I got stuck this weekend on a mystery short story that I’m writing for a contest that has an 11/1 entry deadline. I knew the basic structure of the story, but the location gave me some trouble. I needed the story to take place in Scottsdale, but I had to represent two different sides of Scottsdale – the glittery, “rich” side that the city is well-known for, and the not-so-nice areas that people don’t often talk about. My problem? I don’t frequent the area so I didn’t have a good picture of it in my mind. I did online research, but couldn’t put the pieces together in my head. I wrote around it, but felt like my story was vague. I needed a few relevant details to make it authentic.
I gave it up on Friday night (Saturday morning, I guess) around 1:00 AM and went to bed. My husband made a usual comment about me writing “till all hours of the night,” to which I gave him my normal, grumpy, “when else do I have time to write?” I mentioned my location problem and warned him that I’d need to pick his brain the next day.
Saturday morning, I woke up at 6:30 AM to my children fighting. Well, okay, I slept through the fighting. I woke up when the younger one burst into our room to tattle on the older one. Then my older son pushed the younger one out of the way to defend himself and tattle on the younger one, in a much louder voice to be sure he was heard. Then the younger one had to yell louder, etc. (Note to self: wear headphones and lock door before going to bed.)
My husband got them out of the room while I pretended to be asleep. But really, who could sleep through that? He ushered them out of the room and locked the door (a little late) and crawled back in bed.
Neither one of us could sleep, so we started talking about our day. He asked about my location problem (he doesn’t listen to me during the day, so I was duly impressed that he remembered this when he was half-asleep.) I explained my lack of vision of the area and he suggested a drive to south Scottsdale with a tour of some iffy areas, as well as a drive up Scottsdale road to the Hyatt Regency at Gainey Ranch (where some of my story occurs.)
On Sunday, after church, we made an afternoon of it. I got pictures and notes of our drive, the boys got to try a sandwich shop we’ve talked about going to for months now, and I took home the wonderful feeling that even though my hubby doesn’t understand my “writing thing” and sometimes doesn’t make it easy for me, he does support it in his own little way.
How do your friends/family support (or not support) your writing adventure. I’d love to hear your stories!