They even had an old fashioned card catalog!

The book that I’m writing is making me crazy. It’s by far the hardest one to research yet–and I thought the one where the cast went to Greece had been difficult. Believe me, it’s nothing compared to this one.

And the craziest part is, the bulk of this “Regency” takes place in America. Early America. 1815 America to be exact. You’d think that would be a lot easier to research what with me being an American and all, but this has been a nightmare. Everyone thinks they know the answer and I’ve been given lots of advice, all of which I know is unequivocally wrong based on what I’ve learned so far. Everyone is an expert who doesn’t know shit.

I don’t want to divulge the actual issue I’m dealing with–I’ll have it all worked out eventually (bah!!!!) and you can read it when it comes out–but it has to do with traveling. I’ve been all over the internet. I’ve read old books, read personal accounts, looked at maps on line till my eyes crossed. I’ve contacted the Missouri State Historical Society, who sent me to, of all places, The Arizona State Historical Society–more on that later. I’ve

can you even remember the last time you used one of these?

requested historical articles from the 1816 Missouri Gazette. Yet, I’m still floundering over a specific issue. I wish I could just change my plot and get rid of this nightmare, but that’s not going to work out either.

I started out today with a great deal of hope. I headed down to the AZ Historical Society library. I’ve never been in a historical reading room before. Not that I don’t have hopes of making it to the Vatican and poking around in their library some day. At least now I’ll be prepared. Did you know you can’t take anything in the room with you? ANYTHING. The librarian made me sign a huge form that promised a long and protracted death should I maim the books in any way such as marking in them, folding or tearing a page, or exhaling garlic breath on the bindings.  Then she gave me a quarter and told me to put EVERYTHING in a locker outside. No, I may not keep a notebook. No, not a pen either. I shoved my purse into the locker, but squirreled my cell phone in my jeans pocket, because really. After a stern look from the librarian, she gave me the book I needed.

It was in fabulous shape considering it was written in 1818. I suspect that’s because no one is

I don’t know what library they’re at but this would not have been allowed where I was

allowed to look at the books too sternly.

Don’t you know the minute I settled in with my official AZ Historical Society pencil and piece of blue paper parceled out for notes, my nose started running. I didn’t have any Kleenix since I didn’t have my purse. There was none in the library either. What the hell would they do to me if I got snot on their book? Holy shit. I was terrified. I sniffed and sniffed and sniffed until I started sounding like a cocaine addict.

At one point, I noticed someone–someone who was NOT me–had made “x’s” in the margin on pages 164 and 165. Do I narc them out? Do I erase them? What if the librarian noticed me erasing and assumed I wrote the “x’s” in the first place. She’d never believe the girl with the obvious cocaine addiction if I told them it wasn’t me. I quickly turned the page just in case. I have no idea what was on those pages. I’ll bet the exact information I needed was right there.  I’ll never know.

I left the library still frustrated, but not remanded to the library prison so I consider that a win. Still, I’m not accepting any calls that come from that number.