As a new author, I have to admit that I have been a little surprised at some of the questions that are most often asked of me. When people learn that I wrote book, after the requisite, “What’s it about?” people invariably move to the process of writing a book and getting it published. I guess there must be that unwritten book within all of us – and the hope to one day still get it published. “How long did it take you to write?” “How did you find a publisher?” People are often more interested in how I wrote the book and got it published than they are in the book itself.

They are usually surprised when I tell them that it took me five or six years of research and writing, plus another two or three years to actually get it published. That’s the better part of seven or eight years to complete POISONED. So, am I determined? Or just slow?

I married late in life - always a procrastinator, I guess. But I always lived by the old adage (and even a song by Mr. Rogers, I believe) to “Take your time and do it right.” I was blessed to finally meet the woman of dreams, though it was years after most all of my friends had already married (some a few times!) and started families. A good friend, who is now happily married for the fifth time, always used to say to me, “Why don’t you just marry her?” (referring to the partner in whatever empty or rocky relationship I might have been in at the time). He just couldn’t see how someone could go through life (in his view) alone, while I just couldn’t imagine marrying someone who wasn’t the “girl of my dreams.”

Well, I did finally meet that girl of my dreams. And with the recent birth our beautiful little ray of sunshine, our daughter Savanna, I now find myself a new first-time father well past my 40th birthday. Late night feedings and early morning tantrums, the demands of being the author of a new book, and having a full-time job – doesn’t leave much room in my life for rest, or much of anything else. Sure, if I had done this when I was 25, I’d have more energy to keep up with everything. But I would have had to settle for less than my ideal, and I never would have ended up with the wife and child that are now everything that I hold dear. Every morning when I wake up, and every evening when I come home, greeted by little Savanna’s bright, sweet smile, I know that I did everything right.

Which brings me back to my book POISONED. I easily could have stopped my research after 6 months or a year and had more than enough to write a bizarre tale about a hypnotic wizard who systematically controlled, robbed, then murdered people in the early 1900s. It was certainly a tempting proposition. But I always had just enough doubt in my mind about whether the “wizard” (Herman Billik) was really guilty, that I would always choose to dig just a little deeper, hoping to finally feel satisfied with his conviction. And every time, I came away with only more questions. Finally I said to myself, “What if this guy really was innocent?” That’s when the pieces started fitting together. The murderous and mysterious hypnotist started looking more like an innocent dupe, and evidence pointed to a rather unsuspecting killer: a serial killer who was never brought to justice.

It had taken me a long time to eventually come to that conclusion, but shortly before Poisoned was released, I received a surprising message on Facebook, that assured me that it was worth the effort. “I am the great grandson of Herman Billik,” the note began. “John” went on to thank me for my work, and to express his gratitude for finally telling the true story of Herman Billik and the Vrzal / Niemann family murders. Then I knew that I had done it the “right” way.