The first piece of
advice given to any writer is to write what you know. Actually, the first piece
of advice is don’t quit your day job, but that makes a depressing post and tis
is the season to be jolly.
When I decided I wanted
to write a novel, I took that write what you know business to heart. I wrote
about a Midwestern girl who jumps in her car and travels to the West Coast,
something that I had done. The problem was I didn’t know how to write a novel.
To my great surprise, the characters all revolted, and the girl’s car broke
down in Amarillo.
What the hell did I know
about Amarillo? I’ve been there once, long enough to visit the American Quarter Horse
Museum, and eat at Cracker Barrel.
That (really sucky) novel
sleeps peacefully on my external hard drive, where I use it for spare parts.
After writing what I
knew turned out so abysmally, I threw caution to the wind and tried writing what
I wanted to know: a mystery. Much like Amarillo, what the hell did I know about
writing a mystery story?
Not much. But I knew how
to read and enjoy them. I knew what to expect when I watched them on TV. I had
to have a crime, and a plucky character who would poke around in all of the
corners, looking for the solution.
As far as writing what I
knew, I used a few familiar things to help me. For example, I made my private
investigator, Peri, a former housecleaner. I like a clean house, and know how
to do it. Having that little background story gave me a bond to her. I like
dirty martinis, so I made that her signature drink.
I also know my hometown
of Placentia, California. It’s a small town squished between other towns. I
know its streets, its neighborhoods, and its feel. I know how it tastes and
smells. Setting a mystery there meant I didn’t have to create someplace else.
I now had a protagonist
and a location that I knew.
As for the mystery part,
well… how does a bland little Midwestern gal inject suspense and thrills that
she’s never experienced?
In the end, I used two
of my own hobbies: puzzle solving and communicating with my husband. Mysteries
are a lot like puzzles. There are pieces that you must gather, data you must
analyze and slip into the correct slot. This translates to clues, alibis, and information
that is collected by the protagonist and the reader in order to come to the “AHA”
moment.
As far as my husband is
concerned, I am married to possibly the most laconic man on the planet. He also
possesses a soft, deep voice, which is sometimes inaudible to me due to some
hearing loss at the lower registers (yes, too many concerts in my youth). If I
want to know anything, I can either chase him down and hound him until he speaks
clearly, or just follow the clues he leaves behind.
I remember one day, when
we were supposed to meet friends for lunch. It was in the days before cell
phones and there was a mix-up at the restaurants, and we were trying to figure
out whether Dale would be able to find us. I mentioned that he had taken clean
clothes with him that morning, so he was probably changing at the tennis club,
making it useless to leave a message on the home phone.
One of the women looked
at me, agog. “Don’t you two ever talk?”
Well, not that much. I
make assumptions about where he’s gone, what he’s doing, and what my next move
should be, if any. Maybe I am a private investigator. A very private one.
I’ve now written three
Peri mysteries (and one short), and a lot of times I feel like I’m in the weeds
and don’t know why I’m not writing what I know. That’s when I remember my
horrible first novel, and I go do a little research until I can move forward.
I hope this gives other
writers the encouragement to take what you do know, write it into what you don’t,
and stop stressing about the rest. It’s fiction, people. You don’t have to get
it right. You just have to get it believable.
And if readers think
that I make writing sound like it’s as unknown as most of life in general,
well, it’s true. We don’t just want to tell you a story. We want to lead you
through an experience.
If we knew where we were
going, it wouldn’t be half as much fun.
