When Life Demands a Second Dance: Pat Edwards and Ken Coffman on Shuffle Ball Change

There is a rare, compelling harmony when two imaginative voices align, and in Shuffle Ball Change, Pat Edwards and Ken Coffman achieve it with effortless grace.

Their collaboration is more than a meeting of minds; it is a fusion of curiosity, daring, and emotional acuity, producing a narrative that carries the poise, tension, and rhythm of the dance that gives the novel its title.

Set within Coffman’s intricately rendered Glen Wilson universe, Shuffle Ball Change expands that world in unexpected, tender directions. It trades the familiar pulse of action for something more luminous: a late-life story that is simultaneously elegy and awakening. Roxy, a fiery former Rockette, and Steve, an eighty-year-old man shaped by memory and loss, meet not in the flush of youth but in the long afterglow of lived experience. Their connection becomes a meditation on endurance, forgiveness, and the stubborn, necessary beauty of remaining present in a world that often moves too quickly.

Edwards writes with warmth and precision, her characters alive with wit, vulnerability, and emotional truth. Coffman, ever the architect of complex, believable worlds, provides the scaffolding on which her story unfolds. Together, they have produced a novel that defies easy categorization, merging relationship, realism, and quiet philosophical inquiry into a work of understated transcendence.

Beyond Shuffle Ball Change, both authors continue to explore and articulate a vision that affirms the human capacity for renewal, reminding readers that even in life’s later chapters, there is always another dance waiting to begin.

Pat, you mentioned that Ken’s instigation was the sole reason for this book, and it was created as an “adjunct novel” to his Immortality, LLC book, part of the Glen Wilson series, with intersecting and entangled events. Could you elaborate on the creative constraints and freedoms inherent in writing a novel within another author’s established universe? Did the existing framework serve as a safety net or a challenging maze, and how did you ensure your narrative remained distinct while maintaining tonal consistency with Ken’s world?

Pat: Pretty much my entire directive for this novel came from one email from Ken that said: “In Glen Wilson #6, a new character entered the menagerie: Roxy. She’s not much more than a sketch in this book, but she will play an important role in #7. I wonder… would you be interested in a ghost writing or commission book? She deserves her own story… I am interested in her stand-alone back story, events that lead up to her role in Immortality.”

In Immortality, it was mentioned that Roxy was the girlfriend of his character Steve Stephens, who had appeared in a number of his books, and that she was a former Rockette. That’s all I got. Ken gave me complete creative freedom over the rest. He was thinking of her only slightly interacting with Steve since he had already killed off Steve in Immortality. I had something different in mind.

Ken was very tight-lipped about his expectations, but I’m pretty sure whatever vision he may have had for Roxy was entirely different from what I wrote. I backed up the timeline of my story slightly so that it begins with Roxy and Steve meeting, follows through the events of Immortality, including Steve’s death, then flows into what happens to Roxy after that, setting up whatever Ken has in mind for his next book. It was definitely a challenge to fit my story into his.

I don’t think there’s any tonal consistency between Ken’s work and mine. His work is darkly humorous and action-packed. My style is more about deep emotions and light humor. Ken is a master of eccentric, unhinged, unreliable narrator characters. Roxy allowed me to try my hand at creating a quirky character with a big dose of humor, even though humor is definitely not my forte.

In spite of genuinely liking and respecting each other, Ken and I have distinctly different styles, and any attempt at something like an actual collaboration would probably end up with pistols at dawn. We’re both very stubborn people. But trying to at least complement his style encouraged me to stretch my writing muscles in new ways.

Ken has known me long enough to know I’m exceedingly, fiercely protective of my words, and he never tried to interfere or even make suggestions. He just pointed me in a direction and then let me run amok in the world he created, and it was a blast.

Ken, from a creator’s perspective, what was the most satisfying and most nerve-wracking aspect of inviting another author to utilize your characters and world for a novel that would intersect with your own? For readers of the Glen Wilson Universe, can you pinpoint an example of a moment or event in Shuffle Ball Change that you feel provides the most resonant “aha!” moment when viewed against the backdrop of Immortality, LLC?

