Location. Location. Location. If you've been writing a series, the setting is probably fixed, with a few forays per book into new places, but you know where your character hangs out--think Stephanie Plum's New Jersey with the office and her apartment and her parents place; think Evanovich in St. Teresa with the garage apartment, the Hungarian restaurant and Henry's kitchen. Spenser's Boston. Of course Jack Reacher has no place to hang his hat.
But normally in a series, the characters and the setting are familiar, at least for a portion of the book. You can describe the places your character hangs out in your sleep, and if he or she moseys somewhere else, well, you can just go there and do your own research. Maybe she eats at a nice restaurant. Hey,you could try out the menu offerings, too.
But in a stand alone novel, not only are the characters new, but so are the places. 1928 California! They're tearing down those old houses as we write. So much has been lost. Yet one wants authentic details. This is hard work, she whined. Grapeshot does a lot of whining when she's not sucking it up, and chances are, she's whining then, too. For shame!
So I have a trip to California planned, hoping that some of 1928 remains. That's when the Los Angeles City Hall was completed. They are still a few little places and some houses left. We thank the heavens for historical societies and photographs and the web. Images of old Mexicali are scarcer than hen's teeth. One will have to dig.
So, onward into the past. I hope you have saved all the old family photo albums. Did you know you can sell slide collections on EBAY? It's a piece of history, and so much the better if you have Disneyland, Yellowstone and Coney Island. Who would have thunk.
Wondering,
Grapeshot
Thursday, October 11, 2007
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