Smiling nervously while thinking “No way I’m going up there.”

STAY, as you probably know, is a book about a girl and her father who run to a remote seaside town in order to escape her obsessive boyfriend. And for my essay for this particular book, I know that some people might expect me to write about obsessive boyfriends, stalking, what to do if you find yourself in this situation, or better yet, how NOT to get there at all. It might even be seen as my writerly duty. But I’ve never liked doing what I’m supposed to do. Ask my Mom and Dad. Or better yet, my poor sister, who got stuck doing the dishes when I managed to find every fake stomach ache or head throb to weasel out of it. Once again, sis, I’m sorry.

So let’s just agree. If you are in any situation that sounds remotely like the one Clara was in, speak up. Tell someone. Look after yourself. Get help, if you need it. You probably need it. It’s a dangerous place to be. Most of all, be safe. Please. Listen to me on this one. Deal? Excellent.

Haven’t I seen those clouds on the STAY cover?

Now, instead, here’s what I really want to talk about: The setting of STAY.

STAY takes place on Bishop Rock, an island I made up, loosely based on a real one: Whidbey Island. Whidbey is a short drive (or ferry ride) from Seattle, where I live. To get there by car, you have to go over Deception Pass, and its looming, frightening, thrilling bridge. After Clara crosses this bridge, she feels a sense of pride: “It had a sort of significance, though I didn’t know what kind. It had to – you didn’t cross the perilous distance over deception without it meaning something.” (Sorry for quoting myself. I hate that. Still, you get the idea.)

My husband and I took a trip back over Deception Pass ourselves to Whidbey last weekend, to revisit the setting of STAY, and to just plain enjoy a great day trip. Although I have walked across that bridge in the past, I didn’t do it this time. I’m telling you, that’s one scary dude. But it’s also dramatic and spooky and magnificent. It struck me again what a perfect setting it was for STAY. Even the clouds that day at first looked just like the book cover.

Happy author at Whidbey lighthouse

Creating setting is one of my favorite parts of writing a book. If you’ve read my other books, too, you’ve probably guessed this. The towns I create reappear in my books, and I love spending time in those places, even in my imagination: Nine Mile Falls, Parrish Island, and Bishop Rock. I especially loved “spending time” in/on Bishop Rock, so much so that I set my next book, THE STORY OF US, there, too. Since it takes a year or more for me to write a book, it helps to enjoy the setting I’m “in.” Writing about Bishop Rock was like being on a mental vacation.

To me, setting is one of the most important elements in a book. When I create setting, I think of it as a character. I believe it should live and breathe as a character would; it should have its own quirks and traits as a character would, too. Its moods should shift and evolve. Every town (or city or beach or anywhere) I’ve lived or visited has had its own pulse and heartbeat and personality. A place, not just its people, has a temperament, too.

Climbing the lighthouse stairs

The Pacific Northwest is character everywhere you look, from its craggy, tumultuous mountains to the mysterious, solitary islands set about in the waters of the Puget Sound, under which whales sing and slumber. See? I’m getting carried away again just thinking about it! I won’t break into a rousing verse of “America” and Purple Mountains Majesty lyrics, I promise! (Which as a kid, I always got wrong anyway: Above thy putrid grain. Very patriotic.) The point is, “setting as character” is easy here. I look around and feel it. I step outside, and there it is, offering itself.

The names around here are character-filled, too. Clara and her father joke about the heavy metaphors in the names of places around the island, but most of the names are the actual ones. Deception Pass is, and so is Possession Point, set at the tip of Whidbey Island. While I wish I could credit my imagination for those, the names-as-metaphor were already right there when I moved my characters to that particular island.

Guard your ankles…

And that’s part of what is so great about setting, particularly, setting here, in the Northwest where I live. It’s all given to you, like the biggest, most beautiful present. Setting as character, moods, temperament, even names… Artistry. It’s all right here already. All I have to do is pay attention. I just need to be a good, appreciative audience. Which is not hard. Which is pure pleasure, actually. That day, we drove over Deception Pass, and out toward Possession Point, and we stopped at the Whidbey lighthouse. We stuck our toes in the freezing water, edged down the same cliffs Clara’s father broke his ankle on. We saw four eagles and a seal, climbed the lighthouse stairs and looked out over the haunted waters of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, where ships went missing long ago.

Beach magic

Maybe I love writing setting so much because I love living setting so much. It’s given and you take it, you take it in, and it changes you. That day, I think I felt a little like Clara did at the end of the book. The ocean and the air and the beach had worked their magic. I felt the past, and I felt the present. And I felt the wind, pushing me forward.