KLC: Things Pat and I share include a deep reverence for the written word, immovable rules about how things should be done, and a deeply ingrained demand for freedom of expression. Based on that, you’d think there would be no way we could work together. As much as we care for each other, neither of us is hesitant to go toe to toe to vigorously defend our points of view.

At the same time, I’ve had almost 20 years of experience with her and how her mind works, with a resulting baseline of admiration and respect. Pat is a very skilled craftsman. I knew there would be no issue with the quality of her work. In addition, though I am the supreme commander of Glen Wilson’s world, I don’t feel complete ownership. Glen’s world exists beyond what my mind holds. I’m okay with it being more than what I dream up.

There were no big surprises. My nerves were not wracked. There are a million details different from my conceptions, a million ways she expresses herself differently from me, and a million details from her unique life and worldview infused in the story. How could it be otherwise? I was okay with her telling the tale her way. I wasn’t surprised because she has a coherent way of writing—everything fits together and events flow naturally.

I would like to mention how Pat and I came to know each other. Circa 2007, there was a fledgling social media site called Gather with a writing contest where the winner got $5,000 and a publishing contract. The contest ended up being a flaming disaster, but Gather hosted a writer’s group called the Writin’ Wombats. At its peak, there were 350 writers. For me, this was formative; I learned a massive amount about commercial writing and the book business.

We had a lot of fun with a bad writing contest inspired by the turgid prose of Dan Brown (The Da Vinci Code, etc.). Based on lessons learned from the Gather debacle, I devised a cheat-free, anonymous voting scheme. In these contests, nearly always, Pat was the winner, which was ironic because she insisted she was only a reader and not a writer.

Our writer’s group represented a wide range of skill, from hopeless amateurs to rising professionals. Pat’s writing skill was very evident. Anyway, after plenty of online adventures, we became friends, and that friendship carries on to this day.

You chose to focus on Steve Stephens, an existing character, and Roxy Fields, a “very minor character.” What was it about Steve, an eighty-year-old curmudgeon who is “ready for his dance to end,” that suggested he needed his own story of renewal? And for Roxy, how did the decision to cast a “feisty former Rockette” as his opposite anchor the themes of vitality and second chances in the book?

KLC: One pleasure of writing is when a character who was not intended to be central wakes up on the page and becomes more. It is as if they are real and we find she or he is far more interesting than planned. We give birth to these characters and they demand life. I loved Steve Stephens, and it broke my heart when he had to die. Roxy was part of his story and demanded flesh.

Pat: The most important and difficult piece of the story is that Ken had already killed off Steve in Immortality, LLC. He mentioned that he regretted killing Steve off too hastily. I decided to give Steve a better, more meaningful death while staying true to the events of Immortality and completely flesh out Roxy in the process so Ken could make use of her in his future novels.

I liked the idea of putting an immovable object (Steve) in the path of an irresistible force (Roxy) and watching what happened. Steve and Roxy are both survivors. They’ve both lived through ugly things and loss and grief. Where the grindstone of life has worn Steve down to a sick, bitter, angry nub who’s on the brink of suicide, it has polished Roxy to a fine, sharp point, determined to make the most of every moment left to her.

As a former cop, Steve is habituated to protecting people, and he wants to protect Roxy from what he knows is coming, even if it means pushing away someone he’s falling for. Roxy is a stubborn, natural-born rescuer, happily blowing up whatever roadblocks life throws at her. The book really is about Steve and Roxy telling each other the stories of their lives, discovering the things they have in common in spite of being so very different.

Roxy empathizes deeply with Steve’s stories and never discounts or trivializes them, while at the same time she looks for ways to blunt the jagged edges for him, to coax him into a different perspective by giving a humorous edge to her own tales of woe. She’s a realist, never a Pollyanna, but she is always hopeful. I loved playing with the constant pull of light and shadow between them.

