I’ve spent a lot of time on Sandhill Island developing the characters I love and some I didn’t. But they were important to the story. The small-town atmosphere has both nosey neighbors and camaraderie between people who live in the same area. And I decided it was time to move on and let them live their lives in peace.
But one last time to set the record straight, the island lives even though it has had many hardships from hurricanes to fires, to strangers up to no good, the island still endures.
Drugs and alcohol can change people—good people—who are under the influence of foreign substances and their lives and those around them are changed forever.
Dani was the older sister and always thought she was in charge. She took care of her brother, Cody, her mother, and in the end her uncle. She worked hard to keep the family together like a parent, even though she wasn’t. And her little brother was jealous. He was treated like a child, and he fell into that category. He didn’t want to work, that was for Dani, but he expected the same treatment. While his sister worked daily to scrape together a living, he sold drugs and maybe used a few for himself. Then the bad guys expected more of him and his sister whether she was involved or not.
Dani Brown grew up poor and hard working. Her brother, Cody, only grew up poor. Always wanting the easy way out, Cody ran drugs and lived his life on handouts. When they were young, Dani and Cody were inseparable, now Dani only sees him if he’s desperate. The drugs he samples and sells have started to rot his brain.
This time, Cody owes some big money, and the only person he knows to help him is his sister. When the cartel realizes she owns a boat that could run even more drugs for them, she is torn between saving her brother and living her life. The final Sandhill Island story pits sister against brother in a life-or-death struggle.
I met Faith Phillips a couple of years ago at a Library Festival at the Oklahoma City Municipal Library. We shared the elevator together and I loved her cowboy boots. Then I found out she was the speaker! I was there that day representing Tornado Alley and had other things I had to attend to, so I was in and out of her presentation. She was probably tired of that, but she was gracious. Then I found her on Facebook and invited her to speak at the Enid Writers Club fall workshop. Everyone loved her. Since then, we’ve developed a relationship based around books and writing. She is a novelist, screen writer, TV producer and a great proponent of the art. She is incredibly busy, but she agreed to this interview like always. I asked her a few questions.
1. What drives you to write?
This is such an interesting question. What drives me to write? The truth is, when I’m writing, everything feels right in the world. Time is suspended. I don’t need to eat or drink. I don’t need anything except that feeling of creation.
I wrote my first book when I was six years old. It was a work of supernatural fiction called Grandma and the Water Gnome. Hah! So, I think if I was compelled to write at that age, perhaps I was just born that way.
I love mystery. I prefer to live a life of great mystery. So, I’m ok with not knowing exactly how to explain why I’m compelled to write.
2. What genre(s) do you write, and why?
I write fiction, true crime, and essays/memoir. My great dream in life was to become a great writer of literary fiction. My first book was a fiction supernatural thriller. But my career didn’t really take off until my third book, a true crime novel about the 2008 Weleetka murders. This was not my plan. The book basically fell in my lap and when I heard the story from the woman who prosecuted the murders, I knew without a doubt that it had to be written. After that, I planned to get back to fiction. As it turns out, people have a powerful response to my non-fiction writing. So, I have been riding that wave since 2015 and it hasn’t crested yet. I still plan to get back to fiction, but so far, my plans have failed in a most spectacular fashion.
3. What genre(s) do you read, and why?
I started reading Stephen King at a completely inappropriate age. I think Pet Sematary is the one that hooked me first. I was a really good kid, straight A’s, class president, church every Sunday. But I had this secret life with Stephen King, and I still feel a little guilty about it. I also love the humor writing of David Sedaris. Basically, if you can scare me and make me laugh at the same time, we are going to get along just fine.
4. What’s your writing schedule? Do you write every day?
I really want to tell you that I write every day, but I don’t. When I’m writing a book or a screenplay I go into obsessive mode, and I’ll write up to 5,000 words a day. My mind just grabs onto the story and won’t let go until I finish. Then I’ll take a break until the next project.
