Strategic Friends

I have a post over on the Pink Heart Society blog today called What's in Your Well? which I hope you will check out.

It's about using one's life -- and one's friends' lives and experiences -- in books.

Another way of approaching this is to talk about "where do you get your ideas?" But that sounds as if the ideas just happen to writers, that we just sit there hopefully waiting for an idea to come along and whack us upside the head.

But in fact, I've always found the process much more active on my part than that.

The initial idea might appear with little more than passive awareness. But, believe me, books don't happen that way.

I find it way more common to have a small idea that starts a book, sometimes no more than a single line -- and nothing at all to support it. And generally nothing appears without my having to go look for it.

And where do I look?

In the well of my own (and my friends' and acquaintances') experiences. The emotional bits are usually mine. It doesn't take a lot of expertise to mine one's own emotions.

But it's a bit harder to have as many experiences as my characters need. I've never flown a plane, ridden a bronc, made a quilt, dyed someone's hair purple, directed a film, sailed to Greece, tried a legal case, built an 11 ton sand castle, been a time-traveling cowboy a princess, or a cross-eyed librarian.

No, wait. I have been the last.

But ordinarily I run out of my own experiences pretty quickly. So thank heavens for my kids, my friends and the wonderful people I've met while writing books.

These strategic people complement my experiences with different -- but useful -- experiences of their own.

As I mentioned on the Pink Heart piece, my friend Melody Crust is a spectacular fiber artist. What she does with cloth and color and bits of sparkly stuff must be seen to be believed. Go take a look -- enjoy yourself. I always do when I go to her website for inspiration, which is exactly what I did when I was writing about Ally Maruyama in Antonides' Forbidden Wife.

Peggy Nicholson and Antoinette Stockenberg have sailed me out of more situations than I have any right to expect. I have turned to them virtually every time I've sent a character to sea -- with the exception of Jack Neillands in Imagine, whose bout with seasickness I was perfectly able to write from my own experience, thank you very much.

Jack himself owes a lot to the man who was the hero on the covers of more than half a dozen of my books. My initial inspiration was the sight of him looking dark and brooding in long-sleeve dress shirt ad.

"That's him," I said. "I want him to be Owain O'Neill on the cover of Dream Chasers." Imagine my amazement when I got him.

It even provided me with the 'small' idea for a book: What if, as happened in real life, the man in question said, "She asked for me specifically? I'd like to meet that woman."

He did. I wrote Imagine, picking his brain to make Jack real. Twenty years later, I still pick his brain regularly. About life in the fast lane. Big city living. Deep sea fishing. Greek endearments. There's apparently no end to his expertise. Everyone needs a guy like that.

But he didn't know bull riding. Fortunately Brett Leffew did. He was such a great help on the 'going down the road' part of The Eight Second Wedding that I thought he'd be an even bigger one for the background of the hero who taught bull riding in The Cowboy and the Kid. I was right.

Others have stepped up and allowed me to pick their brains and mine their experiences as well. The Prof's cousin Barbara has guided all three of my lawyer protagonists through legal shoals and has kept them from being disbarred in the process -- though she tells me that with Christo it was a near thing!

A stuntman friend-of-a-friend designed a movie stunt for me. An orthopedic surgeon talked me through an operation, an athletic trainer rehabbed my baseball pitcher's injured arm. Another spent a long time talking to me about my soccer goalie's spinal stenosis. A fireman briefed me on oil rig fires. And the late great Tony Hillerman actually took the time -- twice -- to discuss Navajo culture and heritage with me.

The little ideas keep coming. And the well keeps refilling every time I need it to. I dip into it and find the bits I need -- and the means to meet the people who can teach me what I need to know.

Writing is a wonderful thing -- and not nearly as solitary as it sometimes seems. It has enriched my life immeasurably.

So thank you to all those who have helped me with your experiences, your advice, your input, your stories to help make mine come to life.

Tell me what the best bits you've used from your own well of experience and you'll be entered in the drawing for a copy of Antonides' Forbidden Wife -- to celebrate Melody's inspirational talent.

Speaking of rhubarb

If we weren't, we soon will be. It's that time of year again.

