Brenda Stanley's Blog - Posts Tagged "books-with-twists"
Why I Set It Happened in the Hollow in My Own Backyard
It Happened in the HollowWhen people ask why I chose to set It Happened in the Hollow where I did, the answer is simple: it’s my backyard.
Not my hometown. Not the place I grew up. But the place I came to, chose, and now call home. Out here, the river runs just beyond the trees, winding its way through the valley like a living thread. The woods stretch deep and quiet, hiding their own rhythms and secrets. And every day, those natural elements whisper stories—some real, some imagined. Eventually, one of those stories grew into this novel.
Setting the book here wasn’t a calculated decision. It felt instinctive. I’ve walked these trails, stood knee-deep in the river’s current, and watched the light shift through the trees at dusk. There’s a solitude and beauty to this land, but there’s also a tension—a sense that something could be just out of sight. It’s peaceful, yes, but never without mystery.
The setting in It Happened in the Hollow is more than a backdrop—it’s a character. The hollow watches. The woods remember. And the river, always moving, carries more than water. I didn’t have to invent that feeling. I live it.
Writing this story here allowed me to blur the lines between real and imagined. The fictional town is not an exact replica of my surroundings, but the soul of the place—the isolation, the wonder, the weight of silence—is absolutely drawn from what I experience daily. There’s something about living in a place where nature dominates, where community is close-knit and quiet, and where the past never fully lets go, that made this the only setting that could hold the story I wanted to tell.
This land has shaped me as much as it shaped the novel. It’s where I’ve found inspiration, comfort, and reflection. It’s where the story was born because it’s where the story belongs.
Not my hometown. Not the place I grew up. But the place I came to, chose, and now call home. Out here, the river runs just beyond the trees, winding its way through the valley like a living thread. The woods stretch deep and quiet, hiding their own rhythms and secrets. And every day, those natural elements whisper stories—some real, some imagined. Eventually, one of those stories grew into this novel.
Setting the book here wasn’t a calculated decision. It felt instinctive. I’ve walked these trails, stood knee-deep in the river’s current, and watched the light shift through the trees at dusk. There’s a solitude and beauty to this land, but there’s also a tension—a sense that something could be just out of sight. It’s peaceful, yes, but never without mystery.
The setting in It Happened in the Hollow is more than a backdrop—it’s a character. The hollow watches. The woods remember. And the river, always moving, carries more than water. I didn’t have to invent that feeling. I live it.
Writing this story here allowed me to blur the lines between real and imagined. The fictional town is not an exact replica of my surroundings, but the soul of the place—the isolation, the wonder, the weight of silence—is absolutely drawn from what I experience daily. There’s something about living in a place where nature dominates, where community is close-knit and quiet, and where the past never fully lets go, that made this the only setting that could hold the story I wanted to tell.
This land has shaped me as much as it shaped the novel. It’s where I’ve found inspiration, comfort, and reflection. It’s where the story was born because it’s where the story belongs.
