Like most writers, I indulge in a healthy meditative practice known as procrastination. Some people consider it an act of avoidance, but for me procrastination is a vital artistic process.  In fact, procrastination creates the adrenalin rush I need to write effectively. After all, if a deadline is days, weeks or months away, why would I torture myself by doing the very hard work of actually writing? I need more motivation than that. Consequently, procrastination is my partner. Without it, I would never fall far enough behind to feel the pulse pounding anxiety that keeps me up at night and prompts me to do good work. It may seem like circular logic to you, but how many New York Times Best Sellers do you have?  

But for any author worth their salt, the true art of procrastination requires one to find a deep and meaningful justification for not writing. I mean, you can’t just tell your friends that you’re spending the day procrastinating. After a while they may start to talk.  For me, the best justification has always been research. I love research, and the reason I love it is because when I’m doing it, I’m not writing. As I’ve said, writing is hard. Actually, writing is easy. Writing well is hard. 

Research provides plenty of other benefits. It can help instill a sense of powerful authenticity in one’s work. It can spark great moments of discovery, open avenues of storytelling, and give one great insight into deeply rich and complex human experience. But mostly it’s an excuse not to have to write.

A few years back when I was looking for inspiration for a new character to anchor a book series, I was lucky enough to be asked to consult on a murder investigation led by the extraordinary NYPD homicide detective Kate Beckett.  Beckett embodied everything I was looking for in a new character; smart, complicated, incredibly competent, all while carrying the burden of a past tragedy that drives her.  I like my characters like I like my bean dip. Layered. The case that Det. Beckett and I worked together was the most amazing research experience I’d had. And when I realized that this was the kind of procrastination that could keep me away from my writing desk for weeks at a time, I was instantly hooked! Can you ask for a more self-righteous justification for not writing than helping New York’s finest bring murderers to justice?

But what started out as a simple justification has, over these past few years, become a joy. Not that murder is particularly joyous, but as you can imagine, writing is often a lonely profession and joining Beckett and her investigative team has given me a real sense of belonging. My mystery writing poker buddies aside, I finally understand what it means to have a professional family, what it means to count on your colleagues to have your back and to do whatever it takes to have theirs.

Seeing the world through the eyes of a dedicated homicide team has opened me up to a level detail and emotion that now permeates my work.  As well received as my early Derrick Storm series was, Nikki Heat has stolen my heart because what was once my procrastination was turned into my inspiration. In many ways, being part of this homicide squad has made me whole as a writer.

So how do I balance writing best sellers with my day job saving lives? I’m not sure I do. But I’ve discovered that if I’m patient, these two sides of my life feed one another. The homicide investigations fuel me as a storyteller, and my storytelling has actually helped us solve a bunch of cases. Everyone has a story, even murderers. I’ve found that sometimes if I can figure out what the story plot is, then I just might be able to figure out what the murder plot is. So I think I’ve found a rhythm, but not a balance. Balance is over rated in my book. 

Heat Wave, Naked Heat and my brand new book in the series, Heat Rises, would not have been possible without Detective Beckett. Without her, Nikki Heat would have no Heat.  The reason I like her so much is that she keeps me off balance. Balance is dull, off balance is interesting.

But a constant state of being off balance can also be dizzying for those folks around you, so I’m fortunate to have a loving and supportive family that tolerates my eccentricities. It’s hard enough to live with a writer, but a writer who plays cop? It must be torture on them. But my mother and daughter both keep me grounded and constantly remind me that the only true balance any of us can ever hope to find in life comes from loving one another.