I do journal every day but that’s not the same as when I’m on a project. When I’m on a project I’ll start writing around 10 a.m. and finish around 2 or 3 p.m. Then I’ll do some editing in the evening. But I confess I’m more of a binge writer than a disciplined writer. I’m trying to get better about that part.
5. What pulled you into writing and did you always want to be a writer?
I have always been writing I just didn’t realize as a kid that it might become a career. As a young person, authors seemed like rock stars to me. No one in my periphery did anything like that. Matter of fact, it’s a little bit insane to pursue a career in the arts where I’m from. People said that to me when I moved back home to write books. They just couldn’t believe that I would do something so irrational as to leave a law career to write books. And they were probably right.
6. Tell us about your screen writing and television production and how you got into it.
It’s a strange story. I think I could say I spoke it into existence. My fourth book came out and Iwas somewhat frustrated with the trajectory of my writing career. I wondered if maybe I would spend the rest of my life as a local author – not that there’s anything wrong with that – but I am nothing if not ambitious. So, I decided I would study screenwriting, thinking I might adapt my books into screenplays. I was in the process of learning when a production company contacted me to ask about using my book on the Weleetka murders for a tv series. It just so happened that I had come upon some new information in another notorious cold case and I just pitched it to the producers. The next thing I knew, I was arguing with Nancy Grave on national television. I genuinely had no idea what I was doing. That’s how I sold my first tv series. Since then, I’ve been adapting my true crime into scripted feature films and tv shows. They’ve been winning awards so it seems like I may be on to something. All will be revealed.
7. Tell us about your latest work in progress.
After self-publishing for fifteen years, I’ve just signed with Bloomsbury Publishing. This is the largest indie publishing house in the world, and they discovered JK Rowling. So, it’s going to be a whole new world for me. Here’s the logline:
Faith Phillips, a Cherokee true crime novelist, targets eight cases of missing and murdered indigenous women that she believes are all solvable. The author, with a proven track record of re-opening official cold case investigations, travels to each of the eight tribes across North America to document the crimes, share the intimate grief of families who continue to search for their missing women, and coordinate resources between state, tribal, and federal governments to demand answers, once and for all.
I also have a feature screenplay in development. It’s a thriller called Mankiller Shell and it is an adaptation of my experiences in true crime. We’re making movies, baby!
8. Tell us one unusual thing about yourself – not related to writing!
I have experienced prophetic dreams since I was in grade school. I woke up crying telling my parents that I couldn’t go to school because the bus was going to crash. They said don’t be silly and put me on the bus. Guess what happened next?
9. Who was your first love and what age were you?
Oh boy, I’m a strange bird, in that I fall in love all the time. Don’t tell my husband I said that. I just mean I see Creation in all people, so I’m in awe of them. So, I’ve been falling in love as long as I can remember. But if we had to say first romantic love it must be my first boyfriend, named Gator. He was a wrestler who took me to the opera and that was it, I was totally gone. I would have married him and had a family except that he cheated on me in the girls’ restroom of the high school gym with one of my classmates. It was the first of a long string of violently broken hearts. It’s ok though, I got better.
Most importantly, the love of my life is Mark Hinson. We have been together for ten years now and he’s been a huge supporter of my writing career. Without him, it wouldn’t have happened like this. It isn’t easy to be partnered up with a creative, so Mark deserves all the accolades.
10. If you could relive one day, which one would it be? Think GROUNDHOG DAY, the movie for this one – you’ll have to live it over and over and . . .
I would choose Harvest Day at my family’s small vineyard. We all came together to help my dad bring in the grapes, then we de-stem while listening to our favorite music (Leon Russell, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, etc.). We stomp the grapes … sounds gross but it’s one of the best feelings in the world. Mom puts out a huge charcuterie and we share last year’s vintage together. Grandma would bring a homemade chocolate pie while the kids run around with grape stains on their faces. That’s all. Let it be again.
11. What three words describe you, the person?
Peculiar. Cunning. Awestruck.
