I’ve been told I’m pretty tight lipped about the book I’m writing. I don’t deny it. Most of my family doesn’t know it exists. My fear is once I let the cat out of the bag, somehow they’ll manage to magically suck out my creativity. I don’t want to think about my Mother reading my book. And I know she will… and tell all her friends and the rest of my family.
That could mess with my head, as each word I type, I’d think…Oh God, my mother is going to read that… and all her red hat friends and my aunts, uncles and cousins (excuse me while I shudder at the thought).
So I’ll continue to keep it under wraps… for now. I’ll fess up once I sell the movie rights to my book (why aim low?) and I’ll have to explain why my house is suddenly beachfront, three sizes larger and Clooney is on his knees painting my toenails.
I went off course; I was going to talk about Location.
Choosing a location can be a complicated process. It can be as important as the story itself. Sometimes it’s a prop, sometimes it’s a character (a nonspeaking, non-breathing character). So much to think about.
Unless you’re me…
I chose a place I know well. A place that’s as alive as you and me. Somewhere I love like an old friend, who’s never borrowed money from me….New York City, specifically Manhattan.
My lead lives in the Village. I love the Village. It’s quirky, fun and has it’s own beat. There’s a store devoted to just The Big Lebowski (aptly named The Little Lebowski). Right there is proof of it’s coolness. There are vintage clothes shops and vinyl records stores ( it pisses me off that I gave away my old vinyl records back in the 80’s and now my kid is buying them at $25 a pop- but that’s a complaint for another day).
But my main reason for choosing the Village. Food.
Being the (cough, cough) dedicated author that I am, I needed to go to the location I chose, several times, to get a feel for it, walk in my heroine’s shoes. Okay, that’s a bunch of bull. I’ve been to the Village enough to write about without actually going there again. I worked in Manhattan for years.
I was in it for the food. Bakeries, bars, cheese shops, tea shops, tapas bars, Mexican, Indian, Thai, Italian, Japanese…you name it, you’ll find it.
The truth is I’m not that deep. I don’t need to understand the Village, feel the vibe, experience it first hand in order to write about it. I just wanted to eat. Simple.
But I did manage to take a couple of pictures of the neighborhood where my leading lady lives and like her creator…eats. I have sacrificed my waistline “for my art”…that sounds deep enough, doesn’t it?
My daughter’s 8th grade class went to D.C. and NYC this past April. We spent 3 days in NYC and had a personal tour of The Village by a local who was a of a friend of a friend of the guide. He lived on the same street that apparently Madonna owns a house or whatever you call those houses connected together with a sidewalk for a front yard’. The street looked much like your second picture here. We got to walk around and this local took us to some shop that was famous for their cannolis (Que the Godfather “Don’t forget the cannolis.”) The Village was very interesting and not unlike The French Quarter in NOLA.
New York is a fantastic city…so alive. I absolutely love it. Still haven’t made it to NOLA…but it’s on my list.