I’m sorry for the sad picture. This is the grave of Christine Diefenbach. I wrote about her murder in my book about the NYPD’s Cold Case Squad. It was sent to me by the detective who took over her case when Tommy Wray (the detective who had it and who was in my book) retired. This is why I don’t want to write any more books about crime. It’s just too sad.
But of course you can’t escape sadness. I can’t believe I am once again writing about murdered children (the story of Bruce Kremen, the little boy who went missing in California in the sixties).
I’m still working furiously to get this book done by the end of June. It should be okay, but I am currently overwhelmed by the epilogue. Why is it kicking my ass so?? Speaking of the epilogue, I’m reading this book called The Canon. It’s an overview of science written for people like me, adults who really don’t know a lot about science. It’s pretty great so far. I wish I had this when I started this book.
My birthday is next week. Well, a week from Sunday. The whole week will be my birthday week. But I feel weird talking about that in the same post about Christine, it feels disrespectful. I will talk about that tomorrow.