When I got the idea to write No Better Man, my hero husband and I were vacationing in Aspen. We spent a couple of days exploring the quaint downtown area, hiking in the awe-inspiring surrounding mountains, and simply rejuvenating our relationship. I can honestly say our 14-year marriage has been full of happiness (though not without the challenges, too), but when you have kids and you both work at home and things are chaotic and rushed and stressful, every once in a while, you just have to get away. Together. Alone.

Every once in a while, you need a new adventure.

That weekend, I fell in love with Aspen. (My mom would say I’ve always had expensive taste.) But it wasn’t the beautiful Gucci storefronts or the numerous couture shops that captured my heart. It was the startling contrast between the high-end luxury and the rustic, unrefined personality of the town itself. On the same block, you can visit a five-star restaurant and a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place with scrumptious fish tacos. As I walked around, I wondered how that contrast would play out in people. What if you took a wealthy, groomed city girl and plopped her in the heart of the Rockies? Yes, it’s been done (nothing new under the sun!) but something about the unique ambiance in Aspen brought those two things together so beautifully that I was inspired. I started thinking about characters and setting. I wasn’t yet convinced that Aspen was the right place to set the novel.

One morning, we woke up early to hike near the Maroon Bells. This happens to be the most photographed location in Colorado. The view of the glassy lake reflecting the three pyramid-shaped peaks surpasses beautiful. There are just no words to describe it, especially in the early morning light. We hiked all day, detouring off the trail to risk our lives and explore a waterfall on the side of a cliff. (More on that in another post.)

When we got back to the hotel later that evening, I took out my computer to capture some thoughts I was having about my quickly developing characters and plot. When I looked down, I realized the diamond had fallen out of my wedding ring. It was gone. Seeing that empty space made me burst into tears, which made my poor husband panic because I never cry. Unable to talk, I simply held up my hand and showed him the ring. We both assumed it had fallen out while were hiking, and we knew we’d never find it. “It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to get you a bigger diamond anyway. We’ll go look right now.” It was so sweet, but I didn’t want another ring. I didn’t want another diamond. Mine is only a half carat, but I’d had it on my finger for over ten years and I was pretty attached to it. In some ways I felt like it symbolized all of the hard work we’d done to make it that long. It might be small, but to me it held profound meaning. Sounds silly, right? But we writers can be pretty sentimental people.  

All evening, I thought about how we could get the diamond back. We could go look for it, I reasoned, even though I knew that was crazy. As I assumed my sleeping position—on my stomach with hands underneath the pillow—I felt this tiny piece of gravel underneath my palm.

A tiny piece of gravel.

In the bed?

Pinching it between my fingers, I rolled off of the mattress and sprinted to the bathroom to turn on the light. Sure enough, there was the diamond pinched between my fingers. That was when I knew I had to write the story in Aspen. Our adventure there was symbolic. When we left our house, we were a little lost in the daily chaos of our life together. I knew my characters would be a little lost, too. Like all of us, they would be missing a piece of themselves as the result of something painful or stressful or hard.

But I learned something in Aspen that I wanted to incorporate into the book. What you think is lost can always be found again, as long as you never give up hope.