Keeping It Real?

My friend Maru, visiting from Mexico City, and I went to Excelsior today. We had lunch at Antiquity Rose, then walked down to the little waterfront then up the main street of the town. At first glance, it looks unchanged. Haskell’s, the liquor store, is still there. The Dock, the movie theater is there – but what’s this? The little row of storefronts that faced the lake across a parking lot, their backs against the movie theater, are all gone. And as we walked up Water Street, other, smaller, changes appeared. Some of the little shops have changed hands. There’s a dentist’s office now, on the same street as Antiquity Rose (which has been painted a new color). The tiny jewelry store is still there, and Leipold’s, and Cynthia Rae’s clothing store. And so on. So some things remain, while others are gone. The buildings are the same, but the signs are different. Small changes, but changes. This is not the first time I have noticed that the town is moving along.

The question was, do I reflect all these changes? Some of them? None of them? My readers like visiting Excelsior, it has become as familiar as any of the human characters. One of the pleasures of using a real town is that I didn’t have to invent streets and shops. One of the dangers is that I can’t – or won’t – keep up with the changes.

The question of absolute accuracy was answered some while back, when I disallowed the sushi bar. I mentioned in one book that someone had bought the Waterfront Cafe to make a sushi bar of it, but in the book, the plan failed. Then in a later book, I turned the Waterfront Cafe into a micro brewery, a major change that was totally fictional. But that meant that when the real Excelsior turned the old hardware store into an Irish pub, I couldn’t allow that, either, as it would be too competitive with the Barleywine micro brewery. So I’ve already made some changes to the real town.

It’s sort of the same when I use people I know – with their permission, of course – in a book. I always have to make some changes in their real person for purposes of plot, but at what point do they become real-with-minor-changes and where are they more inspired-by? (You’ve seen movies “based on a real event” or “inspired by the story of” and if you know the real event you know how ephemeral these inspirations can be.)

Those of you with this dilemma, how are you handling it?

Falling in Love

It is not unknown for a writer to fall in love with one or more of her characters – possibly the most notorious was Dorothy Sayers' passion for Lord Peter Wimsey. I know that I become fond of many of my characters, possibly because early in my writing career I read that the afterlife of an author consists of spending eternity in a small room with the characters she has invented. There’s a warning to make them at least interesting if not actually likable.

But sometimes I develop an equally keen pleasure in spending time in a setting I have invented. When I set out to write my first mystery series, I chose to set it at a horse farm. I chose the Arabian horse because the first time I saw one in person, lost my heart to the breed. But the most fun with the setting I had was the beautiful Queen Anne house my heroine lived in. I found a photograph of one I really liked, and drew up a floor plan. A rather clumsy one – floor plans are harder than they look! – but I explained that by saying the original owner had a wife with a whim of iron who kept making demands for changes as the house went up. I subscribed to a house and garden magazine, perused Architectural Digest in doctor's and dentist's offices, and visited high-end furniture stores to interview decorators. I even started a scrapbook with clippings of furniture and architectural details.

Because the nearby town was terribly corrupt, I invented it, too; even drew a city map.

For the Dame Frevisse medieval series, I mostly used two books as sources: Eileen Powers’ Medieval English Nunneries, and Dorothy Hartley’s Lost Country Life, though there was a great deal of secondary reading, too. Having spent two years in England helped as well. Gail had her own sources (down to the names of sheriffs and weather reports from the fifteenth century!). She and I immersed ourselves so deeply in medieval customs and attitudes that I, at least, found coming back to the twentieth century at the end of a book a bit of a shock.

Now I’m writing about an actual small town, Excelsior, Minnesota, with an imaginary needlework shop in it. I have based the layout of the shop on an actual one, unfortunately now closed, and I frequent needlework shops in the area for ideas and methods. One of the pleasure of using a real town is that when I go out there for lunch or shopping, it’s a tax-deductible expense! One small problem is that, because it’s a real town, changes occur that I don’t always like. I have decided, for example, that there is a micro-brewery where the Waterfront Cafe used to stand, when actually it turned into a sushi restaurant. And I’ve kept the hardware store where actually an Irish pub now occupies
the building. But Leipold’s is still there, and Antiquity Rose, and Jim Penberthy still has his law office on Water Street.

Whenever I want to send Betsy out of town, my editor objects on the grounds that Excelsior is another of the running characters in the books. Are there books you read as much for the settings as the plot?

VARIOUS

I went to Excelsior on Sunday to see the movie, “Secretariat.” Excelsior is the home town of my amateur sleuth, Betsy Devonshire, but it’s also a real town, about eighteen minutes from my home in St. Louis Park, Minnesota. I like to go out there every so often to remind myself of the little details about the town that I could use in the books. It’s nice not having to make up the setting for my sleuth.

“Secretariat” is a great movie. Some of the reviewers thought it too corny, too sentimental, and, since it was about the famous racehorse who was the most recent winner of the Triple Crown (the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and the Belmont), the climatic race scene wasn’t very dramatic. I beg to differ. The movie-makers did a great job of showing the four races depicted, capturing the excitement and beauty of thousand-pound animals running with all their hearts; and watching Secretariat just blow the competition away in the third of the Triple Crown races was great! I had forgotten what a blow-out it was: not only smashing the track record, he won by something like thirty-eight lengths, all by itself a record. Plus it was a pleasure to watch a heroine succeed beyond all expectations without turning to violence or sex. A sweet, feel-good movie. We all need to see one of those every once in awhile.

I now own a Kindle. I’m still learning how to use it, but I find it wonderful for travel. It fits in my purse and I can bring practically any number of books along on my trips. Right now I’m buying Agatha Christie novels, because it gives me an extra fillip of pleasure to read something so old on something so new. Do you own one? Do you like it? Do you think it rings the death knell for small, independent bookstores?

I have managed to meet both of my writing heroes: Donald E. Westlake and Terry Pratchett. Both proved gracious and witty, a super combination. I did once meet an author who was rude and obnoxious. I have not bought another of his books since. And no, I won’t mention his name. I have, however, pledged that I will try always to be patient and kind to any fan – or prospective fan - I encounter. I would also, some day, like to write just one something even half as good as their work.

My fall allergies are still running strong. Ordinarily by now, this far into November in Minneapolis, we’ve had a couple of killing frosts, if not an inch or two of snow, and the ragweed is gone till next year. I love lingering autumns, but my nose doesn’t.