Locationality - It's more than just a plane flight
Like the word? I made it up. After all, isn't that what authors do? Make stuff up. Well, yes and no. You see, sometimes it's not quite that simple. Sometimes we are writing about locations we've never even visited. What a totally scary thought that was for me, when I started A Bar In Paris.
It felt ... odd. Kind of covert, checking out various sites where people had posted their images of the city... especially hotel rooms and bars!
But I had a story itching to be written. Oh and the fact that it was set in the most romantic city in the world. What's not to love about it? But it's a double edged sword. I needed to research the locations, carefully.
That is where the term locationality takes on its meaning.
For instance, when I wrote my first series (Warriors of the Elector), I had a lot of latitude. It was set so far into the future, that it didn't really matter what was already here... I only focussed on 3 Australian areas but they were so significantly different that I could do pretty much whatever I wanted.
Another series I'm writing (featuring a Celtic Cupid) is set in Melbourne, so I had to be careful . But what the heck! I'm an Aussie and I've been to Melbourne enough times to be able to write about it comfortably. I know the city well enough to paint the pictures.
But when I wrote A Bar In Paris... I'd lived in England and Australia, yet never actually set foot in Paris. I'd landed at the airport en-route for London, and that was it. So how could I tell this story effectively?
That is where the wonders of modern technology stepped in and saved my proverbial bacon!
Google Maps became my new best friend, together with other travel websites. I trawled for days looking for the right Penthouse suite exactly in the location that suited me! The next step was to make my way, using the photos on google maps and retrace every step so I could arrive in the locations that suited my story best.
Then one of my writing friends went into a bar in Paris (yes she actually was in Paris... so jealous DG!) and took a photo of the bar! For me. It was a squee moment.
The world of writing has got so much smaller thanks to the wonders of modern technology. We can write about locations we've never visited thanks to photo sharing sites, travel blogs and even you tube. We can visualise the subtle play of light over the aged stone. We can hear the sounds of the city and imagine ourselves there, collecting the information.
Sure, it's not quite the same as physically being there, but that is where our imaginations then take over.
Thanks for having me over today. It's been fun!
Imogene is the author of many books, including A Bar In Paris, Hesparia's Tears, among a host of other titles.
Wife, mother and nutty bookstore owner all describe Imogene Nix, but the real secret is Science Fiction, Paranormal Romance with a hefty dose of Romantic Suspense is what she adores.
She is dedicated to high quality romance, with a dollop of erotic interactions, and has dipped her toes into Science Fiction, Contemporary Romance and Paranormal Romance featuring feisty headstrong female leads and the odd Romantic Suspense.
She lives in Rural Queensland where she happily raises 2 daughters, lots of chickens a couple of cats and her super pup Teddy. When she isn’t writing or reading, she’s hanging out with her husband, acting like a techno-geek or cooking and making wine.
Links—where to find Imogene Nix:
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Ever considered a naughty weekend? A “Hook-Up” with no strings?
What does a woman do when she’s turning thirty? She takes a sexy weekend trip to Paris looking for commitment-free sex. Or, that’s what Davina Chalmers does, anyway.
Enter Johnathon a tall charming Englishman. How can she possibly resist his charm and that dimple?
But what starts out as a lark quickly becomes so much more. But how does one weekend become a lifetime? And how does a lie of omission bring everything into jeopardy?
The waiter smiled and I sighed. “Time to go.” As I started to rise, gripping my bag in my hand, the bell above the door rang and I watched with interest as the sexiest man I’d ever seen entered. The cool blonde on his arm was scowling and he pried his fingers from her arm then walked away. For a moment, she wobbled on her stilettos before she sneered in her super chic French way only they can pull off and stalked out the door. It slammed so hard the panes of glass shuddered.
The man scowled, but to be honest, it didn’t hurt at all. He was tall and well built. Blond hair with gray eyes.
My mind screamed that this man that could probably satisfy my needs. He didn’t appear even slightly inebriated and he was obviously single now, if that little carry-on was to go by. Perhaps this was my chance? I smoothed down my black dress, making sure my cleavage was just peeking out, then I sucked in a deep, deep breath and stood, hoping to catch his eyes.
I watched the man stalk to the bar and order in perfect English-accented French. “Une bière, s’il vous plait.”
My toes curled at his voice and the waiter hurried to do his bidding. Mr. Sexy’s voice was cultured and deep. I like voices, particularly men’s voices. They can make me go gooey at the knees, and this one warmed my insides to the consistency of thick, warm honey. And I knew he was the one I wanted to be with all night long.
The server handed over a bottle of beer and a glass, but Mr. Sexy looked at the bottle, grimaced, and then took a long pull.
The other men at the bar started talking in low voices, putting aside newspapers. They paid their money and left.
I didn’t want to think it was because of the dangerous aura surrounding the man. It was, after all, three in the morning. No, there had to be something else. But I was sure it wasn’t the time to ask these questions.
The small bar was quiet now as I was waiting alone with the mystery man. The waiter disappeared to the back. Obviously, with only two patrons left, he could do other things. I sucked in my confidence, folded it around me like a coat, and approached the man.
“Hi. Mind if I join you?”
He grinned and gestured to the seat beside him. I slipped onto the small stool, perched uncertainly. Then I wiggled my bum a little, thrust out my chest, and gave him my very best come-on smile.
“Looking for a hook up, are you?” His voice caused a curl of heat to gather deep inside me.
I nodded slowly. Better to be honest from the start, I thought. I didn’t have time to say a word. The next thing I knew, he had me thrust against the bar, his lips on mine and his tongue halfway down my throat. But man, what a tongue it was.
He played me like a violin until he lifted his head, casting a wicked smile in my direction. “Your hotel or mine?”
“Umm, yours.” Right now, I felt the rosy glow of arousal roaring through me. Sexy and quick to catch on. Yep, I was sure this guy was a winner.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
I shook my head. “No.”
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