I recommend SHE RIDES at my library job all. the. time.

I worked it into an essay about Vaclav Havel in my 90s era college religion class.

Meanwhile, in Des Moines, I've gotten a dozen little old white ladies to read Razorblade Tears. If they didn't want to read a heart-wrenching crime novel, they shouldn't have walked into my library and asked for a recommendation.

Spite is how I finished my novel. True story.

Just don't ask @jessethorn.bsky.social

Pretty sure I read this based on your Twitter recommendation. So good. Thanks!

My handle might give it away, but I love the morally questionable pals of detective fiction.

This is amazing! Your work is so cinematic, I expect more adaptations in the future

Mosley's Mouse.

The grief isn't gone but it was time to let go of the pan.

So, for Mothers Day this, I just took the pan out of my freezer and threw the year and a half old dessert in the trash. The pan is soaking in the sink right now.

Recently, I could hear her chiding me for wasting space in my small fridge and reminding me that my dad might want the pan back.

Since the start of the new year, it made me smile to remember her and how loving and loved she was.

Since then, I've been able to gauge my grief simply by opening the freezer. That first month, I'd cry when I saw the pan. Months later, its presence was a sad reminder of her absence.

I was a blubbering mess from the start.