I grew up in Nenana Alaska

I grew up in Nenana Alaska. Scenes like this one, of the namesake river steamer "Nenana," live on in my mind. 

I write two novel series, The Father Hardy Alaska Mystery series (adults) and the Cheechako series (middle-grades and up) that take place in versions of this town, and—in my mind at least—among these people.

Nenana in the 1950s was like other towns in the US in the 1920s or '30s. There was no police force, no firefighters. My father, all his life had a scar on his shin where he turned out to fight a Nenana fire and a hose broke loose, drenching him at twenty below, and ripping open his leg. He stumbled to the nearest house, freezing, and of course they took him in.

Why write so much about Nenana? It was rough and raw in its way, but absolutely real. And everybody I still know who lived there, quite a few of them reading this, knows they have that old and genuine Alaska spirit in them. They read the books and tell me, "I'd forgotten that," or "you nailed it," or ... "Yeah, it really was that cold."

I love to go back to those dusty streets in my memory, and the river, to recreate the mood and the tone of a place that is vastly changed, and take readers along for the ride.

Thanks to you all for coming along and telling me how much you enjoy the ride.