My novel, Avenging Janie, resulted from the many discussions I have had with students over the years about why people believe the things they believe, especially psychic claims.

So often they would comment: "They'd have to be stupid to believe that!" I don't agree. I think people will often believe a claim which seems ridiculous to others because they have a very real need.  So I accepted their challenge to prove my point. I believe fiction is the best way to do this. But then, as Marie, my narrator, would respond:

"People believe what they want to believe, don't they?"
 
I worry how little our society allows us to talk about our beliefs, especially when they are in a state of flux. If Janie had been able to express her doubts openly with her family and friends, would she still be alive?

I worry also about the nature of truth. I confess now to telling small lies when I want to avoid hurting someone. I believe they are harmless, or that's how I justify my lies.

Should Janie have been told the truth about the Movement when it was offering her so much comfort? When? By whom?

Here's what written on the back cover: