Death knell for news

My hometown newspaper died Aug. 6, 2025.

No cause of death was reported as the news flew through social media, but I suspected sagging subscriptions and ad sales, coupled with rising materials costs as likely culprits in its demise. A press release reported later by area television stations and a regional daily said as much.

One more small piece of the formerly ubiquitous press is part of history. And I find it saddening for many reasons.

It was the first place I ever saw my words in print. In grade school, after I learned to read, I scanned every newspaper and magazine that came into our house. There were lots. We had a subscription to the now deceased local paper, which was actually two papers. The News and The Leader carried separate nameplates when I was growing up. The News was printed on Tuesday, with home mail delivery on Wednesday. The Leader came out Thursday, with Friday delivery.

(Pexels photo, Maxim)

I read lots of the articles, and looked at all the pictures. When I was elected scribe of my Camp Fire group in fourth grade, I copied the format of the new officer announcments from the adult clubs and wrote a short article. I recopied it in my best penmanship, carried it the four blocks from my school to the newspaper office, and handed it in. A week later, I read it in the paper. I remember the editor changed one word. (I learned early not to be too attached to my prose.)

The firt time I worked with a newspaper photographer was after I wrote to an area daily’s kids’ column, “Ask Andy.” I’ve always suspected my question was drawn from a hat, not selected because it was so interesting. But I won a set of World Books, which I still have despite its being hopelessly out of date. I remember going to the local newspaper office, the same one I carried articles to, for a photo shoot. The picture still shows up from time to time on my hometown museum’s Facebook post.

I grew up respecting our local newspaper photographer. We all knew to step over the cables in the high school gym because he brought extra lighting to the basketball games so he could get good shots. By the time I was taking sports pictures for the paper, we had strobe flashes for the cameras we carried but I don’t think our shots were as good as his.

I kept writing stories for school groups, from the seventh-and-eighth grade civics club to high school drama club, walking them downtown, and seeing my stories in print. I guess it’s no wonder I kept writing for newspapers for a good chunk of my life.

My first full time job was at that newspaper. I started in the backshop as a typesetter, eventually graduating to page design. I also got to help fix page negatives with a special red pen, “stuff” papers coming off the press, counting and tying them as I went. I could flip a stack of 100 papers back then. I even got to help change “dink” rolls on the press.

My boss in the back shop knew my goal was to work up front, so he helped me organize my schedule to attend classes at Northern Illinois University. Eventually I got a journalism degree there, but not until after my hometown paper had been sold to a young man my age who had dreams of building a nationwide newspaper group. He hired me as an editor for a county weekly, also owned by my hometown paper.

That was 1975. And 50 years later, his company closed, shuttering the papers in Rochelle, several other small towns in Illinois and in other states throughout the U.S.

But he really ended a tradition in my hometown that started in the 1800s. There were newspaperswhen the town was called Lane, before railroad progress required a name change. The Lane Leader ran from 1858 to 1859. The Lane Register was published from 1863 to `1865. The University of Illinois Newspaper Project says Lane changed its name to Rochelle on April 10, 1872.

The earliest papers I could find labeled Rochelle were the Herald, 1865-1877, and the longer-lasting Register, 1865-1926, although both seem to predate the changing of the town’s name. I think the records just include some of the Lane years.

The Library of Congress lists 1921 for the founding of the Rochelle News. According to the U of I Newspaper Project database, the Rochelle News succeeded the Rochelle Independent and the Rochelle Register when those nameplates died in 1926.

The News went into business with the .Rochelle Leader in 1934 but each continued under its own nameplate until 1994 when the two papers became the Rochelle News-Leader under the ownership that just closed its doors.

Sadly, no services have been scheduled to commemorate the loss.

À bientôt


May needs to slow down

May is departing in haste this year. At least from my perspective.

I started the month by ending my trek from Malice Domestic in Bethestda, Maryland, to Alabama to visit my son and his family. The trip was generally uneventful, but I’m not a long-distance driver. Oh, I drive long distances, but I break up the trip over multiple days. Fortunately, the weather was generally good for all my spring travels.

I stuck around a week, had lots of fun with kids and grands, and got a Mother’s Day gift a week early when my son took me to Atlanta to see a wonderful production of Wagner’s opera, Siegfried. For those who don’t know the opera, think dark fairy tale with an evil, troll-like blacksmith; a youngish lad destined to become a great warrior who wields the sword of power; a wizard akin to Sauron who ruled Mordor in The Lord of the Rings; the wizard’s wife who is effectively a prisoner of the tower wating for the Fates to release her; and a female warrior who has fallen in battle and who needs her prince (hark back to the young warrior) to come and awaken her so they can fall in love. A perfect story for a kid who grew up watching “He-Man and the Masters of the Universe” cartoons on TV.

(Screenshot of IMDb site)

In this production, the sets varied from dark views of what could be the interior of the Death Star in Star Wars complete with heavy steam punk overtones to mountaintop fantasies that only lacked dragons threating, and hosts of fairies circling, the lovers. I enjoyed every minute of the four-hour opera, even when I got caught up in the music and forgot to read the translations of the German. (My German was never good enough to get me through an opera, but I’m afraid it’s so rusty now I hardly picked up a single word.)

