Coastal Wind, Marionberries, and Inspiration
My husband and I took the dogs to the Oregon Coast this past weekend, and we somehow forgot one of the coast’s most reliable personality traits:
It is windy.
Not charmingly breezy. Not “oh, my hair looks windswept and romantic.” More like, “hold onto your coffee, your jacket, and possibly your small pets and relatives” windy.
And honestly? It was perfect.
There is something about the Pacific Northwest coast that sharpens my imagination and makes me feel new things are possible. The ocean was restless, the skies were dramatic, and despite it being high summer, the mornings still began with that misty, moody quality that makes you think yes, someone could absolutely discover a secret here.
We watched the waves. We watched the clouds roll and shift. We had an overcast day, and some sunny days. My feet got sunburned. The dogs had a blast and are so tired now.
And somewhere between the salt air, the sideways wind, and piles of seafood, I am finally feeling better about Book 2. Special thanks are owed to Jim B, Mars Anderson, and Dr. Mike for your fantastic and thoughtful ARC reader feedback.
Book 2 finally feels ready to launch. Even better, the trip helped spark the outline for Book 3. So if you hear a faint clicking sound, that may just be the Agate Reach mysteries arranging themselves in my brain.
Also, and I need you to understand that this actually happened: we literally heard a tourist ask about marionberries. Not in a vague, general way. A real, earnest, Pacific-Northwest-tourist-in- the-wild marionberry inquiry.
I almost hit the shop floor; I could barely hide my delight.
Because if you are writing cozy mysteries set in the Pacific Northwest, and the universe hands you ocean weather, brooding skies, and a marionberry question on the same trip, you say thank you and keep your notebook close.
And the coast, as always, reminded us that inspiration does not always arrive quietly.
Sometimes it arrives sideways, in a 30-mile-an-hour gust, smelling faintly of salt and pie.