The crooks got clean away, and the paintings have never been seen again. It’s tragic, and breathtaking, and even though massive rewards have been offered--five million dollars!-- police have not been able to track down the culprits, or the dozen masterpieces they took, including one Vermeer, three Rembrandts, and five Degas.
In the museum now, there are only empty spaces.
Worth as much as $500 million, the missing masterpieces have become one of the nation's most extraordinary unsolved mysteries--and the largest art heist in history.
Are the paintings in someone’s basement? Are they destroyed? Were they buried in someone’s backyard--and forgotten? Will they ever be found? If you ever want to start a conversation with someone from Boston, just bring up the Gardner heist, and then listen. Everyone has an opinion.
That in mind, the amazingly talented Jamie Mason, in her newest book, has come up with a solution, and you will love it! The Hidden Things is a terrific book, brilliantly written, as multi-layered as the title implies, with a unique and irresistible main character. (Talk about voice!) It is a true page turner. And her explanation of what happened in this perplexing crime is…kinda possible. Especially how one of the paintings came to light.
Today she has some inspiration for us, and it is a treat to read. And then she’ll be here to answer your questions. ( We can see if she has any inside information.)
And a copy of THE HIDDEN THINGS to one extremely supremely lucky commenter!
Why “Write What You Know” Is
One of the Best Things About Being a Writer
Some
of us lead lives that make the advice “write what you know” a given. The axiom earns
an of course-kind of shrug. A duh.
If
you’re a writer who is overburdened with expertise and find yourself
perpetually batting away a fog of intrigue so thick you can barely see your
next adventure bearing down on you, you might not understand that “write what
you know” can feel like a bit of an indictment for the rest of us.
On
that other hand, if what you know feels brown-paper normal on its very
sparkliest days, and mundane to outright dull on the rest of them, a heightened
fiction—the reading and the writing
of it—might be the whole damned point.
So,
write what you know?
You’d better believe it.
You’d better believe it.
And
it’s not only great advice, it’s great news, too. An utter privilege.
The
first thing you must know in this
endeavor is yourself. And it’s no small task. It requires attention we’re not
necessarily practiced at.
Like any job, working to get the right words around an idea or a plot has a thousand ways to frustrate. So you have to know what in the process brings you satisfaction—then lean into those things to sustain you over the speed bumps and the minutes, hours, days, weeks where your will and your want aren’t on speaking terms with your can-do.
Like any job, working to get the right words around an idea or a plot has a thousand ways to frustrate. So you have to know what in the process brings you satisfaction—then lean into those things to sustain you over the speed bumps and the minutes, hours, days, weeks where your will and your want aren’t on speaking terms with your can-do.
Do
you love inception, getting the spark of an idea that sends you running for
your notepad or the voice recorder on your phone? Do you love building the
iceberg of the backstory that will never reveal its true leviathan scale? Do
you love crafting a villain, mining the things that are awful in the world to
sculpt a worthy adversary for your heroes? Do you love outlining, the puzzle of
organizing all the what-ifs that have gotten loose in the labyrinth? Do you
love the music in the rhythm of the words? Is there a thrill in imagining what
the reader will want and feel? Do you love typing The End?
Whatever
it is, notice it. And know yourself in these things, to color those facets of
the work as you encounter them. Love it while you’re loving it. Mindfulness of what’s
a pleasure will show on the page. It will make the story richer. And it will
make your life bigger, a gift you never lose no matter what happens with the
story you’re working on.
The
second gift in “write what you know” is getting to know what you need to. Of
course, the internet is such an incredible boon to writers. Access to
information and easy consultation with people who practice in life what you
need to borrow for fiction is fish in a barrel. The shooting is easy. What an
incredible time to be curious.
But
what has ever been true is that people love to be the experts of their own perceptions.
The people around you, in person and online and at the other end of phone
connections, are the foremost authority of verisimilitude. And they’ll tell you
anything if you tell them you’re writing a book.
It’s
the on-ramp to cold calls and chitchat with strangers. In research, I’ve out of
the blue called zoos, police, grocery stores, churches, schools, laboratories, and
even a septic-and-irrigation company.
But
it’s the crossed-paths conversations that I’ve loved the most, yielding not
only colorful and useful information, but details and perspectives that I
wouldn’t have even thought to inquire after. They’ve made story mountains out
of throwaway small-talk molehills.
You
can ask specific questions, but sometimes just inviting people to tell you
what’s interesting in their experiences will draw fascinating things into the
light. I’ve polled social media for anecdotes about all kinds of things: about using
a motorcycle as a primary mode of transportation; about what it’s like to do
battle with a days-long migraine; about what it’s like to have to keep secrets
as a condition of employment; and about living with someone who has to keep
secrets.
I
ask hairdressers, DJs, doctors, bus drivers, waitstaff, teachers, anyone who
seems game to talk, to tell me about a customer, client, patient, coworker, or
boss who was terrible or wonderful.
A
reporter once told me that there are three questions guaranteed to ignite an
interesting conversation (and interesting conversation is cheek to jowl in
importance with cold, hard facts for arming writers with what they need): Do
you know the circumstances of your birth? Have you ever been close to death?
Have you ever been accused of something you didn’t do?
They’ll talk to us. We writers end up in that privileged club with bartenders, priests, therapists, and best friends. And it will yield snippets and gems that will then be yours, lucky you. These things will become knowledge, your knowledge, and thereby satisfy the Prime Directive: Go forth, ye writer, and write what you know.
They’ll talk to us. We writers end up in that privileged club with bartenders, priests, therapists, and best friends. And it will yield snippets and gems that will then be yours, lucky you. These things will become knowledge, your knowledge, and thereby satisfy the Prime Directive: Go forth, ye writer, and write what you know.
HANK:
So wise! But Jamie, who did you talk to about the Gardner theft? And what do you think really happened?
And how about you, reds and readers?
What’s your theory? Don’t forget—one lucky commenter will win THE HIDDEN THINGS!
Jamie Mason was born in Oklahoma City and grew up all over the Washington, DC area. She’s most often reading and writing, but in the life left over, she enjoys films, Formula 1 racing, football, traveling, and, conversely, staying at home. Jamie lives with her husband and two daughters in the mountains of western North Carolina. She is the author of Three Graves Full, Monday’s Lie, and The Hidden Things, all from Simon & Schuster's Gallery Books.












