The
publication of my second Quill Gordon mystery, Wash Her Guilt Away is only several weeks away, and during the lull
before the storm, I’m trying to think of answers to the questions I know I’ll
be asked about it.
Most of the
action is set in an establishment called Harry’s Riverside Lodge. As described
in the book, the eponymous Harry founded it after World War II, and for a
quarter century it was a destination point for fishermen, duck hunters, and
philandering politicians, not necessarily in that order. Note that this was
back in the days before iPhones, blogs and press scrutiny of the sex lives of
elected officials — a time so long gone that it now almost seems like Regency
England.
Based on my
experience with the first Gordon mystery, The McHenry Inheritance, one of the questions I know I’ll be asked is whether
or not Harry’s is based on any specific place or Harry on a specific person.
It’s Called Fiction for a Reason
Nearly
every work of fiction has a disclaimer on its copyright page saying that the
persons and places described therein are imaginary and that any resemblance to
real persons or places is entirely coincidental. There are excellent legal
reasons for making such a disclaimer, but it’s usually bunk.
Some works
of fiction are clearly based on recognizable current events, but in most cases
the draw on real life is more subtle. The late Harry (he’s dead by the time the
story begins) and his establishment aren’t based on any one person or place.
Rather, they are drawn from places I’ve been in a half century of fishing, from
places I’ve read about over the years, and from a lot of stuff I just plain
made up, drawing on my personal experience and reading.
For
example, the idea of a hunting/fishing lodge being a louche getaway destination
came from an article in the San Francisco
Chronicle, probably two decades ago, about the closing of a legendary joint
in far northern California. The story reported that on weekends in duck-hunting
season during the 50s and 60s, the bar was an un-navigable mosh pit, and
prostitutes were brought in from a larger city and established in the
second-floor rooms, where they did a thriving business.
A Little of This; a Little of That
From that
kernel of an idea, I moved the place a couple of hundred miles to the south,
added politicians from Sacramento, and took out the hookers, though the latter
decision probably demonstrates that I am unfit to write a best-seller.
The bar at
Harry’s with its large fireplace is drawn from any number of such places I’ve
been over the years, as is the scenic painting over the fireplace. The cabins
on the rolling lawn near the river are drawn from memories of places our family
stayed on vacations more than 50 years ago. In fact, they probably couldn’t be
built today because of mandated setbacks from waterways, but as I said, this is
fiction.
In the end
it’s on me, as the author, to make this imagined place called Harry’s seem real
to readers. I put a lot of time and thought into creating a description and
atmosphere for it, and I enjoyed every minute of the effort. I can only hope
that if you read my book, you, too, will enjoy your stay at Harry’s and the
people who were part of the story.
