By Kate Flora
Back around the time of the dinosaurs, when I started publishing,
I thought that what a writer did was sit at her desk and make things up. Boy
was I wrong! Writing for an audience as discerning as the crime reading
community means that we have to work hard at getting things right. Get them
wrong and you’ll
hear about it. I soon learned to embrace research and the
adventures that sometimes accompany it.
It began with wanting to know more about police procedure in Portland, Maine, where I was setting my Detective Sergeant Joe Burgess series. I figured it would be helpful if I had a better sense of the city, and what patrol was like from an officer’s perspective, so I went on a ride along. Before I got in the car, the lieutenant who arranged it said, “Just stay quiet and don’t be annoying. They don’t want you there.” But somehow, as the hours passed, I would say, “What are you seeing that I’m not,” and get very helpful answers. I would learn that, while for us what we might notice or remember about a street might be where people lived or interesting houses or gardens we admired, for them, the streets were a map of crime.
“That’s the house where the dad hanged himself in the basement and the kids found him.”
“That’s the alley where we chased the guy who’d just killed his girlfriend.”
“You see that guy over there? We’ll be arresting him before the evening is done.”
All of the lore they shared gave me greater insight into my characters and the city they served. At the end of the first ride along, I went to the lab where they tried to shock me by showing horrible crime scene photos.
Back when I dreamed of being a writer, I certainly didn’t envision being sent out to hide in the woods so dogs being trained for search and rescue could find me. Taking that one step further, I never imagined that moment when, having asked my go-to person with the Miramichi, New Brunswick police if I could see where the victim’s body was found, he would back two four-wheelers out of a garage, hand me a helmet, and say, “Let’s go.”Then there are the classes. In order to write my tough female character, Thea Kozak, in that long-running series, I took a RAD self-defense class at my local police department. It’s hard to adequately describe walking across the gym knowing that any minute, the guy in the suit was going to attack me from behind. I’m a writer, so I save all of those feelings and lessons to use in my books.
Since my own department doesn’t offer one, I took a Citizens Police Academy in a neighboring town. So much great information and the instructors were amazing. For our last class, we got to be the cops and the cops were the bad guys. So when I rolled up in my pretend police car and tried to get the person I’d “stopped” to give me his information, humiliation began even before I got out of the car. I opened the car door, swung sideways, caught my holster on the door handle and banged my nose on the window. Then the cop playing the bad guy refused to give me his ID and said to the passenger, “Isn’t she cute?” So glad I didn’t have to be a real rookie..jpeg)
.jpeg)
.jpeg)