Research. Research. Research.
Now, I’m not sa
ying my research process is any more daunting than any author who sits in front of the computer and creates stories. Nope (OK. Historical fiction. Sometimes it might be:). But when I dig into the past, frequently, I dive in too deep. Next thing I know I am tumbling head over heels into the rabbit hole. Today was no different.
I’m researching cars from the 1950s and 1960s for my second Jazz Age novel (and yes, I know the Jazz Age was in the 1920s, but time slips in my story:). Anyway, the vehicle my main character drives is a big deal (or it better be since I spent half the day researching old cars). But while looking up these cars, my memory jarred loose a fact I’d forgotten about my late mom. She owned a 1960-something Mustang when I was a kid. I don’t recall riding in it — it was her special car. But I remember the color — a shiny green.
I also found a photo of my grandmother in front of her favorite car. I think it was taken in the late 1920s or early 1930s. So, cars are a thing in my family:). I think I’ll snap a selfie in front of my car tomorrow.
1950-1959 Buick New York City/Brooklyn
Benalmadena, Spain – June 21, 2015: Inside view of classic Ford Mustang, in Benalmadena (Spain), on June 21, 2015.