It would be a lie to say my writing on Mailboat VI wasn’t a little distracted by the news headlines of last month: the shootings in Minneapolis by immigration agents.

And since recent events on the national stage dovetail somewhat with the topics of the Mailboat Suspense Series, it seemed appropriate, perhaps, to put into words my thoughts on the turmoil that struck our country last month.

If you’re worried my scrivenings here are going to break down into a political rant in support of one politick or another, I assure you they aren’t. I’ve long striven for my online presence to be a widely inclusive space, and I’m not abandoning that principle now.

When it comes to my novels, quality is always my first priority. And with political tensions dominating many of our minds—increasingly dovetailing with the topics I’m writing about, specifically in regards to law enforcement and race—never has attention to detail and integrity in my writing been more important. Ironically, I completed new rounds of deep research on police use of lethal force and racial tensions shortly before the Minneapolis shootings in January.

I don’t currently see it as my place to promote a particular polarity, and I’m proud that people frequently struggle to guess my politics. Unlike most of media and social media these days, I don’t see it as my place to tell you how to think.

Rather, I see it as my place to try to introduce well-researched information where confusion exists, to help you arrive at your own conclusions. Most of what you read in the Mailboat Suspense Series is voraciously researched and as true-to-reality as I can make it, whether I’m writing about Lake Geneva, law enforcement, mental health, or any other topic.

I’m frustrated with media rushing a biased ideology to publication while facts are still in short supply. And where facts are lacking, I’m frustrated by the gap being filled with opinion: from politicians, from influencers, from whoever will provide a juicy—dare I say, inflammatory—quote. I’m tired of us permitting authority figures to indoctrinate us on what to think, rather than us educating ourselves on how to think—critically and logically.

Above all, I cannot tolerate the way verdicts are often announced by authority figures, in the court of public opinion, within hours of a headline unfolding. A legal verdict can’t be reached until a full investigation is conducted, with professional integrity and attention to detail—a process that typically takes months. Yet rarely do I hear an authority figure say what they should say: that they can’t form an opinion until all the facts are known. Rather, they say whatever their constituents or followers want them to say. God forbid they lose a vote, a like, a subscribe.

I cannot tolerate a witch hunt—and I don’t care if that hunt swings left or right.

I wish I were living in a world in which we embraced truth above ideology. A world in which we had the courage to humble dearly-held opinion in the face of facts, however uncomfortable they may be to our beliefs. A world in which we had the patience to let the facts come to light in the first place. A world in which we had the integrity not to feel intimidated by truth.

And I do not mean I wish the other side had that kind of integrity (whatever side is “other” to you); I mean we. I wish we—everyone—had that integrity. I wish patience, fact-checking, and reasoned debate were the going rate, not an extinct ideal.

I wish we had the grace to listen to one another. To understand. To co-exist. Because when we’re done binding our wounds and—God forgive us—burying our dead, the truth remains unaltered: That peace only ever flourishes in tolerance.

Love one another.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Love your enemy as yourself.

Do what you will, and harm no one.

We’ve been saying variations on these themes for millennia. We were taught these concepts in kindergarten, when we were taught not to hit, not to take the other kid’s toy, to use our words, to take our big emotions to the other side of the room and let them cool down. Why do we keep forgetting these foundational lessons? Why do we keep trying to introduce exceptions to these simple rules?

The world we live in right now is not the world I want to live in.

Until we arrive at something better, I think it’s my role to simply remind us of our better selves. To love one another, even our enemies. To seek education, and not soundbites and echo chambers that bolster our opinions. To humble our opinions in the face of facts, even facts we don’t like. To listen. To understand. To make space for one another. To respect, where we cannot agree.

I have friends who are law enforcement.

I have friends who are Black, Hispanic, Asian, and Native American.

I have friends who are devoutly Catholic, Lutheran, Eastern Orthodox, Mormon, and Mennonite.

I have friends who are atheists, agnostics, ex-religious, non-religious, and vaguely spiritual.

I have friends who are straight and cis-gendered.

I have friends who are LGBTQIA+.

I have friends who vote right.

I have friends who vote left.

I’m told this is not how it’s supposed to work. That I’m supposed to pick a side, and hate everyone else.

Respectfully, I decline. And I will continue to decline for as long as I can. I will continue to get to know my neighbors, whoever they are, and whatever they look like. And in the meantime, I find myself in a unique position:

I’ve explained law enforcement to people who hate law enforcement.

I’ve explained LGBTQIA+ to people who have only ever known “the old fashioned ways.”

I’ve enjoyed many energetic—and respectful—conversations between friends of opposing politics, back at my Wisconsin co-working space, in what we lovingly referred to as “The Podcast.”

And when a gentleman here in Montana made the questionable decision to verbally harass my dear Mennonite friend, I physically stood behind her and let this gentleman enjoy some steady, direct eye contact. Not because I share my friend’s religious values; my very modern crop top, shorts, and punk hairstyle were a decided clash with her modest long dress and pinned bun. But rather, it was my aim to let this fellow know that his behavior wasn’t going unseen, and that this was not how we do business in these parts. He very wisely picked up his religious intolerance and moved along.

Because I refuse to villainize, I can stand up for humanity, in whatever form it takes.

We’re all stuck on this rock in space together. We’re never going to agree on everything. We just have to figure out how to make it work.

I never really set out for the Mailboat Suspense Series to sit at the intersection of current political clashes. I simply let my characters be whoever they are, and I follow where they lead.

Ryan, Monica, and many other characters in this series are law enforcement.

Angelica Read never presented herself to me as anything but Hispanic.

I always knew Monica and Angelica didn’t get along.

These elements of the story would have remained unaltered, regardless of the times we find ourselves in.

But as I was writing these books, and watching history unfold around me, I realized I had to make a choice: To write a simplified version of this story that blithely ignored the elephant in the room; the question on everyone’s mind of law enforcement and race…

Or to write a much harder, deeper version of the story; to essentially sit down, look my readers in the eye, and say, “Okay, let’s talk about this.”

I opted for the latter.

It’s been one of the most challenging decisions I’ve ever made. But for all of my adult life, I’ve had a terrible habit:

I tend to walk toward the things I fear.

Yes, this is something that I hold deeply in common with my character Javier Morales, someone with whom I would outwardly appear to have very little in common.

And so, I regret to inform you that these are the kinds of stories you’ll keep finding from my pen.

Fictional stories built on factual research, to not only entertain but also to educate.

Stories that show opposing sides, experiences, beliefs, and opinions.

Stories that model peace and unity through listening, learning, and understanding; through tolerance and respect.

Stories that call us to be our better selves.

In this day and age, I feel shouted down by both sides.

But this is my compass, and as long as I am able, I plan to stick to it.

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