Last night as I was going to bed I thought, it's nearly time for our local farmers' market to start up again. And immediately following that I thought, Rhubarb!

It turns out that farmers' market opens officially next Saturday. But the very thought got me to write 'rhubarb' in soap on the bathroom mirror (how else did I ever remember things pre-Google calendar?) and get The Prof to check the freezer for last year's rhubarb just in case.

And guess what!

He found a small bag of it, all nice and chopped and just looking like it needed to be in a cake. So today I got ready for this year's rhubarb by closing out last year's and making a cake.

Naturally I couldn't find my recipe (again), so I called my daughter and asked her for it. She said, "It's on your blog, Mom. That's where I get it."

Right. So it is.

I googled it and it came right up. What a good place to store my recipes. Now I'll be able to find them.

2007 must have been a bumper year for rhubarb.

I see I've put up a couple of other recipes using rhubarb as well --including my dear friend Elda's fabulous rhubarb delight. Every year recently that I made it, I took a piece to Elda who had moved to a nursing home.

This year I can't because Elda passed away in January, just days after her 92 birthday. But I'll make it again this year -- and every year -- in her memory and enjoy it while I remember the warmth of her friendship and the stories that came with it.

So we have cake tonight and I have a chapter of Demetrios tucked away in good shape, and another one coming along, and several more in the pipeline. The weather is good -- April showers are making lovely flowers hereabouts.

It's beginning to look a lot like spring.

ps: those little blue flowers are back, too -- a bit later than usual this year.

Pictures and words

Kate Walker posted a lovely blog about "a very fine dog indeed" on Monday -- a tribute to Gunnar that I appreciate more than words can say.

Everyone has been so kind in their support and their comments that I just want to say thank you all for your care and your concern for me and my family and for all the nice things you said about Gunnar (who would say that he certainly deserved them!).

I indulged myself today briefly by playing with Wordle, making word pictures of my blog about him, trying to find one that spoke to me. They all do, really. But I guess I like this one best:

Micah is mastering the art of keeping my feet warm, so I suspect he will be an important part of the revision process. And Mitch is putting his head on my knee as I write. They are both wonderful companions and doing their best to darn a patch of sorts over the hole Gunnar left.

Again, thank you all so much. It's true that you meet the greatest people writing books!

Friendship and Johnny Depp

What are friends for?

Well, to take you to the airport, for one thing.

So that's what I did today, took my friend Nancy to the airport. This is Nancy-the-cat-slayer from the Ireland trip that we are talking about.

If you don't remember Nancy, herewith the incriminating photo of her with Archie the cat from Flynn's castle (aka Ballyvolane House) and the very nasty looking instrument that could have spelled Archie's demise -- if Nancy were the bloodthirsty type.

She's not.

She's a good friend. One of the best. Has been for years. She has taken care of Gunnar the Proust-reading dog and his mates, Micah and Mitch, many times. She took care of earlier dogs and cats in the McAllister household. She's knitted baby blankets for McAllister grandchildren, fed lots of McAllisters lots of meals, and has always been here in times of stress and distress to do the right thing.


So naturally when she needed to go to the airport, I took her to the airport.

And didn't go see Johnny Depp.

Imagine that.

Johnny and -- more interesting to me, but apparently not to everyone else -- Christian Bale are currently making a film called Public Enemies.

It's the story of John Dillinger and Pretty Boy Floyd and Baby Face Nelson and the feds who are tracking them down.

And part of it is being filmed in a small town a little more than spitting distance (across the Mississippi) from where we live at this time of year.

There is a void in the Badger state now that Brett Favre has retired. Apparently Johnny is Wisconsin's attempt to fill his shoes.

Anyway, today Johnny is there.

Maybe Christian is, too.

The Hand-of-Depp was recently seen waving out a car window. Shrieks of joy were apparently heard.

I wouldn't know. I was at the airport.

Is he going to be there tomorrow? Is Christian? Was Christian there at all?

Maybe the local newspaper will shed light on this in subsequent editions. Unless I think to look online, I won't know because I don't get the local paper.

Tomorrow I might have to, just to find out what I missed while I was at the airport.