Books like A Day No Pigs Would Die

I grew up in a household with a secret at its center, one that I've long suspected held trauma. Long before the formation of the family I was born into, my mother was a divorcee with a young child, my eldest sister (a fact I only found out by finding a photo of my parents’ wedding with my sister in it!). My mother refused to tell my sister anything about her biological father or the circumstances of the divorce, saying only that she “preferred to pretend that part of her life had never happened.” I never did learn the full story. Needless to say, novels that give their protagonist that chance are very close to my heart.

Books were a way to navigate life, my love for my horse, and just being an awkward feeling person. For me, the most powerful thing that stories provide is revealing that everyone is awkward. No one really feels like they fit in, have everything figured out, and know what this whole, crazy existence is about. A book offers a perspective that makes me see my world just a little more clearly. When I find relatable characters in books, I feel comforted because it makes me realize that no one is all good and no one is all bad. We are flawed and beautiful all at once, just like the characters that draw me into their worlds.

Requesting that I justify my credentials as a misfit, eh? Okay, then. I personally differ from almost everyone around me in many ways, but most notably with respect to faith, sexual arousal, and use of the intellect. I’ve always sought to cultivate and nourish my spiritual side, but faith-based Western religions never resonated with me—I instead cobbled together a discipline encompassing yoga, meditation, vegetarianism, and Ahimsa—which has served me for over half a century. From the earliest age, sexual arousal has involved scenarios where one person cedes power and the other wields it. And I have always obsessed about any bit of minutia my brain happened to seize upon.

Books were a way to navigate life, my love for my horse, and just being an awkward feeling person. For me, the most powerful thing that stories provide is revealing that everyone is awkward. No one really feels like they fit in, have everything figured out, and know what this whole, crazy existence is about. A book offers a perspective that makes me see my world just a little more clearly. When I find relatable characters in books, I feel comforted because it makes me realize that no one is all good and no one is all bad. We are flawed and beautiful all at once, just like the characters that draw me into their worlds.

I’ve always been interested in worlds other than ours, primarily extraterrestrial worlds because I believe expansion into space is vital to the future survival of humankind, but also fantasy worlds that illuminate ideas and feelings that are universal. I’ve written the Newbery Honor book Enchantress from the Stars and ten other science fiction novels, a classification that limits their discovery because they're often liked better by people who read little if any science fiction than by avid fans of that genre. Because they’re set in imaginary worlds distant from Earth—and are not fantasy because they contain no mythical creatures or magic—there is nothing else to call them. I wish books didn’t have to be labeled with categories!

Most of my published titles are about animals or involve them in some fashion. My Cats in the Mirror alien rescue cat series has been winning awards for a decade, and the two dog companion books have won the hearts of middle-grade readers, with a third companion book due out in 2026. Even my science fiction books for adults are about half-tiger/half-human creatures. Cats are definitely my favorite, but give me a book about a cute animal, and I’m happy. 

As a writer, I love watching people, imagining their worlds and lives. Aside from the outdoor cafés of Paris (which are hard to get to), one of the best places for people-watching is a good bar. All five of the characters I’ve listed would make wonderful conversation companions for a bar evening, because of their energy, quirkiness, intelligence, and/or observational skills. (Also, I’d just want to get to know them better.) And as a recovering alcoholic with enough sobriety that sitting at a bar all night, sipping seltzer would not be a problem, I could watch what these characters reveal about themselves once alcohol lowers their ordinary defenses.

I’m a writer who grew up in the Midwest, moved away for a while, and has now raised my own kids here. I love reading other writers' takes on what kinds of stories they see unfolding here. As I get older, I realize that great stories can grow out of the ground anywhere, with the right amount of sunshine, darkness, and water. 

I grew up on the wild island of Tasmania. I saw the Vietnam War on TV, then went to a farm my father was ‘developing.’ It felt like war. The natural beauty that I’d once played in was destroyed by machines, poisons, and fire. During agricultural college in mainland Australia, I recognized an absence of reverence for Mother Nature. Women were missing from the rural narrative that increasingly held an economics-only mindset when it came to food. I’m a co-founder of Ripple Farm Landscape Healing Hub–a 100-acre farm we’re restoring to natural beauty and producing loved meat and eggs for customers. And I’m a devoted mum, shepherd, and working dog trainer.

I grew up on a fifth-generation family farm, schooled around the dining table by stories of bootleggers, hoodlums, and environmental shysters. Raised by parents and grandparents who believed in the ancient wisdom of husbandry versus the growing use of chemicals and crop dusters.  Those who believed what was good for all was good enough for one. The common good versus the selfish exploitation of land, animals, and labor.