#WritersCoffeeClub #WCC 2026.01.19 — Talk about something (even if very small!) from your own life which made it onto the page.
My mother was a bailbondswoman in the midwest in the 1960s, when I was growing up. Contrary to popular media and conceptions of good guys and bad guys, people still ended up being people. I was brought up in the company of bank robbers, thieves, mafioso, ex-convicts, as well law enforcement. People out on bond that Mom knew. Some I referred to as uncle or aunt (a polite honorific that children were taught to use). It would be hypocritical of me not to paint such people in shades of grey when they appear in my stories; I knew them, and their families, visited their homes. Not saying they weren't criminal or dangerous, or that they were victims of the system or privilege. Each person has their reasons. And there are reasons not to trust certain people without verifying. Even the good guys. Verisimilitude can be a bitch, too.
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
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