LUCY BURDETTE: I’m deep in the thickets of writing Key West food critic #13, still untitled, and trying to chug forward and discover the plot strands among the brambles. I do, however, have the ending mostly written. For about half the books I’ve written, the ending has come to my mind well before I’ve actually gotten to that point in the story. I write it down quickly so I don’t lose it, and often have to tweak it a bit to fit the whole book. But I consider the appearance of an ending a great gift, as it gives me something to shoot for when I'm writing the middle.
In this case, I imagined Miss Gloria and the two Scottish sisters, Violet and Bettina, taking a tiki hut sunset cruise. The idea of those three floating away on one of these silly boats made me giggle as I wrote it. Of course we had to research this by taking a ride on a hut. Our neighbors visiting from Connecticut were happy to be part of the action. I love research like this, because I notice details for the story that I would never have imagined--such as the giant stingray that John saw leap out of the water, and the group of dolphins that curved in and out of the water around us. With St. Patrick's day coming up next week, I realized that setting the scene on that holiday would increase the tension. I'll give you just a snippet in order not to spoil the surprise when you read the book...
I waited on the dock in front of the Schooner Wharf bar, watching the bustling harbor as the various crafts that had taken tourists out for their Sunset cruises began to appear on the horizon. I was grateful that Danielle had suggested the tiki hut cruise for the ladies—they wouldn’t have blended in well on bigger boats with a younger audience, a lot of alcohol, and live, loud music. St. Patrick’s Day ratcheted up the energy of the party scene even higher than usual. Cups of green beer were being consumed by people dressed in green—green t-shirts, green beads, green tutus, green top hats and ball caps and wigs, and more.
All the excitement of the week, along with the fact that a killer was still on the loose, left me feeling a little anxious about being separated from my friends—I felt like a mom dropping her kid off to kindergarten, I imagined. Except that these were older ladies, wearing green tutus and headbands with leprechauns bouncing above them on metal springs.
The captain of this tiki boat, a well-tanned woman named Chris who looked to be in her late twenties, had assured me that she had a lot of experience. She had never lost a passenger. That last bit was said with a wide smile that had made the three ladies whoop with laughter and set their leprechauns dancing.
Even so, I’d made a big fuss about how the passengers were senior citizens—all of them—and I was worried about their safety. It didn’t help my confidence level that she’d dyed her blonde hair green for the day and wore a tutu herself. After noticing my anxiety, Chris had invited me to watch her safety demonstrations—life jackets for everyone were available, plus two easily accessible ring life preservers that would be thrown out if someone fell overboard. She’d captained this very boat for over seven years and never had a single complaint. Besides, the craft wasn’t designed to go over six knots an hour, and she was an expert at avoiding the wake of other boats.
I wished them a fun trip and reluctantly watched them board and launch. Hopefully they’d have a grand time and wouldn’t come back too tipsy.