I asked Faith for her bio and here is what she says:
Creator / Executive Producer
Faith Phillips, a citizen of the Cherokee Nation, is known for her work as a novelist, screenwriter, and producer living in the Ozark foothills. She created, wrote, and executive-produced the national docu-series The Girl Scout Murders in 2022.
Her third book, Now I Lay Me Down, is an Oklahoma best seller selected for development with legendary documentarian Stanley Nelson and the HULU/Firelight Kindling Fund. Phillips adapted her true crime novel into an original pilot, Bad Creek Bridge, a finalist in the SeriesFest TV Lab. She is also the creator of the crime noir series Cadaver Dog.
Faith’s feature screenplay Mankiller Shell was selected as a finalist for the Almanack Screenwriters Colony. She was also named a 2024 recipient of the Netflix Native American Writer Accelerator Grant. Phillips recently signed with Bloomsbury Publishing to pen an MMIW true crime novel, due for release in 2026.
Coming in 2026:
Missing & Murdered
Bloomsbury Publishing
Faith Phillips, a Cherokee true crime novelist, targets eight cases of missing and murdered indigenous women that she believes are all solvable. The author, with a proven track record of re-opening official cold case investigations, travels to each of the eight tribes across North America to document the crimes, share the intimate grief of families who continue to search for their missing women, and coordinate resources between state, tribal, and federal governments to demand answers, once and for all.
Last year for Christmas I got a Shark (Rumba type) vacuum cleaner. I love it! I was writing a story the other day, and the vacuum cleaner was vacuuming the floor, the dishwasher was washing the dishes, and the washing machine was cleaning my clothes. All. At. Once. I was in heaven. The older I get the more I appreciate the little things, like a clean house without the work it takes to get there.
For ease of explanation, I will admit to the fact that I love the new vacuum so much I named her Rosie like the Jetson’s maid who was a robot. My husband and I are the only ones in the house, and we aren’t that dirty. No kids anymore or pets, just us. So, I run Rosie about once a week.
Rosie does a pretty good job most of the time, but she doesn’t get the corners, and blinds, under some tables, etc., and I have to clean up now and then. But that is to be expected.
Then a very ironic thing happened. I walked into the dining room where Rosie docks and waits for her next assignment and draped over the vacuum cleaner was a huge cobweb! I know that it is Indian Summer and just before fall officially hits, the spiders and other creatures make one last triumphant return to the world, or maybe they are looking for a good place to winter, but this was ridiculous. And it got worse. I got the push vacuum out and pulled out the hoses to vacuum up the mess, aware of the irony of vacuuming the vacuuming cleaner, and found the web draped all the way across the back door and into the corner of the room. I know I’ve been out that door several times since the last time I ran Rosie. That spider was speedy!
I vacuumed the vacuum cleaner and then the back door and the corner. There were bugs in it and I destroyed what was supposed to be a feast. They all went into the upright vacuum cleaner and then into the trash. Nice try, spider, maybe next time. But Rosie and I are ready for you. There is a rule in this house, if you don’t pay rent, you don’t live here. Find another place. I never did find the homebuilder. I’m sure I’ll run into him eventually. I really hate spiders.
What are you reading, writing, cleaning, or creating this week?
The weather has been unusual this summer. I think anyone in the Midwest will agree with that. It makes me wonder what our winter weather will be like. It was cool and wet this summer, will it be cold and snowy this winter? I can’t predict the future, but if I could, I’d say cold and snowy.
This time of year, is called “Indian Summer.” I really don’t know why, but it is the last time the vegetation can grow with abandon, and it gives it one last try.
For many years I have had a basil crop along the fence in the backyard. I do very little with it. Right now, it is chest high. Sometimes I make pesto. Mostly it seems to be for the bees and butterflies and other critters. It reseeds itself and comes back each spring. I am just in charge of watering it and walking around it as it falls over, smelling like heaven.
