I love information. It’s the only reason I would ever join an organized tour while on vacation.
My husband and I were married three months before he was scheduled to report for duty in the Air Force. Rather than doing something sensible like getting temporary jobs and saving money, we pooled every cent we had and headed for Europe. In the interest of full disclosure, my contribution to “everything we had” was two hundred dollars I’d received when my Irish grandfather died; my husband supplied the rest—literally every penny he’d ever earned, starting with his paper route when he was eleven. Yes, he’s a saver.
The reason I mention it is because we were on a strict budget. To make our money last for three months, we could spend only so much a day. That meant when we got to Pompeii, a dream-come-true for this ancient history lover, we couldn’t afford the tour. Instead we wandered around on our own, wondering what we were looking at. He still owes me a trip back to Pompeii—this time with a tour.
writer, my love of information is a blessing and a curse. Research is a joy for
me. In my current WIP, I got to research bee venom, Early Netherlandish
painting, Victorian lunatic asylums (yes, that’s what they were called then),
British holidays camps of the 1950s, and Steamship Moderne architecture, a form
of Art Deco (picture several of the “modern” houses in the Hercule Poirot
Unfortunately, I don’t always end up where I intended to go. I get distracted by information. Last week I was supposed to be researching the Gypsy fairs in rural England (another element in my WIP). But I soon found myself reading about San Francisco’s hidden cisterns, Queen Elizabeth the First’s real cause of death, and the Cave of the Swimmers in the desert region of southwest Egypt, so named because of the petroglyphs which appear to show people swimming. Cool!
I clearly need more discipline.
Does anyone else fall into the black hole of research? I’ll meet you there—we can share information.