Before and After

​I pride myself in developing the settings in my books as if they were secondary characters. Often, they are. The good guys and the bad guys sweat when the sun’s blazing with heat, whether they’re in the barren landscape of west Texas or the smothering humidity of North Carolina. The quietness of a mountain snow can be deafening. The smell of freshly cut hay is starkly different than the smells lingering near the dumpster behind a restaurant in Newark, New Jersey.
 
Like many authors, I too, get sidetracked when researching a setting I’m not familiar with. Our dear friend Google makes it way too easy to fall down that rabbit hole we call research. When I was writing Wink of an Eye (Minotaur, 2014), I spent way too many hours researching Wink, Texas. Yes—there really is a small town in west Texas named Wink. The Roy Orbison Museum is located right there on Main Street. It’s by appointment only, though.
 
I was on a mission to learn everything I could about Wink, Texas. We all know how Texans like to spend their Friday nights under the lights watching their high school football games and Wink is no different. It’s home of the Wildcats. The population of Wink holds steady at about a thousand except when the oil’s hitting then it explodes to sometimes three thousand. I learned this from the mayor’s wife. We became friends on Facebook when I joined the Wink, Texas Facebook group. Rather than googling everything and relying on Wikipedia, I used a more reliable source—the actual residents.
 
With one scene, I wanted the common name for a specific cactus. I sent my friend the mayor’s wife a few photos I’d found and asked her. I said I wanted to know the slang name, the name she’d use if she saw it on the side of the road. I anxiously waited for a really cool name like Flowering Betty, or Lady Redbud. I was a little disappointed when she came back and said, “we call it a cactus.”
 
I’ve never been to Wink, Texas. Although I have been invited to dinner at the mayor’s house. But I did enough research, even longtime residents were impressed. I was told by more than one that I had “nailed it.”
 
While I’ve never been to Wink, I have been to the mountains of Appalachia. I’ve stood in a coal camp in the Coal Miner’s Museum in West Virginia. I’ve stopped in Goober Peas store in Meat Camp, North Carolina. I’ve taken so many day trips to Boone, I no longer use GPS. I’ve hiked the Linville Falls trails several times. I’ve been to the top of Grandfather Mountain and caught snowflakes on my tongue then drove down to the parking lot where we’d stop, get out of the car, and take off out coats because it was sixty degrees at the foot of the mighty mountain. I’ve been deep into the hollers bordering North Carolina and Tennessee. I was even invited to a snake-handling church but it didn’t work out. Yes, those churches do exist but they’re so well hidden, sometimes in plain sight, their very existence is hush-hush.
 
My other books, The Ava Logan series, and What the Monkey Saw are set in the North Carolina mountains. Two different series, two different protagonists, two different career paths joined by a common thread. The people of Appalachia.
 
I’m not really sure why I’m so drawn to that region, but I am. I was born and raised, and still live in the Piedmont region of North Carolina, but man, those mountains speak to me.
 
Watching the devastation going on in Western North Carolina right now thanks to a hurricane of all things, is like taking a punch straight to the gut. Honestly, I’m too stunned to cry. I stare at the images of homes reduced to scattered, splintered wood. Roads I’ve traveled that are no longer there. Entire towns that are no longer there. And I wish it was a nightmare we would wake up from and everything would be back like it was. From now on the survivors will think of time as before “the storm” or after the storm. There’ll be no in between. No other way to reference time.  
 
And somewhere in the far corners of my mind, I’m thinking about these two series I have with more books to come. How do I write them now? Do I include the day the rain came and the rivers and creeks rose and the mud rolled and raged like flowing lava and the very land my mountain people stood upon washed out from under them? Do I dare write about such a catastrophic event?
 
The terrorist attack on 911 forced the entertainment industry to rethink using images of the twin towers. Those towers that used to be there, but now they’re not.
 
Can I act like nothing’s happened at all and continue writing the two different series set as they were? Or do I, too, write before and after?

Lynn Chandler Willis is a best-selling, multi-award-winning author who has worked in the corporate world, the television news industry, and had a thirteen-year run as the owner and publisher of a small-town newspaper. She lives in the heart of North Carolina on a mini-farm surrounded by chickens, turkeys, ducks, nine grandkids, a sassy little calico named Jingles, and Finn, a brown border collie known to be the best dog in the world. Seriously.