The other day, my husband was getting ready to mow and he said, “I am going to end up hitting your basil, it is leaning over and in the way.” It has become so tall and unruly that it is a menace. I went out and used some small 2-foot-tall fencing to help hold it up out of the way. It didn’t work. Then my husband came out with a sign that we’ve used many times over the years. It is a “For Sale” sign that he turned around and wrote “Free Plants” on and we put it by the curb when I was trying to clean out another overabundance of vegetation. Those were at least in pots. But I loved the sign. It did help get the overabundance of basil out of the way—and it said it all. If you want some basil, come get it!
Oh, while I was out tending to basil, I saw my first Monarch butterfly of the season. Soon it was joined by another. I guess it’s migration time. That too makes me think of fall and what is next for us. Cold and snowy? Time will tell.
What are you reading, writing, growing, or creating this week?
The neighbor across the street moved out of state last week leaving an empty house. My husband lent him a dolly to help him move his bigger things. Now the neighbor to the south of him has it for the same purpose. He moved out and his neighbors to the north did too. Three empty houses in a row. Now his neighbor to the south is moving into the house to the north! It’s been a comedy of errors watching it all happen.
Three houses in a row are being cleaned out and refilled. I watched a washer and dryer set move into the house on the south only to watch the washer/dryer set in the south house move north. There really was a purpose in this but to watch it out my window as people, much younger than me, ran up and down the street with appliances trying to beat the darkening evening sky may have been the highlight of my week. There was a purple wagon that was getting a workout as it ran back and forth, or maybe it was the person dragging it that was getting the workout.
Now the neighbors to the south are occupying the house to the north as they run up and down the street with wagons, trailers, and dollies. And they are working like dogs! Just watching them is exhausting. It’s a long weekend and I think they are planning to get it all finished before having to go back to work next week. When it is all done and over with the only house left empty will be the one in the middle—until someone else comes along to fill it. Did you get all that?
So, in keeping with all the work, I am cleaning out years of paperwork from my middle bedroom and finding a shredder. It is past time and I’m not quitting until all that old paperwork is gone. Then I hope to get a grandchild to climb in my attic and hand me down some more. Keeping old papers is crazy. It happened so quickly I didn’t realize what a mess it was. Quickly. After all it was only 29 years.
But the neighbors are encouraging me to move out with the old and in with the new. In my case, just out with the old. Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Right?
What are you reading, writing, moving, or creating this week?
Physical Therapy hurts—sometimes. But it helps—all the time. I have had chronic back issues since before my first back surgery in 2005. I’ve had three and hope I’m not looking at number four in the near future.
I’ve been going to PT (yes, it might stand for pain and torture) for several weeks now and it has helped a lot. After a few falls this year, I had an x-ray, then an MRI, and now surgery has been suggested—again. The disks are deteriorating. Maybe it’s not time yet, but the MRI did explain a few things. The therapist is very gentle and concerned, and then he gives me exercise to do. The degenerative spine disease has raised its ugly head again and he is apprehensive.
Surgery is the last thing I want, and I really need some relief. My legs get weak and wobbly, and I can’t walk for long periods anymore.
And it makes me mad. I’ve always been active. I am now retired and want to travel, but that means a lot of walking to site see. And my legs aren’t up for it, which makes me more determined to take care of myself.
I’m not a couch potato. I want to be active. I have a gym membership that has gone unused for a few months now and I want to get back to it.
I’m trying to get in to see the surgeon and get his opinion. I don’t want this, but I don’t want to end up in a wheelchair if I don’t take care of myself. I’m too active for that. I’ll fight until my last breath to remain on my feet. That is what God gave them to me for.
What are you reading, writing, exercising, or creating this week?
I was stumped this morning as to what to write for my blog and what to eat for breakfast. It was just one of those mornings. Do you get up some days and think you can’t face another piece of toast or bowl of cereal (or egg)? My husband was the same and then I thought, we hadn’t had rice in a while.
When I was a kid my mom would cook rice, like oatmeal, and serve it hot in a bowl with butter and sugar for breakfast. My husband had never heard of it and thought it strange, but he tried it. He found he liked it.
