On Location

Two days from now, my husband and I are flying to England. We'll be in the U.K. for about a month, visiting friends and family in the Midlands before travelling back down to London where poor me; I get to walk in the footsteps of my main character for the better part of a week.

She's a bit of a demanding sort is thirty-one-year-old Libby Maxwell, but then research does require sacrifice as well as repeat visits to Selfridges, Oxford Circus and the Victoria & Albert Museum. Which is where, during a conversation with one of V&A's foremost silver experts, Libby inadvertently reveals a key piece of information which will propel her, and my storyline, into the past. There is a man, of course, but more on him another day.

I did a lot of preliminary work when we were last in London. But, now that I'm well into my first draft, I go back with a particular focus – to check out the locations I've used so far, and the ones I'm considering but have yet to visit. So spending a few hours in Hyde Park soaking up the atmosphere, taking the odd stroll through Bayswater, Paddington and Marylebone, and cruising the Portobello Market on a Saturday morning isn't time wasted; it's all about making what I hope will be a good book, better.

Given that eighty percent of the novel is set in 1909, this research business is a bit trickier than it sounds. Like Libby, I too must try and navigate the life of a working woman in another time, where she lived, what clothes she wore, and what route she took to work each day. Lucky for me, this is London and, yes, the tour guides are right -- history can be found around every corner. I go prepared. The camera is packed alongside my walking shoes, a pocket recorder and a comprehensive to-do list so that when I return home I'll have what I need to evoke that all-important sense of place.

More than mere setting, richer than mere description, the location in which your characters live and breathe gives their story, and subsequently yours, the veracity it needs to draw the reader into the world which you've created. Make a mistake, however small, and readers will notice.

In her 1998 autobiography, Time to be in Earnest, P.D. James refers to a gaffe she made in A Taste for Death. She "sent" a traumatized woman, who had discovered a corpse in the vestry of a London church, off to Nottingham to recuperate. Unfortunately, she chose to have Miss Wharton travel from King's Cross instead of St. Pancras, a much more direct, and shorter, route. A very small oversight from my point-of-view (only two readers wrote to Miss James), but then I'm not a Londoner.

And that's another challenge I've tried to overcome by making Libby a Canadian; she's from Toronto, where I grew up and frequently visit, and I gave her a backstory that reflects my own – British grandparents, an interest in antiques and a fascination with the Edwardian era. It might be a lot easier these days to go online and search out all kinds of obscure information, but nothing quite does it like being "on location".

And if this sounds like a well-honed pitch for yet another trip to London, it is; my secret plan is to turn this novel into a trilogy. Two or three trips per book should just about cover it because you must sniff the air and make sure your daffodils bloom at the right time of the year, and that perfect shirtwaist blouse you want your main character to wear? You'd better get it right – or at least, get it on sale.

Ah, the ongoing travails of a working writer.

f & f Anne