Is it any surprise, then, that my latest novel (the manuscript is finally complete in draft form) takes place in a fictional little town high in the Rocky Mountains?
A curious trait of mine is that I remember the essence of past experiences more than the specific recall of details. This is where photos and books are the perfect resource; they provide the visual and I can then sense the location and imagine events. Indeed, one of the books I inherited from my dad is A Portrait of Colorado, published in 1976; it provides a delightful blend of photos, paintings, and essays. For instance, see that old mining shaft on the cover of that book? I swear I've been there because it evokes a sense of the mystery and history that was a part of my time in the Rockies.