Location, Location, Location

Can you name what the following novels have in common?

  • The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah
  • The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
  • To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
  • Of Mice and Men & Cannery Row by John Steinbeck
  • The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
  • The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

If you said they all have a rich setting, you got the right answer. Of course, you might have come up with something different, which I didn’t consider. If so, educate me by leaving a comment below.

I’m just starting a new series set in middle Tennessee. I’m excited (and a little nervous) about the challenge of making this beautiful place come alive for my readers. The setting for my first series (Apple Hill) didn’t have anything particularly unique about it. The three novels and two novellas in the series all take place in Placerville, California. FYI—the last book in the series and two novellas have not yet been released. Placerville is rich in gold rush history, and special to my heart because of my personal connection to it (through my grandparents), but other than that, it doesn’t seem unique. Maybe that’s because I was born and raised in northern California, and I was too familiar with it.

But now I’m in the south—middle Tennessee to be more specific—about an hour from Nashville. We’ve lived here for just under two years, and everything still holds a child-like wonder for me. The summer storms that light up the sky and shake the rafters of the house. Fireflies that put on a full-blown display every evening in the summer. Trees that play a symphony when the wind blows through them (cottonwood) or display blossoms the size of my head (magnolia).

And then there are the birds.

If you’ve followed this blog, you know that I’ve become a bird nerd. The cardinals are a spectacular display of red and orange, and although the mockingbirds are nothing special to look at, they have my heart with their sweet songs. Unlike other birds (other than owls), mockingbirds are the only feathered friends that can be heard in the wee hours of the morning—or late into the night.

I laid awake the other night unable to quiet my brain. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve had to start a new novel from scratch. Novellas, yes. Novels, no. With a new three-book contract signed, the pressure is on. I was running lines through my head, and not for the first time, heard the distinctive song of the mockingbird. I’m sure you know why its song is distinct, but just in case you’re unaware, let me tell you. They don’t have a song to call their own. Instead, they mimic other birds, so they go from one song to another. I’ve even heard tell of a mockingbird mimicking the sound of a phone ringing, causing great confusion in one household.

Anyway, it was 2:00 in the morning, and I laid there listening to what was most likely a male, unmated bird. It made me sad to think of him all alone, with no mrs. to call his own. And that’s when I realized God was giving me the title to my new book—Night Songs. You may be thinking, big deal, she has a title. But for me, this is a big deal. I find it harder to create a title than to write the actual book. For the first time in my writing career, the title precedes the manuscript. What a novel idea.

Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.

Comments 1

  1. Sounds like many ideas for books in these paragraphs….from the wind blowing, the rafters rattling, the birds, whether lonely or those with no particular identity….turn many of these into people and look at all you’ve got going there! You go girl!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *