I wish I had a nickel for every time someone told
me to “write what you know.” I write crime thrillers and mysteries, but I don’t
really know them, per se. I was never a cop. So I use my
imagination, a little insight, and a bit of inspiration to invent stuff. That’s
what fiction is. But when I wrote the sixth chapter of my upcoming novel, I
needed a graveyard, a priest, and a church. Simple, right? Many churches have graveyards,
and all churches have priests of a sort. So I started with the church. I drew on what I
knew. I began to pull in memories of the church I went to as a child.
I grew up Catholic, and went to small church that
was little more than the basement of a Catholic school. It was perfect for the
book; small, poor, and exactly what I needed. But it didn't have a graveyard.
So I created one. I exercised a little Creative License and turned the plat of land they reserved for a new church into a graveyard. Growing up, we knew a proper church would be erected because every Sunday, they
held a second collection specifically for its construction. Something else I “knew.”
So I wrote the chapter with the church, second collection and all, with the priest and
with the graveyard. It all worked out fine.
Last week, I met my brother for a couple beers and
a bunch of oysters at a Biker Bar. The oysters were free for just a tip to the
guy wielding the oyster knife. It was a good deal. When Maggie and I left, I
decided to show her where I grew up. It wasn't far from where we were, and
neither was the church. So we drove there as well. Pulling in, I noticed a new
building that wasn't there when I was a kid; some sort of assembly hall. But it
wasn't a church. In the fifty years I’d been gone, the priests who mentored me
in the ways of Christ were long dead, the church was never built, and I was
disappointed to find that the land reserved for it now functioned as soccer
field.
Church / Soccer Field / Graveyard |
The graveyard.
Until I went there, I had no idea the land had been used for a soccer field instead of a church. And even though I feel a little cheated out of a birthright, I guess the kids like it better that way.
And let’s face it—I wouldn't be going to that church at this stage of my life anyway.
But after applying a little Creative License, I have to admit—if it can't be a church, then I think I like it better as a graveyard.
Best Regards,
DB
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