RHYS BOWEN: Another visit from an old friend today. Ann is a Bay Area resident and I have enjoyed her Silver Rush mysteries since the first one was published. I have been impressed by her meticulous research in Colorado. If you want to read a historical mystery that is pure and true history (as well as a rattling good story) then these books are for you.
Ann Parker here, with a thank
you to Rhys Bowen and the Jungle Red Writers contingent for allowing me to step
in for a day to talk about one of my favorite subjects… research!
When I spin my Silver Rush historical
mysteries, I like to be surrounded by images and objects that capture time,
place, and people. Luckily, since my era is mid- to late(ish)-nineteenth
century, I can access a lot of material online, including the digital imagery
from the Lake County Public Library, in Leadville, Colorado (start here http://www.lakecountypubliclibrary.org/
and click on the “Local History” tab at the top), the Denver Public Library
photo collection (https://history.denverlibrary.org/photos), the Library of
Congress (http://www.loc.gov/pictures/),
and so on and so forth.
However, nothing digital beats the “real thing,” in my view.
And nothing beats the serendipitous find that sends a little shiver up the spine when spotted.
I had several such happy
circumstances during the drafting of the just released fifth in my series, What Gold
Buys.Mercury’s Rise) to be part of the new story. But there they
were, stepping off the train in Gold, ready to burn through their
monthly remittance allowances in Leadville. (For those who are wondering who,
exactly, a remittance man is, Wikipedia has a nice little definition here:
“In 19th century British usage, a remittance man is an emigrant, often
to a British colony, supported or assisted by payment of money from his
paternal home. …
Such a person may be seeking business fortune, education, extended vacation, a new place for the family to move, employment, or safety from personal, family, or legal troubles.)
Indeed, serendipity (or the sneaky workings of the unconscious)
played a significant part when it came to forming the story and assembling the
cast of characters. I truly hadn’t expected the “Lads from London” (a motley
crew of British remittance men who first crashed the party in the fourth Silver
Rush book, I already had a good handle on
Terrance Epperley, who played a fairly major role in Mercury. In fact,
“way back when” during the research/writing phase of Mercury, I found a
photo of a gentleman that was close to how I pictured Epperley and his
facespanner mustache right here on a blog titled “Mustaches of the Nineteenth Century”
(although I envision Epperley with a more narrow face and white-blond hair).
But who were the other fellows? Now, I had to conjure up more than vague
half-formed visages, since they insisted on wandering in and out of Gold
and generally making a nuisance of themselves.
This is where lovely serendipity walked in.
Such a person may be seeking business fortune, education, extended vacation, a new place for the family to move, employment, or safety from personal, family, or legal troubles.)
This is where lovely serendipity walked in.
I was at a tiny, local antique store (which, in addition to selling this and that and the other, just happens to sell See’s Candies, to which I have an unapologetic addiction), when I saw… THE LADS! They were properly displayed in a lovely carte de viste, resting atop a finely brushed top hat in a display case. After scooping up my weekly allowance of See’s (heavy on their “Awesome Peanut Brittle Bar” which is very very awesome), I asked if the photograph was for sale. The salesperson was a little nonplussed… apparently the photo was supposed to “sell” the top hat, not vice versa. However, he checked around and finally said, yes, I could buy it.
So I did.
Oh, I also bought a 1940s vintage typewriter, apropos of nothing other than I had recently been paid, was feeling “flush,” and thus in a mood to throw my money around.
A bit like The Lads when their
remittances came in, I suppose!
But that’s not the only way I burn through my research “mad money.” Online venues such as Etsy and eBay prove dangerous to my fiscal health… especially if I am searching for an image (just an image, mind you) of some object, just to get a handle on it so I can describe it more effectively. And if I’m zooming around on these come-hither-and-buy sites late at night, when my will power is weak, well, the results are as can be expected.
For instance, I was looking around on the Internet one night for images of a piquet card deck, circa 1870s. Piquet, which may have come to France by way of Spain, is one of the oldest card games around that is still played. More to my fictional purposes, it is (and was) also used for fortune telling. And what to my wandering eyes doth appear but a c1875 piquet deck on Etsy. At a reasonable price! A quick back ‘n forth with the seller, the deal was sealed, and I am now the proud owner of a piquet deck. (Note: I am playing with a “full deck” here… A piquet deck is composed of 32 cards, including face cards, 7s through 10s, and aces.)
There is something magical about
holding these cards in hand. I wonder about the people who handled this deck
more than a century ago, when the faces of the cards were new and unmarked—Who
were these folks? Where did they live? What were their lives like? It’s all a
mystery, and my imagination begins to wander… spinning tales….
And that is half the fun (and
reward) of serendipitous research.
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RHYS: I know exactly how Ann feels about research and when you stumble upon that perfect object. I was walking along the Portobello Road in London one day when I heard a dealer say, "The bracelet is from 1930". A woman was holding it. I willed her to put it down then snatched it up myself. Georgie's bracelet!
And Ann asked me to tell you that she'll give away a signed copy to one of today's commenters.
