You know how gossip works, right?
If you don't, go play a game of Telephone and then come back and talk to me. Or better yet, talk about me to someone else.
I had one of those moments last week when someone said to me, "I've heard you're good at finding people."
My response was, "Well, that's not entirely correct. I'm good at finding dead people." Here's the thing about dead people: they don't move, they don't marry, and they technically don't divorce. (Don't think about that last one for too long, it will just make watching The Sound of Music awkward.) There are also protections around the identities of live people that there aren't around the dead.
So I expected to get no where.
I first started using search engines in a time before Google . . . a time when dinosaurs were terraforming the earth and human kind was living underground - Sorry, got a little off topic there. Anyway, I don't mind searching for something in ten different ways, especially if I don't have to use boolean. After a ridiculous amount of staring at things that had nothing to do with the person I was looking for, I stumbled on a genealogical website. Not one of those pay-per-month things, but a website dedicated to one particular family line that this person just happened to intersect with. That gave me a middle name and a potential married name. I ran those through Google and ended up on Facebook staring at a person who may or may not be who I was looking for.
But yes, my dear Watson, it was the right person.
If you don't, go play a game of Telephone and then come back and talk to me. Or better yet, talk about me to someone else.
I had one of those moments last week when someone said to me, "I've heard you're good at finding people."
My response was, "Well, that's not entirely correct. I'm good at finding dead people." Here's the thing about dead people: they don't move, they don't marry, and they technically don't divorce. (Don't think about that last one for too long, it will just make watching The Sound of Music awkward.) There are also protections around the identities of live people that there aren't around the dead.
 |
| Obligatory image of a graveyard. |
So I expected to get no where.
I first started using search engines in a time before Google . . . a time when dinosaurs were terraforming the earth and human kind was living underground - Sorry, got a little off topic there. Anyway, I don't mind searching for something in ten different ways, especially if I don't have to use boolean. After a ridiculous amount of staring at things that had nothing to do with the person I was looking for, I stumbled on a genealogical website. Not one of those pay-per-month things, but a website dedicated to one particular family line that this person just happened to intersect with. That gave me a middle name and a potential married name. I ran those through Google and ended up on Facebook staring at a person who may or may not be who I was looking for.
But yes, my dear Watson, it was the right person.
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I started working on Cinderella: Magic Ruins Everything, but I got a little stuck. I need to toy with it a little more, before it'll actually be edible. BUT! This story has possibly my favorite first line out of anything I've ever written. You ready? Here it is:
“I wish he’d quit with the damned shoe already,” Stella complained.'Cause really, isn't the prince that annoying guy who just can't let something go? Maybe Cinderella doesn't want to be found. Maybe she regrets listening to some weird quasi-relative who appeared while she was dress shopping. Maybe things aren't as simple as they seem.