Every chapter begins with an epigram. When the chapter is from Steve’s point of view, the epigram is a countdown clock to Steve’s date of death, such as “Steve’s Date with Death: T Minus 57:04:11 and counting.” The epigrams for Roxy’s chapters are word definitions from her Sexy Firefighters Calendar Word of the Day that pertain to the chapter, such as: “Foofaraw: [foo fuh raw] Noun. A great fuss or disturbance about something very insignificant.”

Those epigrams are used to show that Steve is counting the moments until it ends, while Roxy looks forward to learning something new every day. It’s Roxy’s love that puts a temporary pause on Steve’s countdown, but she isn’t going to be able to stop it.

Roxy can be summed up by the way she responds when Steve confesses why he’s suicidal. She says:

“My philosophy is that life is like the Indy 500 and each of us is in the race whether we like it or not. Yeah, we can run that race alone and limp or crawl or dash across the finish line; everybody gets there sooner or later. But it’s a whole lot easier if you’ve got a pit crew, people who will be there to help you along the way. When you’re low on fuel? That pit crew will fill you back up. When your check engine light comes on and you’re pretty sure your world’s about to blow up? Yeah, a pit crew may not be able to fix everything, but they’ll be there and they’ll try their damnedest to find a way to help.”

The title, a fundamental tap dance move, implies a quick shift in balance and direction. What parallels can you draw between this dance step and the psychological or emotional shift that Steve Stephens must undergo in the novel? How does the motif of tap dancing function beyond a colorful background detail to become a metaphor for reinvention?

Pat: The emphasis is on the word “change,” which is what this book is all about. The changes we go through as we age, as we deal with the life we’ve lived. Roxy’s dancing is less about performance and more about what we show the world. She’s always sunny on the outside, but it’s through her dancing she reveals her true self. When she’s angry, she stomps out the dance steps.

There’s a scene I love, where Roxy is dancing in her private studio and is talking to Steve about Billie Holiday, a woman who had a profound influence on his life. I think the last line of the scene is also Roxy talking to herself, acknowledging she won’t be able to save Steve:

“I’ve known every kind of performer. For some, the only time they are alive is when they are under those lights. And oh, how warm and bright and inviting they are. But they’re hot. And they can burn you. Blind you. When you’re on a stage, most of the time you can’t see beyond those lights. All you can do is perform and perform and give and give and hope like hell that somebody is out there watching and that there’s applause at the end. Because that’s the only thing that makes some people feel whole. Without the audience, without the applause, they’re like that shirt. Empty.”

“Some performers,” Roxy said, “are the opposite. They’re terrified of the lights, throw up with nerves before every performance, and suffer almost debilitating impostor syndrome. They throw themselves into the light to prove they can. I found that for the most part, the ones who crave the light are not nearly as talented as those who are afraid of it.

“And then there’s the last kind. They don’t give a rat’s ass if anyone is listening or watching or boos or applauds. They have something to say, with their voice or their feet or their music or script or libretto, and if they don’t get it out, it’s going to kill them. It comes from the raw places inside, the tormented, hurt places, and the places of abiding faith and profound love. I think Billie was that last kind. It was gonna kill her, but she was going to say her piece anyway. So she used drugs to help ease the hurt and just kept on hurting herself. She couldn’t not hurt. And for those people, Steve, the ones with real gifts to give to the world, we can all be grateful. But we can’t save them. No matter how hard we love somebody, no matter how we pray or wish, we can’t save them.”

The synopsis highlights the core contrasts between Steve (Black, “law and order, straight arrow”) and Roxy (white, “a bit more flexible”). In a novel focused on late-life romance and renewal, how do you manage to address these significant differences in race, background, and moral philosophy without letting them overshadow the tender, central relationship? What do their differences teach them about each other and themselves?

KLC: Both Pat and I are colorblind and judge people by the content of their character. Having a mixed-race relationship gives us the opportunity to explore our common humanity and differences, hopefully in a productive way.

Pat: Bringing Steve to life on the page was probably the scariest and most intensely satisfying thing I’ve ever written. I am not a person of color and hesitated to write a main character who is an eighty-year-old Black man. My lived experience is nothing like his. I respect what is called “own voices” and was concerned about overstepping. I am eternally grateful to all those who share their stories and their culture on blogs, in articles, and across the internet. I hope I’ve treated Steve with respect and dignity and that I’ve accurately captured some of his truth.

