How My Real Life Informs My Art
Every story needs a setting, a world in which something happens. For my cozy mysteries, I didn’t set out to create a new world for my coterie of characters, I just appropriated details of the life I am living as a farmette dweller.
Daily chores on our Henny Penny Farmette provide plenty of fodder for my fictional stories. Our daily activities include chicken care, garden and orchard work, beekeeping, cooking and preservation of vegetables and fruits, renovating the antiquated farm house, fixing sheds, and building fences and retaining walls.
Stories need a sense of verisimilitude for readers to suspend disbelief and join the fictional journey. Drawing upon my real-life experiences, I can easily integrate my adventures in my books. And not only my activities, but also experiences of my architect husband who is ever-occupied with making our old house more liveable.
The tax assessor told me that our dwelling might have been a mining shack in the late 1940s (we live near Mt. Diablo and Lime Ridge where mining and rock quarrying were once important industries). We’ve also been told that our little house might have later served as a farm home (we live less than two miles from designated agricultural farmland). The structure desperately needed updating when we found it almost five years ago. But as settings go, the house and farmette work great.
We have since used recycled and reclaimed materials, sale items at big box DIY stores, and gifts (like lumber, stone, and windows/doors) from friends who do demolition on estates. We’ve visited companies that sell granite and asked for permission to take broken stone from their dumpsters. Thus, we’ve created a lovely bathroom floor with found materials that we’ve cut and sanded.
Of course, the exact details of our daily activities may not make their way into my stories, but versions of them sometimes do. At the very least, such activities inform my storytelling. I daresay the chickens and bees serve important roles in my mysteries. And each new day brings new adventures, from foxes showing up to skunks and raccoons raiding our fruit and nut trees.
Lately, a new chicken showed up on our property (a heritage chicken that had the ability to fly over my neighbor’s fence). She’s been staying here ever since. Wild turkeys often take a path through the property and once or twice a gorgeous stallion named Romeo and its owner ride by and say hello. Such events can add textural details to the setting of a story.
Let There Be Light–In the Kitchen, At Least
A new project seems to beckon at every turn here on the Henny Penny Farmette. But as we anticipated having our first celebratory meal at Thanksgiving in our farmette kitchen, we decided to make working on the interior of the house a priority. Well, not the whole house. Technically, I mean the kitchen/dining room/living room space. Although it’s the size of a postage stamp, the space affords easy flow.
At roughly 600 square feet, the farmette kitchen/dining room/living room space at times has felt tight, cluttered, and dark. But after we moved out some boxes (yes, still unpacked from two years ago) into a storage shed and thoroughly cleaned the area, the room seemed more expansive. A few days before Thanksgiving, Carlos and I addressed the lighting problems.
We needed light over the long granite counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area. We also had a very dark area at the end of the counter, space that sort of recessed back into an area that we use as extra kitchen storage and wet bar.
Our so-called “art” wall, tiled in stone (the wall is shaped in a half circle), that could use soft illumination. Finally, the living room had no lighting (although at one point, a single naked bulb hung from the ceiling). If we actually wanted to see our guests, that area needed attention.
We picked three areas (foregoing the living room for now, although we do have a plan for it). Four yellow glass pendant lights went in over the counter. Two yellow blown glass pendants were hung near the art wall. A crystal chandelier that hearkened back to the elegant ballrooms of the 20s and 30s was hung above the dining table. With the lighting finished and much to be thankful for, we sat down and enjoyed our Thanksgiving dinner. That was when I noticed the floor…still no flooring. Argh! Like I said, a new project at every turn.