Authors are frequently asked where they get their ideas. People often look for a singular moment of divine inspiration—a sudden bolt of lightning or a dream that provides a fully formed plot. For me, it isn’t quite like that. It’s far slower and subtler than that, and it’s infinitely more satisfying. Once I decide to focus on a specific theme, the world starts providing the signals I need to bring it to life.
Tuning into the Bard
When I began planning my recent book, The Taming of the Stew, I knew I wanted to set the mystery against the backdrop of a vibrant Shakespeare Festival. To get into the right frame of mind, I immersed myself in the world of William Shakespeare. I revisited his plays, studied the linguistic quirks of the Elizabethan era, and looked into the folklore that surrounded his work.
Because my mind was tuned to that specific frequency, fascinating details began crossing my path at every turn. I wasn’t searching for them in a dusty library; rather, they stood out in my daily life because I was looking through a Shakespearean lens. A snippet of a podcast, a historical plaque in a nearby village, or even a line of poetry in a newspaper—suddenly, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be solved.
A Nod to the Dream
I knew early on that I wanted to include a personal nod to my own history with the theatre. A couple of years ago, I was in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and that play’s obsession with magical plants and transformations has always stayed with me. I wanted my protagonist to encounter a flower that carried that same sense of wonder.
However, as you know, I don’t write paranormal or fantasy fiction. The Parchment Paper Mysteries are firmly rooted in the real world. I couldn’t have a plant that was actually magic, but I needed something botanical that carried an ethereal, almost supernatural aura. I just trusted that the right inspiration would find me—and it did!
The Botanical Discovery
While I was writing in the spring, I came across a specific flower that bloomed perfectly in time for the story’s setting. It was also the ideal match for my story, connecting a line from Shakespeare to the heart of my modern murder mystery without ever breaking the laws of nature.
I won’t spoil the surprise here, but discovering it felt like finding a crucial clue at a crime scene. It served as a lovely reminder that the coziness of my genre often comes from these small, beautiful details that ground a story in reality while still feeling a bit like magic. Writing these books is all about keeping your “detective’s eye” open to the world around you; more often than not, the world is happy to provide the perfect solution to your narrative problems.