While I have always had some understanding of the unfairness in the lives of those who are not white and cisgendered, in researching what Steve’s life could be like, my eyes and heart were more widely opened to the historical pain and injustices so many have endured and still endure on a daily basis. I was also enriched as I discovered more about the culture of Black Americans as I explored the food and beauty and music, the rich humor, and the importance of faith, family, and traditions that suffuse Black lives.

Roxy sees and acknowledges the difference in their skin color; it just doesn’t matter one bit for her. She finds the differences in their moral philosophies to be a delightful challenge to hone her rapier wit against rather than something to dislike. I found myself immensely sad and deeply angry at the way men like Steve were treated in the Jim Crow era, and during Vietnam, and in many ways are still treated today, and I let Roxy be my voice for that.

For instance, there is this note in the Acknowledgment section of the book, from 2021:

This article linked below will provide more insight into the injustice of how Black veterans were denied their GI benefits:
https://www.history.com/news/gi-bill-black-wwii-veterans-benefits

On December 7, 2020, U.S. Congressman Seth Moulton (MA 06) and House Majority Whip James E. Clyburn (SC 06) introduced the Sgt. Isaac Woodard Jr. and Sgt. Joseph H. Maddox GI Bill Repair Act of 2020 in the House of Representatives in an attempt to rectify these past injustices. The bill was reintroduced by them in the House on November 11, 2021, and by Senator Reverend Raphael Warnock (D GA) in the Senate. While the bill has been introduced, no further action has been taken as of this date, and it is predicted to only have a 4 percent chance of passing.

The bill died in Congress in 2021. It was reintroduced again in 2023, and again in 2025. These Black veterans are still waiting. If Roxy were real, she’d probably be writing angry letters and staging sit-ins in Congressional offices on behalf of Steve.

The characters “come from fly-speck towns and tough beginnings,” suggesting a common ground of hard-fought experience. How important was the concept of “place” and small-town grit in defining their respective worldviews, and how does this shared history of struggle serve as the unifier despite their evident differences in temperament and approach to life?

KLC: Both Pat and I came from humble backgrounds and with focus and determination made something of ourselves. I was determined to transcend what seemed to be an inevitably dismal life. The idea that you can invent and reinvent yourself and, despite any odds, achieve, will naturally infuse our work.

Pat: In spite of outward differences, Steve and Roxy have much in common: a small-town upbringing, poverty, and prejudice, him for his color, her for her gender, and something deep inside that made them strive for something more, something better, to defy the boxes society wanted to put them in.

While my upbringing was more lily white small suburbia, Roxy’s hometown is based 100 percent on the tiny, poverty-ridden town my husband grew up in and the stories he’s told me about it. Raised by his single mother, who really did lambast a congregation after being called out by the preacher for her flamboyant hand-me-down dress, and his Hungarian grandmother (a story Roxy tells), he really was chased through the yard by a headless chicken (just like Roxy) and witnessed a man falling from the sky, a man who really was covered up with a screen door by a well-meaning neighbor (also recounted by Roxy).

The stories have been embellished for this novel, but not by much. Real life is usually more interesting than anything I could make up. Steve’s entire worldview is shaped by his upbringing in a tiny rural town in Mississippi in the forties, but a chance meeting with Billie Holiday alters the entire trajectory of his life and shows him there’s something more, something bigger.

Ken has a saying that’s become a favorite of mine: “He didn’t know how to dream big enough.” Roxy and Steve have both stretched beyond the limits society tried to impose on them and learned to “dream big enough.” Steve made it his mission to clean up what he sees as a stinking mess of a world. Roxy made it her mission to spread joy wherever she could. Neither one of them is ever willing to take “no” for an answer.

Ken described you, Pat, as “brilliant” with “strong opinions” but having a deep-seated “shyness and defensiveness,” a self-proclaimed “master at deflecting attention.” How does this profoundly introverted nature inform your writing, particularly when tackling a story with such expressive and overtly un-shy characters like Roxy? Does writing serve as an outlet for expressing the “thunder” that you typically keep guarded?