Ok, so that was just part of great week with my farflung family.

I’d been putting off so much during the three weeks I was away that I should have jumped in as soon as I go home to try to catch-up but I just vegged the whole weekend and didn’t plunge into my third short story draft for until Monday. Got that done and off to the critique group, then read the newest versions of the other writers’ tales with twists. Right before I dug into 140 pages of another friend’s cozy novel draft. I had critique meetings online for both sets of pages in Thursday.

But in the meantime, I also received the first 120-or-so pages of awards and judges’ commentary for a journalism organization I’m still part of. I have volunteered to proof the monthly newspaper, and the June issue is always devoted to the awards presented at the annual conference. Got those read by Friday, just in time to make my 10 a.m. dentist appointment.

(Sharon’s photo illustration)

The Saturday after I got home, I went up to Madison with my sister and women’s group from an area church. We strolled around the capitol square for the weekly farmer’s market. In addition to some amazing looking vegetables, garden plants, cheeses, and so much more, we got to listen to various protests groups (respectfully placed across the street from the market), and some musicians, including Cover Fire from the 132nd Army Band and the Raging Grannies. After a great early lunch at Barrique’s downtown, we popped into Grace Episcopal Church on the Capitol Square for a free noon concert by the local Ancora String Quartet. And finally, before we headed to the Overture Centure for a performance of Clue, a genuinely funny new comedy, we strolled down the block of crafters and I finally found a UW Wisconsin Terrace Chair to go with my Bucky Badger bobblehead.

(Background petunias by Valeska Huyskens on pexels.com; foreground images by Sharon)

The next week, I finished proofreading the last 287 pages of contest winners (see last week), and on successive days, I made it to my local writing group, my League of Women Voters International Studies discussion, my Shakespeare Society meeting, Temple Beth El’s annual Food O Rama fundraiser (to buy hot dogs, pickles, challah bread and blintzes–yum!), lunch with a writing buddy, and the next day with my daughter and friends, followed by book club. And that week ended with a Saturday drive to Dixon, Illinois, the petunia capiltal of the state and host of the annual Petunia Festival. (Mark your calendar for July 3-6.) I joined a few writing friends and we spent three hours at the library working on writing projects. (Yes! I got a new short story started!) We also looked at their Abraham Lincoln and Ronald Reagan displays, the gorgeous 1899 building. While it resembles some Carnegie libraries, that is probably due to the architectural styles of the day, but Dixon’s benefactor was local resident, O.B. Dodge. His picture hangs above a fireplace on the main floor. We really loved the display of “hidden” book covers showing the first lines of several books. As readers, we thought it was a great way to lure folks to the books. As writers, we were reminded of how important those opening words really are.

(Sharon’s photo)

Sunday, I shopped for our family cookout on Monday, which turned out to be a beautiful, sunny day.. Tuesday, I had an oil change and today I have more errands to run.

But, for those who have yet to celebrate Memorial Day, remember it was originally marked on May 30. So you still have a bit of time.

As for me, I am ready to flip the page to June. And keep working on that new short story.

À bientôt!

Adieu, Malice

For the past four years, I’ve been working behind the scenes for the mystery conference Malice Domestic®. This year, I stepped down. With mixed emotions.

(Photo courtesy Malice Domestic/John Mewshaw)

The board I worked with this year was absolutely the best.

As with any new endeavor, the first year involved a steep learning curve. I really didn’t know what I was getting into when I offered my desktop publishing skills — learned over years of working in newspaper design — for the MD program. Turns out, my incredibly talented predecessor, Rita Owen, was doing way more than just slapping some program pages together. I never did fill her footsteps, as elements of the job she handed off to me got distributed among other board members.

My first year at the conference also was the first in-person Malice after COVID shut it down. My program had to incorporate two years of honorees and nominations and more. It was not flawless. (Not one of them has been.) And I lived in the office for most of the conference. I made it to two Sunday morning sessions in rooms that were mere footsteps away from my windowless corner office.

The second year went a little better, but I didn’t make it to a single session. Don’t get me wrong. I did make it to the banquet and the Agatha tea both years. They were wonderful. And I was hopeful for year three.

But shortly after we cleaned up and got home from Bethesda, Maryland, where Malice Domestic is held, we suffered through a painful board transition that threatened to derail a long-standing mystery community tradition. Cindy Silberblatt, who had been chair years before, stepped up and reeled us all back in. We had super help from our anthology publisher, John Betancourt of Wildside Press, to ensure that element of our tradition wasn’t interupted. Though it wasn’t our original theme, he and his hard-working staff gave us Mystery Most Devious (followed by this year’s Mystery Most Humorous) on time for our signing session. Even our honorees worked tirelessly to ensure a seamless conference.

A family health concern meant I was unable to attend the conference, though, so my fingers were crossed I could actually be there for my fourth Malice this year.

(Photo courtesy Malice Domestic/John Mewshaw)

Despite an unexpected budget hit — I had to get a new furnace — I managed to get to Bethesda for the conference. Since it was my last year on the board, I really wanted to see a few sessions. And, thanks to the generous (and sometimes goofy) board that I worked with, I did!

