Take vintage Valentines for example.
My current work in progress pivots around Valentine’s Day in
the 1920-1930s. Most of the knowledge I
get when I interview for a historical piece is second-hand accounts or,
often-times, hearsay. I value every interpretation of history that I can get,
but to get into my characters’ heads, I have to really understand—more!
So what’s a writer to do?
First, I research online. I remember scrolling through reels
of micro-finch during my undergrad, but lucky, many pieces of history can now be
found online. (Local colleges and universities still hold the “key” when it
comes to their archives! Recordings done via the WPA or other grant-funded
opportunities are incredible treasures!)
Another online resource I use is ebay. I don’t limit myself to the US either.
Adding a “.co.uk” after “ebay” of the web address often opens up the search in
amazing ways.
I’ve also used the National
Archives time and again. They have photographs and sound recordings as well
as documents that help to set the scene or tone of your story.
Research in general isn’t a new concept. Most writers I know
are avid fact-finders.
But when my research leaves me with bigger questions and
that unsatisfied feeling, I take to the streets. I go on what Julia Cameron,
writer of The
Artists’ Way, would call an Artist’s Date.
I don’t set my sights high and narrow my vision. I go out, hoping that what
I need at the moment to get me through a stumbling block in my writing or to
help a character “play” in their environment, finds its way to me.
It may be to a park, a museum, a walk through the woods, or
even shopping. Getting out, away from the “search” has proved to be my way
through when I’ve become neurotic over the little things.
That’s what happened with the Valentines. I wasn’t really
looking for them, but they found me.
Vintage valentines are all over the internet. (I have many
of them “pinned” on a board on my Pinterest page.) Some of the Victorian era
cards pop open. My mother has many of these matted and displayed in her house.
But I needed something else.
About a month ago, when I was on one of my “writer’s
retreats”, I decided to wander through a local antique store that I had always
brushed aside. In the past, I had found this particular store had too much ‘70s
and not enough of what I really considered “antique”.
But the cards found me.
The curator of this particular booth had bundled Zip-lock
baggies of cards, prints, postcards and coloring books together in a random
collection and stuck them all in a wicker basket under a bench on the floor.
Thank goodness I have a habit of looking on the ground for pennies! The first
bag I grabbed held the gold mine I needed.
What is it about these cards that make them different than
the ones I found online? I’m not completely sure, but I’d bet it has a lot to
do with the physical connection. They smell, they have a texture, there is a
fading message and signature that almost has a life of its own.
They aren’t exactly the cards I pictured when I wrote the
Valentine’s Day scene, but they are the cards that took me there to write it.