When I had babies one of their first meals was rice cereal. I had no idea what that was when the pediatrician said to give it to them as their first solid food, but I found it in the baby food isle. It looked like Cream of Wheat and the baby thought they were in heaven slurping it off the end of a spoon with a rubber tip. Cooked rice is much the same, but not creamy.
I read a book recently about the wild rice that grows in Minnesota near the lakes, and the residents swear they can taste the difference in the flavor of each lake. I didn’t know rice grew in cold climates, but there’s a lot I don’t know.
Rice is a staple like beans in many cultures. My grandmother lived in the Arkansas Ozarks, and we visited her often. There was a field across the road from her house, and the farmer sometimes grew cotton, and other times they irrigated it and grew rice. That was when the mosquitoes were the worst! When I think of rice growing, I think of pictures of rice paddies in Viet Nam. That is not necessarily the case.
I’m not that much of a rice connoisseur but this morning I cooked instant brown rice instead of instant white and found it didn’t get as soft, no matter how long I cooked it. I think I like white better. There is a difference in types of rice as I’ve seen going down the aisle at the grocery store. And there are people who know rice well. Not me.
At least breakfast wasn’t toast or eggs. It was different and I’m sure it was nutritious. I thought of something for breakfast, and we had a little discussion about it. I hope you don’t think it was weird, but it was a change.
What are you reading, writing, eating, or creating this week?
As a writer, do you ever get distracted and end up with more than one manuscript at a time on your computer? Or is it just me?
I’m like a dog in training who sees a squirrel. I’m sitting my best sit and listening to my master when “squirrel!” And I lose my mind.
I’ve been working on a novel for a while now—something new—when along comes the best idea in the world for a middle grade reader. Squirrel! And I start a new project.
Now I have two, and I need to finish both. I need a sign up in my room, or just a sticky note on my laptop that says “Squirrel!” Or perhaps “Stay.” Because like that dog, I’m in training. I think no matter how long I write, and I don’t see myself ever quitting, I am in training. Not just in training to learn better ways to write, but to keep my mind on one subject. I wonder if all creatives are like me with wandering minds looking for the next big thing.
At least my ideas pop up with abandon and the well has not gone dry, but how can I put them in some sort of order and make all those dreams come true?
In the past when I had several things going at once I looked at word count and finished the one closest to its end first. That’s not a bad idea, but when you’re stuck on one project those other ideas creep up on you. This time, I’m stuck on the big project, and the smaller project is calling my name.
I guess just to finish one is the best idea. Whichever one it is, finish something! What do you think, should I finish the big one with the longer word count or go with the one that keeps drawing me back?
I need help.
What are you reading, writing, or creating this week? Squirrel!
I wrote four books set on the fictional island of Sandhill. It is off the coast of Corpus Christi, TX in the Gulf of Mexico where I’ve visited many times. But not as often as I would like. I love the laid-back attitude of the people and the way they live and work next to the water that can be their friend or their enemy at any given time.
The first book, Secrets of Sandhill Island is the story of a woman who only thought she was living her life under the radar and escaping her neighbors. She was ashamed of her past and came back to live in the only place she had ever felt comfortable. Then she meets a new man and soon finds her life threatened. Do those things go together or is the threat from outside her new relationship?
In the second book, Stones of Sandhill Island, a woman also comes home to where she grew up after the death of her husband and son. She has the voice of an angle and has been singing in the Corpus Christi jazz district for years, then she goes home to take care of her mother and sing at a restaurant on the island on the weekends. Her mental health is fragile, and she is home to heal, but the man who killed her family has other ideas. She struggles to save herself, her mother, and her friends while she once again makes a name for herself as a singer back home where she grew up.
I took a little break and created a novella for my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, when they asked for stories set on an beach with ice cream. Hummmmm, there’s a thought. I created an ice cream shop on Sandhill Island. So, we were off once more with Strawberry Sundae Delights, in their One Scoop or Two series, set on Sandhill Island. This story was a little lighter but included a romance and some intrigue when a man from the mainland insists on buying the ice cream shop that is not for sale.
