I am currently writing a magic realism novel about an elderly woman, a bottle collector, who believes that the souls of the town’s flood victims are trapped inside her bottles. The premise is definitely out there, but the story itself was inspired by a real person. I’m not talking about the details …the who, what, where, when. I’m referring to that spark that eventually grew into a plot with characters who interact and feel.

The truth is, my novel The Glass Bottle People and its eccentric character, Vivian Newman, are derived from my late mother-in-law, Rebecca Hobbs Hill, and her cluttered New Hampshire home.

I first stepped foot in that house on a July day over thirty years ago, when my husband dragged me to his hometown, New London. My in-laws weren’t there at the time. I think they were visiting my sister-in-law in Germany. Unlike the grand home in my novel, my husband’s childhood home was brown and rustic. In recent years, new owners have painted it hunter green. There’s no way to put this other than state it outright… the place was messy and cluttered, but not dirty.

Antique furniture, knick-knacks, and remnants of life, such as soccer game schedules, playbills, church programs, and invitations crowded the rooms and shelves. I remember putting my disposable camera down somewhere and never ever finding it again. I recall thinking, who is this packrat family I’ve married into? My mother kept a neat house. She always picked up before our company visited.  I couldn’t imagine traveling to Europe for three weeks without putting the plates in the dish rack and back into the cupboard, or stacking dressers and desks on top of one another, or having no space to push a vacuum through a room. I told myself that Becky had been in a rush and hadn’t known I was visiting, and the next time I came, I’d announce my visit and she’d straighten up the house.

But four months later, Thanksgiving rolled around. My husband called to tell his mother we’d be visiting, and the cleanup didn’t happen. The clutter remained intact, so much so, that moving around the house was difficult. I expected my mother-in-law to apologize or to appear embarrassed. But she didn’t, and clearly wasn’t. But she did point to my stomach, which had a tiny pregnancy paunch.

Her gray eyes light up. “You’re giving me a grandbaby, and it’s not even Christmas!”

And that’s when the character of Vivian Neumann was born. You see, in that moment, I understood that Rebecca Hobbs Hill had decided what was important to her long before I’d married her youngest son. And her priority wasn’t doing housework, impressing her neighbors, or organizing her closets. It was living life and believing in its magic.

Thanks for reading! Do you have a character who’s based on something in your life? Where do your story ideas come from? Reach out. I’d love to hear from you.