LUCY BURDETTE: I'm writing this on Tuesday afternoon, so do not come here for the latest breaking news and opinion, okay?
Well, okay, you can come for opinion. Today's guest, Brad Parks, is hilarious. If you are ever at an author dinner event, and worried about being, ahem, bored? Sit by Brad. He is incredibly entertaining. And, I might add: Talented. His brand new book got a star from Publishers Weekly. And that, darling readers, is difficult to obtain.
The gloriously starred thrilled is THE BOUNDARIES WE CROSS. The title implies instant conflict, right? And, we instantly know, as we open the book, that someone is crossing some line. Or...are they?
WHAT HAPPENED ON WEEK ZERO
by Brad Parks
It’s happened to you.
I bet it’s even happened to Hank. And we all know Hank is perfect.
Still, there it is: someone accuses us of something we know we haven’t done. But we can’t prove it.
Sometimes it’s relatively benign. Did you eat the last cookie? Did you leave those dishes on the table? Did you forget to put the toilet seat down?
(Okay, maybe that last one only applies to, ahem, a few select guest authors here at Jungle Red.)
But other times . . .
Did you steal? Did you cheat? Did you lie?
A false accusation is at the core of my new thriller, THE BOUNDARIES WE CROSS ,which features Charles Bliss, a young English teacher at a well-to-do Connecticut boarding school who is fired for having an inappropriate relationship with a student.
He swears he didn’t do it . . .
But when the student disappears under suspicious circumstances, Charles is the obvious—and only—suspect.
That’s the fictional setup. Though for me, and I’m sure for many of you, there’s an element of this book that’s very much nonfiction.
Do you remember the first week of the pandemic? I always refer to it as Week 0, because none of us even knew what had started. On Monday of that week, when all of us were still stumbling around blissfully maskless—and “the coronavirus” was a thing only people on Italian cruise ships were worried about—someone I loved accused me of having done something pretty terrible.
I knew I hadn’t done it.
But I also couldn’t prove it.
And so, as that horrible Week 0 progressed and our lives became incredibly small overnight (lockdown? what’s that??), I was dealing with a different drama. What I was accused of may never have happened. But the impact it was having on an important relationship in my life was quite real.
Thankfully, it resolved itself fairly quickly. By the next Monday, the person realized they had been mistaken. All was forgiven. (Julia would never have Clare let Russ off the hook so fast.)
But for me a seed was planted. I realized the false accusation—and that awful, sinking feeling of being unable to establish your innocence—would make a delicious setup for a novel. And I subjected poor Charles to 405 pages of sheer hell as a result.
What about the rest of you? What’s the worst thing you’ve ever been falsely accused of doing? (I’m talking even worse than the toilet seat thing . . . which, for the record: It wasn’t me!)
Do you remember that awful feeling? Did you get it sorted out? Or is it still lingering?
LUCY: Great question! We are eager to hear what you have to say, Reddies!
And: One random commenter wins a free signed copy of THE BOUNDARIES WE CROSS. For more on Brad, visit his website .