I decided to end the series with another suspense novel, Smugglers of Sandhill Island. In this story of drug smugglers and family ties, the brother and sister try to live their lives in peace, but it is soon evident that the Mexican cartel will not allow that.
In this series there is no main character throughout the books except the island. It is a story of all the people who make their home on the water and the things they go through. I tried to tie all the stories up in the final book so you would know what happened to them and their lives. Each book is a standalone and you can read them out of order, but I hope you read them all. They are available on Amazon or Barnes & Noble in paperback form or electronically. The novella, Strawberry Sundae Delights is only available electronically. Check them out and leave me a review. I hope you like them and enjoy a beach read as summer comes to an end.
What are you reading, writing, or traveling to this week?
My husband and I have traveled a lot in our lives, though not as much as I would have liked. I have a wondering soul, but with my champagne taste came a beer pocketbook. And an aging body. But still we saw parts of the world. Some of our trips were more successful than others.
When the kids were young and we were broke, we mostly travelled to places where we could stay in a tent or cheap cabin (some were not good).
We drove from Enid, Oklahoma to Chicago, Illinois after work one night to be at my sisters’ for Thanksgiving dinner. When it was my turn to drive—in the middle of the night after working all day, with a three-year-old asleep in the backseat—I woke up to flashing lights when I almost slammed into a barrier on the interstate. I could have killed all of us.
A few years later, we climbed the Mesa Verde pueblo with the kids. We drove through White Sands and then trekked through Carlsbad Caverns. More climbing but we saw things we’d never seen otherwise.
We tried skiing once. That was a disaster. We left that up to the kids from then on.
A few years later, we finally took a tropical vacation on Mustang Island, Texas in the Gulf of Mexico with the kids. We may or may not have drowned a crab watching him come and go out of his hole. Poor guy. My son got seasick on the deep-sea fishing trip, and my daughter attracted the deck hands. The wind was relentless, and the lifeguards said the sharks were out. We drove home early.
After the kids left home and we both had better jobs, we upgraded our travels. We took two weeks and flew to Johannesburg, South Africa, and then on to Zimbabwe to a hunting camp right on the Zambezi River. The only electricity was produced by a generator and when it turned off at night it was so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. The cabin had mosquito netting over the twin beds and screens over windows that didn’t shut. At night we could hear hippos forage outside our cabin and the lions’ roar in the distance. That expensive trip took a while to pay off, but it was worth it.
But next it was my turn to pick, and we traveled to the Yucatan Peninsula to climb Chichen Itza. They have since closed the pyramid to pedestrians, but we saw the magnificent jungle from the top of the pyramid, climbed down, and lived to talk about it. I got to swim with the dolphins and my husband went on a deep-sea fishing trip.
The following year it was Kauai, Hawaii, and a helicopter trip inside an extinct volcano. The luau was fabulous, and did I mention beaches? I bought pearls. It was a long way from frying eggs in a KOA campground.
We made several small trips here in Oklahoma on the weekends and one of my favorites was to the Heavener Runestone in southeast Oklahoma. We climbed down the stairs into the valley to see the runestone many times and then back up again. The climb is harder than it used to be.
After we retired, we took a combination bus and paddle boat trip down the Missouri and Mississippi rivers. We were the youngest people on the boat, but we saw the rivers in ways you would never see by car.
We now have cell phones so we can stay in touch with family and have enough money to get back home. Even the car is new enough to get us where we’re going without breaking down. So, travel is a little less rustic.
I’m sure I forgot a few trips. But I wouldn’t have traded this life of travel for anything. We were young and poor and still we saw a lot of the United States and a couple of countries. Traveling and seeing other cultures is good for the soul. And my soul, though older than it used to be, has been expanded because of travel.
What are you reading, writing, or traveling to this week?
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
I’ve spent a lot of time on Sandhill Island developing the characters I love and some I didn’t. But they were important to the story. The small-town atmosphere has both nosey neighbors and camaraderie between people who live in the same area. And I decided it was time to move on and let them live their lives in peace.
Peggy Chambers "Views from the Hammock" site 