Most of the characters in my books come from a story I’ve heard. Someone may mention something to me in passing, or I’ll read a tidbit of Savannah’s history, and the thought of that person lingers in my mind. So recently, when a reader asked, “Where did you come up with the idea of horse spirits in The Cottage on Mystic Lane?” I had an answer.
My husband and I have friends who live on Isle of Hope. One night, after a delicious dinner, we walked around their farm, which happens to have horses, of course. My curiosity always runs a step before the discussion at hand, so when a thought came to mind, I blurted it out: “What happens when a horse dies? They are enormous creatures. Do you bury them?”
Of course, any normal person might have been offended when the after-dinner conversation turned to death. But my close friends know I can’t control what’s going through my mind, and it will always spill out of my mouth quickly. Anyway, the husband answered with an intriguing fact. He said that the prior owners had problems when they were building because they kept finding horse carcasses. They were informed that the land had once belonged to an old veterinarian.
Yep. That’s all it took. I had my Isle of Hope character—the old veterinarian who had moved on to The Mystic and cared for the forgotten horses from the Civil War. He really is only mentioned in passing; in fact, I never even gave him a name. But yet, his character and the spirits of his horses run throughout the story.
I’ve since moved past my old friend, the vet, as new characters develop for my current novel. But I always remember them, like childhood friends that helped shape you into the person you are. I never know when or where my new fictional friends will enter my life, but there’s always one waiting for me, just a story away.
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