Pat: First of all, thank you to Ken for the kind words. I’m not a prolific writer, but when I do write, I throw my whole heart and soul into it. Being introverted means I’m often busy just being observant. Writers are natural magpies, which is a polite way of saying we don’t hesitate to steal the shiny bits of other people’s lives and incorporate them into our stories.

A number of scenes in this book came about through writerly theft, or homage as I prefer to call it. Some of Roxy’s best stories of New York are based on the real-life tales told by my sister. Newly arrived from Ohio, she really did venture into Harlem in search of KFC biscuits, like Roxy. A vegetarian with her own real business similar to Roxy’s Obscurities, she once was tasked with retrieving goose wings and truly was having a very bad day when she shoved past a befuddled mugger on the subway on her way to a modeling cattle call. All those stories became Roxy’s, with a little fancy lace added here and there.

Reading has always been a way for people to vicariously live other lives for a while. Writing is the same thing, only better. I am a tough and resilient person, with my own share of hard times and sorrow and happiness, like Roxy, but I will never be a tap-dancing extrovert like her. I loved being in the drama club in school but would never be on the stage, preferring to direct or work behind the scenes. But writing this book, for a little while I got to see what that kind of life would be like. And she taught me things, too, like always looking for the silver lining.

Given that the central character is a former Rockette and the book title is a dance step, it implies a certain rhythm to the prose. Did you listen to any specific music while writing? And if Shuffle Ball Change were adapted into a film, what five songs would be on the essential soundtrack to capture the story’s emotional arc?

Pat: Oooo, a movie! I can only listen to one specific album when writing. I’ve trained my brain that when it hears the opening notes of Mozart’s Symphony No. 36 in C major, K. 425, also known as the Linz Symphony, that it’s time to write.

But yes, other music was very, very important in this novel. Early on, Ken mentioned that he’d love it if Steve could meet Billie Holiday, also known as Lady Day. She’s a recurring character in a number of his novels, across multiple series and genres. So I figured out how to make that happen in this book. It turned out to be the magic key that unlocked everything else.

Sometimes, if a writer is very, very lucky, there will be some serendipitous moment in the process of struggling to get out the words, the kind of lightning and thunder insight that sends shivers down your spine, and suddenly the whole story blooms like a magical flower in front of you and you can see every plot point and theme and twist. That’s what happened when I introduced Steve to Lady Day.

She was the flickering, fragile thread that became the catalyst for so much of Steve’s life. He became a cop to fight drug dealers, like those he blamed for Lady Day’s tragic death by overdose. He became fiercely protective because of her. When Roxy dances, it’s Lady Day’s music that calls Steve back to life, and it’s Lady Day who’s waiting for him when he dies.

As an “Easter egg” to Billie Holiday, Steve’s date with death is paused at T Minus 15:04:07. Ms. Holiday’s birthday is 04 07 1915. It was painful and joyful to research her life and listen to her music. Snippets from the following pieces are included in the book, and I encourage people to search them out and listen: Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone, Love Me or Leave Me, and Lady Sings the Blues.

And if that movie’s ever made, I’d want Laurence Fishburne to play Steve, and someone like either Allison Janney or Helena Bonham Carter to play Roxy.

Since the events “intersect and entangle” with Ken’s other work, what specific structural or logistical techniques did you employ to ensure the timelines and canonical facts aligned seamlessly? Did you have a master calendar, frequent check-ins, or a set of defined “do not cross” narrative boundaries established before you began writing?

KLC: There was nothing formal. In Immortality, LLC, Roxy was a sketch, somewhat of a cipher. Pat demanded the power to have her way with her. It could not have worked any other way. I provided a pencil sketch, and Pat created a detailed masterpiece of backstory and characterization.

Pat: I think we started with some kind of shared Google doc, which I quickly threw out the window. I’m grateful Ken just gave me the sketch and let me go wild with it. Now and then I might remember to email him and let him know I was still working on the book, but he never asked for anything and let me go my own way at my own pace. It was a lovely way to work.

