my book coaching clients, you’ll find me in a corner table at Zocalo’s. Pull up a chair, I don’t mind being interrupted.

Watch the new book trailer for The ME Factor.

The best stories whisper from the dark. Follow the sound…

Lisa