When my family planned our annual summer vacation we were looking for loads of adventure mixed with heavy doses of water and woods. Our usual destination is Mackinac- a tiny island located between Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas that features horse-drawn carriages and superfluous amounts of fudge. We were waddling around the Island, fresh from our latest gorging when I had a thought- a fleeting one albeit because I didn’t think my family would like it. I wanted to end our trip with a side excursion to the little town that had inspired my novel- a place that was (metaphorically) on our way home. I was hoping the ‘real-life’ locations would translate into genuine enthusiasm for my story. And to be perfectly honest, my OCD alter-ego spoke up and said she wanted to check how accurate my memory was all my years downstate.
After some cajoling we set off for Roger’s City- AKA ‘Lantern Creek’ - a tiny hamlet snuggled halfway between Cheboygan and Alpena on Michigan’s ‘Sunrise Side.’ We ate lunch with an old friend and travelled into the middle of nowhere to drink a beer (me, not the kids) at the Blind Pig Tavern—my former place of employment and the inspiration for the ramshackle bar my heroine works in. I was mildly surprised to see it still standing, and saddened to learn that my old buddy Squirrel- the roughneck who had inspired me to write my novel in the first place- had died two years before (see Blog Post- ‘Advice from a Squirrel’).
From the Blind Pig we journeyed to Ocqueoc, (OC-KEE-OC) Falls and swam in the river that plays like a major character in my story. Nothing beat the sight of my children splashing around in the water that had lived so vibrantly in the pages of my book.
Yep… Mom was keeping it real. And after the initial complaints about ‘wanting to go home’ (nothing beats the inflection) the kids were actually starting to enjoy themselves.
Isn’t that what excites us as readers? When something can be linked by six degrees of separation to not only Kevin Bacon, but an actual location, we start salivating at the mouth like Pavlov’s pooch. The stakes have gone up. Our interest is piqued. There are websites we can peruse, places we can visit. T-shirts we can buy. People will be impressed.
What is it about the real- life counterparts to our creative musings that cause such an emotional flurry? Could it be that the seemingly superfluous addition of ‘truth’ offers readers a peek behind the proverbial curtain(see example above)? Could being close to the places that inspired our darlings bring us, by osmosis, closer to the heart of the’ real thing’?
Case in point- my twelve-year old daughter loves ‘Stranger Things.’ I can confidently swear on my grandmother’s grave that if Hawkins, Indiana existed she would sell her nine-year old sister to get there. After arrival, not only would she actively hunt for Noah Schnaap, she would savor every square millimeter of the place that has mesmerized her for two seasons (and counting… but who’s counting?). She might even steal a rock or two- store some dirt in a mason jar with the a sign instructing never to dispose upon threat of Tutankhamen’s curse. Is this Nirvana on earth? Or just an ordinary place that a writer chose for something extraordinary- the setting of story.
I know from personal experience that visiting the locations where my favorite novels take place is a huge thrill, allowing me, just for a moment, to connect to the story I loved in a way I never could sitting in my living room.
I only hope that when my children finally read my book they can stop, scratch their little chins and realize they were swimming in the river where a homicidal maniac chased my heroine to her (almost) demise. And I hope it gives them the rush of their lives because, let’s face it, nothing is ever 100% fictional.