Katherine Rawson

I have a passion for puzzles, though my husband and daughter don’t share the same enthusiasm. They dabble in it, much like someone snagging a toothpick-skewered cheese sample at the supermarket and saying, “Sure, I’ll give it a try,” before moving on. I won’t claim to devour the entire cheese plate—that metaphor didn’t quite hit the mark.

But let’s return to puzzles. I can lose myself for hours in assembling one. The challenge thrills me, and as a visual learner, I have a knack for envisioning the completed puzzle in my mind. I’ve realized that this skill carries over to my creative writing. As a child, my parents always advised me to start with the edges when working on a puzzle. In writing, my edges are the setting—a place I inhabit in my dreams. Next come the substantial pieces, the characters, whom I know inside and out. By the time I begin writing, they’ve become my dear companions, and we embark on our journey together.

The final pieces are the details, those elements that may seem insignificant on their own but are crucial in ensuring the rest of the story fits seamlessly together. You know that profound sense of satisfaction when you successfully join two substantial sections and then connect it to the edge? I experienced just that.

Last night, a minor detail led me down a path of research, unveiling another small piece of the puzzle, and suddenly, everything became clear. A significant detail emerged, the missing link that would drive the subplot in my story.

…I’m suddenly hungry for cheese.