Ever since I can remember I have been an avid reader. I love fiction. Reading fiction inspires the imagination and a good writer completely immerses you in a new fascinating world you would not otherwise experience. As youngsters, my sisters and I read Nancy Drew Mysteries, and my love of the mystery-suspense genre was born. I can still pick up a thriller and be so engaged that I can’t put it down until after the very last word.
I always wondered if I would be able to write. Reading fiction was a part of my life. I thought writing it was a gift. Only later in life did I realize the gift was actually hard work and determination.
Throughout my schooling, I took every creative writing class I could find. Later in life, I decided to add Forensic Science and Criminology to my mix. I was, as I am sure many of you are, intrigued with the fact that minute traces of a criminal offender could be transferred to a crime scene and a careful, savy detective could follow those clues and bring a bad guy to justice.
My serious writing journey began when scouring my community college catalog I found a class taught by a free-lance editor. It was captivatingly titled “A Dark and Stormy Night,” and was going to be held at the Heceta Head Lighthouse on the Oregon coast. The lighthouse was rumored to be haunted, and without anything else to do over a long weekend, I couldn’t resist! How fun! I thought. I packed up my laptop, a sleeping bag, and ventured out into that dark and stormy night. We were asked to write a short story about a haunted lighthouse. We shared and critiqued each other. At the end of the weekend I was invited to join a critique group. It was there, in the company of other aspiring authors, that I learned the craft of writing…of painting pictures with words, and weaving the sensory elements with the needs, desires, motives, and struggles of human beings.
Many factors came together in James Street. I chose the setting after a girls shopping trip to Seattle. We wandered the street canyons, took a horse drawn carriage ride through historical Pioneer Square and ventured a crossing to Bainbridge Island on one of the Ferries. Loving a good mystery, I let my mind wander. The What If’s began to circle and characters emmerge. Once home, I cued up my laptop, turned on some music, poured myself a glass of wine and began to type. It took a full year to finish, but I enjoyed the process so much. There were times I couldn’t wait to get home from my day job and write!
If you’ve read James Street and have questions about it or thoughts, I would love to hear from you. Please post your comments below.
Thank you for your interest!
Sarah Vail
