Ask the Author: J.L. Michael
Answered Questions (2)
J.L. Michael
Hi, Shida. Yes, that is my X profile. No bother, and have a great day.
J.L. Michael
Origin of my novel-- Missteps Perfecting the Shutterbug Strut
I live in a cold weather state. Seeking a winter escape to tropical climes is high on my daydream list. A few years back, I came across a great airfare to Quito, Ecuador. Without hesitation, it was booked. The trip was split between the Galapagos (where else do people run into the water holding phones high when someone yells “Shark!”?) and more intrepid excursions along the outer fringes of the Amazon jungle. I had booked reservations at the Hamadryade Lodge along the Rio Napo, as not to rough-it too much. My daughter, Alexandra, was age three at the time. One day at the lodge, I was teaching “Alee” to swim in the pool. I quipped to my spouse, “At least Alee will be able to honestly say that she learned to swim in the Amazon jungle.” I gave passing thought that it would make for a good opening line to an adventure novel and left it at that. What I did not yet know was that moment had relit my author’s pilot light.
Six months later, while lazing in Samara, Costa Rica, the fever hit. I was in our lodge’s pool teaching Alee to swim—howler monkeys prancing the trees above—when it thunderstruck: female adventuress; more hijinks, less gunplay; she's a 20-something photographer; it will start in Papua (I still have no clue where the Papua angle came from). Part offbeat adventure, part madcap historical, part outright the unexpected, would entail the genre formula. Upon return to Maine, I started my research, and I’m amazed to this day how everything soon fell into place.
I live in a cold weather state. Seeking a winter escape to tropical climes is high on my daydream list. A few years back, I came across a great airfare to Quito, Ecuador. Without hesitation, it was booked. The trip was split between the Galapagos (where else do people run into the water holding phones high when someone yells “Shark!”?) and more intrepid excursions along the outer fringes of the Amazon jungle. I had booked reservations at the Hamadryade Lodge along the Rio Napo, as not to rough-it too much. My daughter, Alexandra, was age three at the time. One day at the lodge, I was teaching “Alee” to swim in the pool. I quipped to my spouse, “At least Alee will be able to honestly say that she learned to swim in the Amazon jungle.” I gave passing thought that it would make for a good opening line to an adventure novel and left it at that. What I did not yet know was that moment had relit my author’s pilot light.
Six months later, while lazing in Samara, Costa Rica, the fever hit. I was in our lodge’s pool teaching Alee to swim—howler monkeys prancing the trees above—when it thunderstruck: female adventuress; more hijinks, less gunplay; she's a 20-something photographer; it will start in Papua (I still have no clue where the Papua angle came from). Part offbeat adventure, part madcap historical, part outright the unexpected, would entail the genre formula. Upon return to Maine, I started my research, and I’m amazed to this day how everything soon fell into place.
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