My mystery-writing career began when someone lost a shoe.
I found it.
To the consternation of the woman walking with me, I shoved the shoe into my briefcase and took it home.
The next morning, I took the shoe to work and called my doctor.
Are you still with me? Oh, sorry, that was rather a large . . . um . . . step.
Okay, here’s how the conversation went, sort of.
Me: “Have any of your patients reported losing an orthotic?”
Receptionist: “No.”
Me: “Because I found one. It matches my orthotic.”
Receptionist: “Is it yours?”
Me: “No. The sticker on the bottom of mine says Bolin. The sticker on the bottom of hers is torn, but these are the letters I can read. T-E-N-A.”
Receptionist: “First or last name?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Silence.
Me: (getting desperate—as anyone who has ever purchased orthotics knows, they are hideously expensive.) “It’s in a blue suede woman’s shoe, size 8M.”
More silence. Then, with a great deal of doubt, “I’ll see if we have any patients matching that.” Click. Dial tone.
My sense of triumph lasted at least an hour. But day after day passed, and I didn’t hear from the doctor’s office. Some poor woman had lost an expensive item, and could be hobbling around on very sore feet. On one very sore foot.
What could have possibly happened to her? Maybe something terrible.
I started to write about a woman setting out to find the owner of a lost shoe. I scribbled and scribbled (actually, I keyed the words, but scribbling sounds much more dramatic) and couldn’t stop.
Finally, I received a call. “I hear you found my shoe.”
Tena showed up at my office to collect her shoe and her expensive orthotic. She brought me a HUGE chocolate chip cookie in the shape of a high-heeled shoe. “The people in my office are calling you the Shoe Goddess,” she said.
Breaking off and gobbling chunks of cookie, the people in my office probably started thinking of me as the Chocolate Chip Cookie Goddess.
We all lived happily ever after.
All of us, that is, except for the woman in my story who lost a shoe . . .
That was my first manuscript, the one that lives in the proverbial drawer. But I was hooked on writing mysteries.
What about you? Did you ever do something strange that propelled you into accomplishing something you’d always wanted to try?
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