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| Credit to Tom Watterson/Calvin and Hobbes |
The
number one rule writers are taught in the hard-knock school of writing is
“write what you know.” Which is all fine and good, unless you are a pushing-social-security-age,
rule-following female who writes about murder. I am going to put this out there
to all of my past, present and future readers, I HAVE NEVER KILLED ANYONE just
to research a book (or for any reason, for that matter). Nor have I ever
stumbled across a dead body lying in the garden or sitting in an empty garage
or floating in the surf (my husband has, but that’s another story for another
day.) The only dead bodies I have seen/touched have been prettified, with hair
styled, dressed in their best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, lying in a casket.
But
I will admit to having done a few things, all in the name of research.
For
“Best Friends Help You Move the Body” in Virginia is for Mysteries, we
were tasked with
using a Virginia landmark as our setting for our short
mystery. Living—and loving—life near the Chesapeake Bay, I thought setting a
story at the infamous Cape Henry Lighthouse would be just the ticket. One
Saturday I mentioned to my husband that I would like to tour a local historical
site. He was SOOOO excited (it was a far cry from my usual request of a trip to
the mall, traipsing through open houses or a rainy afternoon watching romantic
comedies.) So we journeyed to the lighthouse. While he read through all the
historical placards spaced around the perimeter of the lighthouse, I looked
around for the best place to hide a dead body. Well, turns out the area around
the lighthouse is pretty barren, lots of sand and sea grass. Not many good body-hiding
spots. I had to rethink the story entirely (and I’m very happy with how that
turned out.)
For
my Blonds at the Beach stories, my main character is on the hefty size (tall
and wide), and I needed her to fit inside a mini cooper. I found a fellow
writer who owns a sporty 2-door coupe,
recruited my tallest friend, tied a few
pillows around her and stuffed her (literally) into the driver’s seat. Truth be
told, I about wet my pants when she tried to get out (Oh, if only cell phones
with video capability been around then!) I also asked another friend if I could
drive his Porsche for a chase scene I was developing. I'm sure he imagined a calamity
in the making. (I know I would!) I had to settle for a ride in the passenger
seat, at (or under) posted speed limits.
Most
of my stories involve some sort of adult beverage, so I host happy hours with the
various concoctions mentioned, a Basil Lime Martini (featured in “Pawsitively
Scandalous”/To Fetch a Scoundrel) being a particular favorite. In
order to write about wine with a modicum of authority, I took
an eight-hour
wine class (I know, it was quite a sacrifice!), during which I scribbled
copious notes, and tasted lots of very expensive wines. The main takeaway from
that education is that I honestly don’t have the palate to discern the
difference between a $100 bottle of wine and a $10 bottle. Lucky for my budget!
The one thing I did learn was the advantages of a Stelvin Cap over a cork. To
further my "research", I also attend weekly wine tastings at my local
wine shop, learning about the various grapes and their flavors from someone who
has a master’s degree in wine. Know that a great deal of research has gone into
the wine-aspect of my stories. (I know…it’s a tough gig, but somebody’s got to
do it!)
But
I do “write what I know” when it comes to beach life. Having been married to a
U.S. Navy officer, we’ve spent most of our forty years together near the shore.
I love the beach: the feel of cool
sand between my toes; studying the different
“moods” the oceans and bays exhibit; the squawking of the seagulls fighting
over a discarded PB&J sandwich; the fresh salt air that never fails to calm
my worried soul. I will continue to enjoy “beach life” in order to write with
authority as long as I need to. Yes, I’m willing to make that sacrifice for
you, dear readers.
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