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The last time I did a book where I had to go out of town to a place I’d never been to research I had my friend Deborah Millitello with me. She braved New Mexico with me to help me give Edward his home. Brave? You question that it takes bravery to go on a research trip with me? Don’t be cute, you know what I write.
But, it was not my fault that she twisted her ankle, that was just a misstep. It happens. At least we’d walked around Albuquerque and Santa Fe and gotten most of what I wanted to see done. But the twisted ankle, and me getting elevation sickness for the first time ever, did keep us from going to the Anasazi ruins. I had this great idea about using the ruins for the climax of the book, but since Debbie and I were unable to travel to see them, I had to let it go as an idea. If I don’t see a place, I just have trouble writing it, so, maybe when we return to New Mexico, we’ll get to use the setting. Debbie, bravely, volunteered to go with me bad ankle and all, but the locals that had recommended the site said it was quite a hike even for the able-bodied. I told Debbie under no circumstances was she going to try it injured. I took it as a sign from the universe that I didn’t need to go this trip.
Besides, I also wasn’t leaving Debbie behind at the hotel room by herself. I’m very much a pack animal, you don’t leave a man, or woman, behind, and you don’t drag your friend off on a research trip, get her injured, then dump her at the hotel. Not cool.
This research trip for BLOOD NOIR I got to take Jon, husband and partner. It was very cool to be able to take Jon, and know that he was my extra set of eyes, ears, and sensory memory. I always like to take one other person with me, if possible, to make sure I’m remembering correctly when it’s somewhere I’ve never been before, and I’m about to put it in a book. Just cautious that way. Or is that paranoid? Hmm. Tomato, Tomaato, it’s still a vegetable. If you’re one of those people that think a tomato is a fruit then have your delusion, it’s so a veggie. I mean Veggie Tales wouldn’t lie to us, and Bob the Tomato is one of their main characters. Proof positive that tomatoes are veggies.
Anyway, my point was it was good to be able to take the person I live with, and am married to, as my research buddy. I think what makes Jon and I work so well together now is that we had eight years of friendship before it ever occurred to us to date. We knew each other in that friend way. You know what I mean. If you’re friends with a guy, and you have no plans to ever date him, you’re more yourself. Anyone can pretend while their dating that they’re more than they are, or less of something you don’t want. They can pretend to be perfect, but after eight years, it was too late to pretend. We both knew most of our foibles. We were friends. I’d never dated someone I’d been that good a friend with before, what kept it from being weird was that we started dating by accident. We were just going out to movies and concerts as friends, then one day we realized somewhere in all that friendship, it had turned into a date. Neither of us could actually pin-point the moment it changed. Weird, huh?
But because we weren’t dating, we weren’t pretending either. We were just us, and that worked just fine. It certainly cut through a lot of the crap that you usually go through when you’re dating. We knew each other too well to play games, or hide. It was years too late to pretend to be braver, or less neurotic, or less pushy. As Jon and I are fond of saying, “I knew that before I married you.” Knew what? Fill in the blank. We actually knew most of our stories before we married. You know the ones. The stories that everyone tells from childhood, high school, college, whatever. At six years of marriage, seven years as a couple, and eight years as friends on top of that, we can both say, tell that one, or come in part way through a conversation and know exactly what story it is. Repetition hasn’t dimmed the pleasure, though now instead of either of us wanting to find out what happens next, since we know, it’s the pleasure of our partners enjoyment of sharing the story with a fresh audience.
Jon and I both probably wouldn’t have dated each other on purpose. We’d been afraid of ruining the friendship. Silly us.
Oh, and Debbie’s first book is out. You can find it at Lulu, for a printed copy.[Jon here: There are a lot of electronic formats out there, so my best bet for that is to google “Deborah Millitello Thief’s Luck” and whatever your ebook format is. /Jon]