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| TobyWan |
Anne Louise Bannon is a journalist and
former TV critic who has written several novels, including the Operation
Quickline series; the Freddie and Kathy series, set in the 1920s; and the Old
Los Angeles series, set in 1870. Learn more about her and her books at her
website. Today she’s joins us to discuss how she gets the ideas for her books.
How I Get My Ideas
I’m
sitting at my desk. Behind me, from outside, comes the persistent whine and
occasional wail of TobyWan, my basset hound/beagle mix. I’m waiting, in spite
of his plaintive cries because I know darned well that if I get up right away,
the dope will amble inside as if I have all the time in the world to serve his
needs. If I make him suffer endlessly, like a whole five minutes, he’ll hurry
right in.
I
suspect that a moment like this will end up in one of my stories at some point
– which is a long way of saying that ideas are everywhere. You never know when
one will hit. You can use anything.
This
is going to sound horrible, but when our last dog before TobyWan passed away,
it was a long night of waiting for it to happen. Sometime after, I was writing
a scene in which a young boy died slowly. It was a scene that needed a lot of pathos.
In addition, I really needed you to feel for the kid and his family so that
when the villain was finally revealed, there was an added punch to the
emotional breadbasket. And using old Clyde’s last night on the planet as the
basis for this scene really wasn’t as callous as it might sound. It helped me
work through my grief over losing our sweet dog.
A
weird dream jumpstarted the Operation Quickline series, a romance with
espionage intrusions. I dreamt that an old man wanted to move into my house. He
brought his suitcase inside, and I took it right out onto the porch. I’m still
not sure how that got everything else started, but the next thing I knew, I had
written several short novels.
A
dream about a tiger was the genesis of Tyger,
Tyger.
I
don’t remember if I had the dream first or if the cheesecake spilled first, but
both were involved in the launching of Fascinating Rhythm, my 1920s series. I
was making a cheesecake while listening to Ella Fitzgerald singing the George
and Ira Gershwin songbook, and as I was getting ready to put the cake in the
oven, I started dancing to Fascinatin’
Rhythm. Not a good move, but as I cleaned up the mess, I realized that it’s
a song about obsession. And there was that dream about a Model T underneath a
theater marquee. First Kathy, then Freddie started talking to me, and the novel
happened.
That
last bit is pretty key. I get tons of ideas. I’ve got an obnoxious neighbor
across the street who should be inspiring any number of plots. Somebody shows
up late, and I can come up with a bunch of different scenarios. But which are
the good ideas, the ones that will flower into full-fledged stories?
For
me, at any rate, if it’s a good idea, it will stick around. It may even keep
bugging me. That’s why I don’t write down ideas or keep much of an idea file.
If it’s going to go somewhere, I’ll probably remember it. Now some specific
details I may write down because those I will forget sometimes.
The
second thing that happens is that the characters start talking to me. That’s what
happened with Death of the Zanjero.
My husband was doing a lecture on the zanja system in Old Los Angeles, which is
how they irrigated farms in the days before Mr. Mullholland raped the Owens
Valley, and inadvertently gave me the best set-up for finding a body I’d heard
in a long time. But it didn’t really turn into a story until Maddie Wilcox
started talking to me and would not shut up.
In
fact, she kept talking and when my research turned up that L.A.’s first police
chief was killed by his own deputy in a dispute over a prostitute (I kid you
not), Maddie quite politely informed me that was her next adventure. So now I
have recently released Death of the City
Marshal, which is based on that incident.
Now,
if you will excuse me, TobyWan has suffered enough. I should probably get the
cats in, too, and with luck they won’t be dragging in anything disgusting. Such
as… Hmmmm….
Death of the City Marshal
It's October, 1870, and
once again, violence has errupted on the streets of Los Angeles. This time,
City Marshal gets into a gunfight with his deputy Joseph Dye, and is severely
wounded. Fortunately, winemaker and physician Maddie Wilcox is on the scene to
take care of the marshal. But the next day, she finds that the marshal has been
smothered in his bed.
The morning after the
marshal's death, red paint is splashed all over the front porch of his home,
and a list of his sins posted on the front.
The list of people with
grievances against the fiery-tempered marshal is long. But then another
prominent citizen has his sins posted and house front splattered.
Maddie takes an interest
in the vandalism in the hopes of finding Marshal Warren's killer. But she soon
finds out that she is up against a killer driven by a profound longing, and who
is prepared to do the worst to keep that most basic of human desires: a home.
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2 comments:
Thanks for having me, Lois!
Always a pleasure, Anne!
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