I finally feel like I’ve had the fun, fan experience that is is Malice Domestic®. I made it to several sessions, including the Guest of Honor interview of Marcia Talley and the Lifetime Achievement interview of Donna Andrews.

I got to visit with fans and authors alike. Everyone was so friendly you really needed the nametags to know who was a fan and who was an author.

I enjoyed the Dorothy Gilman book club session in honor of our “Malice Remembers” author. I hope that becomes a tradition. I bought a trunk of middle grade books at the live auction. My grands and greats will enjoy that. (Yes, I have both.) I had fun, and added a couple of rows to my current afghan project, at Ellen Byron’s crafting session in the hospitality room.

(Photo courtesy Tassey A. Russo)

I was busy on Thursday when Jane Cleland hosted a pre-Malice writing workshop, but I was lucky enough to join her table at the Agatha Awards banquet. She was a marvelous hostess and I enjoyed the company of everyone at our table. (Jane is wearing a red jacket.) I always love her Saturday morning workshops, and I finally had a chance to thank her in person. If you haven’t read her Josie Prescott Antiques Mysteries, give them a try.

(Photo courtesy Rebecca Brittenham)

I even got to go to my first signing session as a short story author! A half dozen of the Guppies who are included in the eighth Guppy Anthology, Gone Fishin’: Crime Takes a Holiday, had our own signing session on Sunday morning. I have to thank the rest of the Malice board for making that happen, too. (Here’s hoping it becomes a new tradition.)

I’m sad to admit I’m probably not going to be able to attend next year for MD38, but I’m saving my money for a future Malice. (And I know a new furnace isn’t going to mess with my budgeting!)

If you like mysteries and have never attended Malice, I encourage you to go. The conference celebrates traditional mysteries in the vein of Agatha Christie (hence their awards, the Agathas). Check it out at malicedomestic.net! There’s still time for the early bird discount.

But for now, I need to hit the road for the next stop on my spring road trip.

À bientôt!

Short stories are fun

(Pexels photo by Ron Lach)

But that doesn’t mean they’re easy.

Some writers I know have said short stories are much harder than novels because you have to make every word count.

I just happen to have a long-standing love of the short story that started when I discovered science fiction magazines when I was in high school. That’s when I wrote my first short stories, all centering around sci-fi topics.

When my kids were little, I read mostly magazine short stories for the same reason I had a subscription to Reader’s Digest. I could devote a few minutes to reading after the kids went to bed or between tasks. I could get a beginning, middle and end in one sitting, something impossible with a novel.

When I discovered audio books that I could listen to on my commute, I did get back into novels and longer non-fiction, which pushed short stories into the background of my reading and writing. But in the past couple of years, I’ve rediscovered the format and jumped back in.

I’ve submitted short stories to a few anthologies, and won a spot in the Guppy anthology, Gone Fishin’: Crime Takes a Holiday. For those, I wrote stories, and sent them into the virtual slush pile for editors to evaluate without knowing who I am. For this story, third time was a charm, and I got to work with editor Jim Jackson of Wolf’s Echo Press, who really helped me improve the final version of “Blood on the White Rose.”

I’d already run several iterations of the story through my critique partners. Four in particular kept telling me the story on the page wasn’t the story I kept saying it was. Finally, days before the submission deadline, they got through to me. At least they spurred me on to rewrite the entire story, bringing forth a more fleshed out main character, and cutting the duration of the events. In its first version, the story took place over a period of weeks. In the end, it lasted something under 24 hours.

What really intrigues me about the OCWW process, though, is the attention to the story before it ever sees an editor. I was assigned to a critique group, given a deadline of March 20 to submit a draft, and received copies of my critique partners’ stories to review before our first critique meeting on April 1.

Of course, I had more than one short story I thought might fit the anthology theme: I didn’t see that coming. I sent two and asked the group to help me select one for my final focus. We’ll see what they say, because I will need to make a first round of revisions before our next meeting, April 17.

But we have until late June to work with each other before our next submission deadline. At that point, we’ll go into a developmental editing process. I have never done anything explicitly called developmental editing, although I may find that’s exactly what I went through with Jim.

I have always imagined developmental editing is something that takes place while the story or novel is in the draft stages with the author. I’m looking forward to being more enlightened as we head toward a 2026 publication of the OCWW anthology. I’ll keep you posted.

À bientôt!

Join my launch party

Have you heard of a book launch party? They are a way of celebrating new publications with friends and families.

My short story, “Blood on the White Rose,” appears in Gone Fishin’: Crime Takes a Holiday, the eighth Sisters in Crime Guppy chapter anthology.

Not only is the story my first fiction publication, it’s also my first foray into book promotion. At least I’ll be part of a group, which makes me feel more comfortable about the process.

But I’d love you to join me when we debut our book in an online “gala” on Feb. 17 at 6 p.m. CT. Well, I think there will be something of the “gala” about it. I guess we’ll find out about that together.

You will need to register in advance at https://sistersincrime-org.zoom.us/webinar/register/WN_J2jaejhdRCCrcAtSJrO-DA. Please join us for our debut.