About the Book

When Life Imitates Art: Writing On the Same Page

It’s remarkable, and true, that the small community of Martha’s Vineyard (winter population about 17,000) can sustain two independently owned newspapers. For at least a decade, I imagined writing about the quirky relationship between the two papers (both of which I, and several of my friends, have freelanced for—but never at the same time, since one of the papers really does have a proscription against it).

As a Shakespeare geek, I had the initial impulse to create a romance between writers of rival papers, à la Romeo and Juliet. But before I could write that story, I got scooped by reality: a journalist from each paper took a liking to each other and got married. Can’t beat that.

So I turned to my favorite Shakespearean comedies, As You Like It and Twelfth Night. These both feature a woman who must pass as a young man to get by in difficult circumstances. My own novels also feature characters with false faces (most notably Revenge of the Rose), so apparently my subconscious finds that theme delicious. I developed the plot of this story accordingly. Because it was about a female writer who grew up on the Vineyard, left, and returned, it was inevitable that art imitated life; I confess to certain autobiographical elements.

Then I reached out to associate publisher Jamie Kageleiry at Martha’s Vineyard Times. Over the years, I’ve written some features for Jamie (who used to work at the Vineyard Gazette), and I currently write a tongue-in-cheek advice column, “MV Ps and Qs,” for the Vineyard Times. I was spending my winter in Boston, but I asked her—since I was coming home for the month of March—if I could shadow a “real” journalist at work, or at least hang out around the office, for research.

“Actually, if you have the time,” she’d said, “I’d love to hire you to do some reporting for us.”

I cautiously said yes, adding, “Kind of funny, this is what happens to my lead character—the editor of the Times-like paper sends her to cover West Tisbury.”

“Oh, good,” said Jamie, “because I’d like you to cover West Tisbury.”

So I did. Or tried to, anyhow.

Jamie and others high up on the masthead were patient and generous with me, but I was not a natural. Still, this happy coincidence gave me a great opportunity to research what it felt like to be inept at local political reporting. Thus giving the story an additional soupçon of autobiography.