I kept an excruciatingly detailed “book bible” in an Excel spreadsheet, with multiple color-coded tabs, which is how I write everything. With tales from Steve and Roxy that recalled prior decades and intersected with real historical events, and a story timeline that only lasted mere weeks, it was important to keep detailed notes about dates and places and events.

I used to be a computer programmer, and a lot of that highly linear thinking goes into my writing, although I’m more of a pantser than a plotter. I read Ken’s books, both Immortality, LLC and The Sandcastles of Irakkistan, made notes of immutable plot points, then built around those.

KLC: We could expand on pantsers and plotters. These are broad categories of a writer’s strategy. Pantsers work by the seat of their pants and let the story evolve line by line and scene by scene. A classic example of a pantser is Tim Robbins (Another Roadside Attraction, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, etc.). He had no idea where the story was going; he let it evolve naturally.

Plotters work via outlines and know exactly where a story goes and how it gets there. This is a disciplined and regimented approach to writing. I don’t work to an outline, but I could never write a word without knowing how the story ends.

In a literary market often saturated with stories of youth and early adulthood, what narrative advantages are unlocked by centering a romance and a story of renewal around characters in their sixties and eighties? What truths about life, love, and purpose can only be conveyed through the lens of a genuinely older protagonist?

Pat: While this is a story that includes romantic elements, it’s more a story not only of renewal but of recollection and resilience. Young love is heady and intoxicating and exciting. Love found between older individuals is all that too, but also brings wisdom and experience and patience to the table. There’s not a desperate “last chance” feeling to this romance, but the knowledge that life is fleeting and we should grasp onto whatever joy comes our way while we can. Older people have a lot more history, a lot more stories to share with each other, which is what Roxy and Steve do throughout this novel. It’s about remembering the past, and reconciling with it, good and bad, and embracing whatever the future may bring, no matter how long or short that future may be.

Ken mentioned the “big variety of authors” at Stairway Press. How does the unique, collaborative spirit of Stairway Press foster a creative environment that encourages boundary-pushing projects like this novel? And Pat, as an author who prefers written responses and has a degree of shyness, how have you found your niche within this group of writers? I have to say, I completely relate… despite having interviewed hundreds and hundreds of musicians and authors over the years, I still prefer written interviews myself. There’s something about being able to prepare everything in peace, to carefully think through the questions, and then to allow the author to reflect and share their thoughts in their own time that feels more authentic and meaningful. I’m actually a rather shy person myself, so the written format gives me a comfortable space to connect and communicate more thoughtfully.

Pat: I love that you’re a shy person too! And yes, we do like our time to ponder, and rewrite, and consider. Ken himself is a boundary-pushing, genre-defying author, so it’s no wonder that he enjoys publishing authors who also color outside the lines. Everything else I’ve written (including all those books still hidden in the darkest recesses of my computer) all slot neatly into a recognized niche. This one doesn’t, and it was uniquely satisfying to just let go and let my freak flag fly! My editor kept pestering me to rewrite it to fit more into a specific genre, but the story that wanted to be told just doesn’t. I call it “literary” for lack of a better descriptor. It’s got romantic elements, comedy, tragedy, a little bit of sci-fi, and a lot of discussion of political topics I wanted to get off my chest via the events and conversations between Roxy and Steve.

Very early on, I sent Ken an email with my “outline” of the story. It simply said I wanted to include the following about Roxy:

• grew up in a flea-speck sized town in Ohio
• a Russian immigrant grandmother who believes the secret Russian police are after her and who keeps a shrine to Trotsky in her bedroom
• a Nazarene deacon with a penchant for underage girls
• the AIDS crisis that ravaged the theater world in New York in the 70s and 80s
• a part-time job in the early days working for Bernie Madoff
• worked for a while in Las Vegas, first as a showgirl, then blackjack dealer, then her own business (because she’s smart and has saved her money and maybe committed a little blackmail here and there)
• since Roxy is born approximately 1950, it’s a great opportunity to discuss AIDS, feminism, birth control, and the June Taylor dancers

Nearly all of that made it into the book, one way or another. I love that Ken didn’t bat an eye, but just said “Go for it.”

