Summer of Discovery: Just Say Yes

Welcome to Ellen Byerrum, a former Washington, D.C., news reporter, and a playwright. Ellen also holds a Virginia private investigator's registration. Her Crime of Fashion mysteries star Lacey Smithsonian, a reluctant fashion reporter in Washington D.C., "The City Fashion Forgot."

The latest book in the series, Shot Through Velvet, takes Lacey on assignment to the last velvet factory in Virginia on its final day of operation. Her story takes a turn when a blue body is pulled out of the dye tank. A starred review in Publisher's Weekly said it provides a "serious look at the decline of the U.S. textile and newspaper industries and provides much food for thought."

If you like cozy mysteries with an edge and great characters, you'll love her series.

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Sometimes a simple "yes" will lead to a surprising discovery., taking you away from your comfortable little box and into another world. It's led me to stories and story ideas over and over again. All you have to do is be a little curious, say yes, and you're off.

One of my more vivid discoveries happened years ago at my first reporting job in a place I call Sagebrush. (Not its real name.) Walking down the sidewalk, a local real estate agent drove up to me, rolled down his window and yelled, "Hey, there's a massage parlor in town! You want to go see it?"

Now, this was a time when "massage parlor" did not mean a spa package with a pedicure and New Age music playing in the background. This massage parlor didn't cater to a female clientele. But the county had nothing in their rules that outlawed this new business, so it came to pass that a massage parlor crew from the red light district in Denver moved to Sagebrush to a house on a county road.

There was a padlock on the door so the real estate guy and I had to crawl through the window. Not sure what the deal with the lock was, but we all had to crawl up and over, and through the window: the girls, the clients, real estate guys, and me. Once inside, I interviewed the "manager" and the masseuses. They were happy for the publicity. I discovered that customers could order off a menu of services. The client could order one masseuse or two and determine what they wore or didn't wear. No pedicures, manicures, or facials. I left with a front-page story. And a job offer. They assured me I'd make a lot more money than working for the newspaper. I declined, preferring the poverty of a journalist, but we sold out of every copy of the paper that day.

They were later busted for prostitution, another story I was able to write.

A fellow reporter always complained that I got the good stories. But she stuck to her school board beat and high school sports and she tended not to say yes to random people on the street with story ideas.

There are always new discoveries every time I write a book. My latest book, Shot Through Velvet, developed after I toured the last velvet factory in Virginia. It opened up a whole new world to me. A world of exquisite fabric, dangerous equipment and desperate people out of work.

My next book took me back to Sagebrush.

Although I said I would never do it, I returned to Sagebrush to research Death on Heels, (to be published next February). I used that dusty Western city as the place where my sleuth, fashion reporter Lacey Smithsonian, earned her spurs as a reporter. It's not at all like Washington, D.C., where she usually hangs out.

There were no massage parlors this time. And in fact the town has changed and improved. There are no parks and pools and some greenery. But I was on the trail of an old cowboy line camp outside of Sagebrush. I was lucky enough to find one broken down log cabin, a line camp where cowboys would stay while working with the cattle. It was in the wilderness, framed by clay colored bluffs. I made a lot of discoveries on that trip, including:

A legendary cowboy, who I interviewed years ago, spoke with me again, and gave me a marvelous motive for murder.
The highway signs around Sagebrush are still shot full of bullet holes.
A lone wild horse patrolling the line camp, was as curious about us as we were about him. Never getting close enough to touch, but never out of sight. The inquisitive fellow followed us for a mile or more to the gate of the public land that we crossed.
On the gate were the skeletal remains of a grinning coyote, perhaps a warning to other coyotes.
I am allergic to Sagebrush.

Yes, most of these things may make it into my next book. Except the allergy business. I could have cobbled together the story and fictitious town of Sagebrush for Death on Heels from my memories, but it would be nearly as vivid, and hopefully as true. Although I once swore I would never go back, I'm glad I did. I'm glad I said yes to more hands-on research.

Thank you, Maria, for letting me to guest blog today. It's an honor.

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Thanks, Ellen! Love the story about Sagebrush. Readers, tell us about a time you said "yes" and had an adventure…even if it was a lot less adventuresome than Ellen's. A random commenter will will a copy of Shot Through Velvet.