Truth is Stranger than Fiction by Writers Who Kill

Readers always want to know what inspires our crime fiction. Turns out there are lots of things that happen IRL (in real life) that would be perfect book fodder, but no one would believe them without a lot of deep massage. A few examples follow.

Molly MacRae: For me, the best and most irritating instances of “stranger than fiction” come from human interest stories and obituaries in the local paper. They’re the best because they’re delightful and preposterous and perfect. They’re irritating because I can’t use them. What am I talking about? The names. It’s the names! Sometimes they’re too delightful, preposterous, and perfect. They’re names so unlikely that I can’t possibly give them, exactly as they are, to my characters. If I do, readers will think I’m trying too hard to be entertaining or outré. It’s maddening. I can’t give you examples, either, because these are real people who are living (or did up until recently) in my area. Not that any of them will read this post, but it wouldn’t be right. But I keep a list of the names. One of my brothers sends me names, too. And sometimes I help myself to a first or last name for a character.

And now you can, too! Here’s a fun chart with some of the real first and last names from my lists. They’re mixed up to protect the innocent (and some of the new combinations are inadvertently delightful, preposterous, and perfect). If you’re brave enough, go ahead and pick and choose from among them to give your own characters a bit of panache.

 

Heather Weidner: My first publishing credit was a short story in a Sisters in Crime Anthology (the Virginia is for Mysteries series). I had a lady contact me and tell me she loved the story, and that her husband had the same name as one of the villains. She brought him to one of the book signings, so we could meet each other. This was the one and only time that I met someone who shared the same name as one of my characters.  

 My first cozy mystery series has an amateur sleuth named Jules Keene who lives at a campground in the Blue Ridge Mountains. She refurbishes vintage trailers for the “glamping” (glamorous camping) experience. She drives around the valley in her silver and black Jeep Wrangler with her sidekick Bijou, the Jack Russell Terrier.

 One day, I was sitting in evening traffic on the toll-road in Richmond, Virginia, and I looked up at the silver and black Wrangler in front of me. The personalized plates read, “Julz Jeep.” I wish I had taken a picture of it.

 Lisa Malice: I’m living a legal thriller with my family’s property which involves a crooked developer and his machinations to pave the main road to our lake cabins. The local town council is either corrupt, too, or being deceived by the township lawyer and these developers into violating assessment laws and open meeting laws. No murders so far. I’d use the situation in a book, but no one would believe the real-life insanity without a significant rewrite.

 Kait Carson: Coincidences happen. My route home from work included one of those ridiculous lights that allows three cars through on each green. Most folks knew the drill and waited. Except for this one man. He confidently zipped up the center turn lane of the road and cut into line completely without regard for what he had to do to get where he wanted to go. The standard accident waiting to happen. The road before the light has a low railed bridge over a canal. The day he cut me off, he almost drove me into the bridge rail. I stopped to let him in, and yes, honked my horn. He didn’t like that, so he backed up into me, then immediately got out of his car screaming that I had hit him from the rear. The next thing we heard was the sound of sirens. A State Trooper in an unmarked car had been stopped at the oncoming light and witnessed the entire event. The look on the driver’s face was priceless. I hope the ticket was expensive.

 I’d love to use the episode in a story, but coincidences like this don’t fly in fiction!

Readers, tell us about your truth is stranger than fiction experience.