Steve’s initial state is one where he is actively contemplating his “exit strategy.” This is a profoundly resonant concept for many readers facing late-life depression, illness, or loss of purpose. What message do you hope readers take away from watching his “exit strategy” get “blown up” by a red-headed typhoon?

Pat: Every person has the right to choose their own path. But I wanted people to know there are other options. There’s one line where the little voice in Roxy’s head, one that constantly prods her where she needs to be, says, “How do you know what can be won if you stop trying to win?” She’s never going to stop fighting. That’s a message I want people to hear.

One of my favorite moments comes when Steve decides that perhaps he should stick around, in spite of what he knows is coming. He and Roxy have just had an argument. He’s walked out. He’s on his way to self-destruction. And then he hears Roxy dancing to Billie Holiday:

The music slowed. The tempo changed. Billie Holiday called out to him again.
Love me or leave me or let me be lonely.
Steve wanted to close his eyes, to melt into the past before everything got so complicated. So ugly. But he didn’t want to miss one single second of Roxy dancing. He didn’t want to miss one single second of Roxy. Period. Dancing, cooking, laughing, arguing with him. Generous, giving, brimming-with-life Roxy.
She’d been right. He’d never needed anybody before.
And now she was wrong.
He needed her.
Not just to keep himself from dying alone. But because whatever tiny sliver of life he had left in him should be spent right down to the nub. If he was going out, he was going to do it knowing he hadn’t wasted a single second of the time he’d been allotted.
God, why did love have to walk in the door just as he was walking out?

Ken, how does Shuffle Ball Change broaden or recalibrate the established scope of the Glen Wilson Universe? Does this novel, with its focus on intimate human connection and the pursuit of joy, hint at a new tonal direction or thematic expansion for your series moving forward?

KLC: The next novel in the Glen Wilson series is called The King of Alaska. Roxy is joining the motley crew and will be a fun character to watch as she integrates into Glen’s team and makes her contributions to the mission. One thing important to me is she carries Steve Stevens into the future. She is a link to him. As long as she’s dancing, a piece of Steve is still alive. I need that.

The novel ends with the promise of a new “dance.” Do you foresee a future for Steve and Roxy, either in a direct sequel or as supporting characters in upcoming works within the Glen Wilson Universe? Will Pat Edwards be asked to contribute a “tap” or a “ball change” to the dance floor again?

KLC: Pat is capable of a lot of different things. So, the question is, what filters to the top and becomes a project worthy of investing in? We don’t know. And we like it that way.

Pat: I don’t know if I’ll be participating in the series in the future, but I deliberately wrote an epilogue in Shuffle Ball Change to give Ken some ideas and characters he can use however he wants. They belong fully to him now.

There’s Emmy Jackson, daughter of one of Steve’s cop friends, with a newly minted master’s in security and intelligence, an upcoming interview with the FBI, and a specialty in stochastic terrorism. There’s a possible romantic interest for Emmy with Iggy Diaz, son of a well-to-do Puerto Rican realtor friend of Roxy’s and an architecture major, who, as Glen Wilson’s sometimes security advisor Murphy notes, would make him great at knowing exactly where to place bombs to bring down a building.

And there’s Roxy herself, with more secrets up her sleeve and hidden depths to be discovered. As Murphy says:

Glen, in typical fashion, had missed the most important truth about Roxy.
She never gave up when someone she loved had been wronged.
One of these days, the woman was going to stop grieving and wake up. And she was going to start wondering about Steve’s death. Asking questions that might get complicated.
Murphy knew women like Roxy. She was like that herself.
Persistent. Stubborn. Fearless.
She’d come looking for answers.
Maybe for something more.
And on that fine day, when the name Glen Wilson finally surfaced in Roxy’s brain, Murphy would be ready for her phone call.
Because Murphy wasn’t in the mood to forgive Glen either.

I can hardly wait to see what Ken does with Roxy and her friends next!

Interview and introduction by Klemen Breznikar
It’s Psychedelic Baby! Magazine