WATTPAD BRINGS YOU A GUEST POST FROM MARY E. MARTIN, AUTHOR OF Conduct in Question:
As a child, I made up stories. As a teenager, I wrote them down. At University, I nearly stopped. English literature classes had nothing to do with creativity and everything to do with criticism. Discouraging! On graduation, I surprised everyone by going into law. After fifteen years of law practice and three children, I started to write—again. As I tell you here about Conduct in Question, you’ll see how important place—geographic, chronological, social or spiritual—has been for my writing.
My law practice gave me a window on the world of humanity—perfect for a writer-in-the-making. After years of listening to clients, I had my own stories for Conduct in Question. I named the trilogy after Osgoode Hall, the law courts in Toronto.
Osgoode Hall, Toronto
I modeled my protagonist/lawyer, Harry Jenkins, on my senior partner, a wise and kind gentleman, with whom I began practice when he was sixty-five. Harry, my partner’s younger, novelistic version, is longing for freedom and love. Trapped under his senior law partner’s thumb and in a loveless marriage, he’s at his breaking point. The city is haunted by the spectre of the Florist, a sadistic murderer with an artistic flair. When his partner drops dead in the office, Harry is free to make his own mistakes.
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This is my protagonist, Harry Jenkins
This is the trademark of the serial killer dubbed The Florist
Did I tell you that I’m a born and bred Torontonian? One’s hometown forms a very solid place for a writer to set his or her scenes. Toronto has grown from a staid, provincial town into an energetic home for people all over the planet. Let me show you around my city and how it permeates my writing.
Marjorie Deighton’s house in High Park
Marjorie Deighton, one of Harry’s wealthiest clients, lives in High Park. Her stately home is the centre of a massive money-laundering scheme and murder. My father, a school teacher, made extra money as a real estate agent in the summer and so I’ve seen a lot of neighbourhoods—some grand and some not so. Childhood memory permeates this novel.
St. Timothy’s Church next to Marjorie’s house
Next to Marjorie’s house stands a church, where a child is molested. The Archbishop wants to sell it to pay the court judgments of innocent children. My family did not attend church. Consequently, it has always seemed a mysterious and remote place which is why it figures so prominently in the novel.
Laura is Harry’s wife. Money has poisoned their love and marriage. This is her Rosedale childhood home. When I was a child, my Dad and I would drive through its leafy, winding streets always hoping to sell one of them—but he never did. A feeling of exclusion from the “grand” parts of the city comes through in the novel. In the 1950’s immigrants flocked to Toronto and so it had not only very expensive areas but also near poverty stricken back lanes.
Laura’s Rosedale mansion
Harry’s childhood home
Harry grew up in this house light years from Rosedale and Laura’s home. To Harry, it was neat square and ordinary. A personal connection? This is the first house my father ever sold. I went through it as it was being built.
Harry’s new client, the wealthy Mr. Chin, has his offices in Chinatown. The massive money-laundering fraud spreads out from here aided by the venerable law firm Cheney, Arpin. In a fast growing city, sources of money are numerous and plentiful and, under the surface, fraud often lurks. Harry reports money laundering fraud by the lawyers to the discipline committee at Osgoode Hall.
Mr. Chin’s Chinatown in Toronto
Harry is a reluctant member of the Alton Club, bastion of wealth, power and sexism. When I began law practice, women were excluded from such places.
The Alton Club
Harry’s Bank, The Toronto-Royal
Harry insists that banks are not your friends. We share certain views. Anyone who has run a small business knows what Harry’s saying. According to him, the banks lure you into the valley of debt only to issue ugly demands for payment.
The Scarborough Bluffs
Harry comes to the Scarborough Bluffs, lying east of downtown, when he learns his wife is leaving. His reflection on the city shows the heavy loss he feels.
“The afternoon sun shimmered on the smooth and sheer rock face. On the horizon, his city lay reduced to a tiny black smudge, as if it had floated away from him forever. With Laura gone, the city he once loved existed only in a jumble of memory.”
Massey Hall, where Marjorie Deighton first heard “Pomp and Circumstance”
Near the end of the story, Harry wanders into Massey Hall, a concert venue. He’s broken free of his past and is beginning life anew.
“He opened the tall, heavy doors of the concert hall, to see a lone figure sweeping away paper cups and empty soda cans. Beyond the next set of doors, he could hear the sombre tones of a chamber ensemble in rehearsal. Sometimes his life seemed spent in doorways, looking beyond to the future, longing to step forward into the light, but fearing to do so. And so he had spent years clinging to a dead marriage and a hopeless position under Crawford’s thumb. The time for change had come.”
From this, I hope you’ll see that one’s hometown can have a very great affect on what and how you write—for, I believe, place forms the writer’s world view and provides themes to explore. At least, for me, it has.
———
Since publishing Conduct in Question in 2005, I have written and published four other novels.
The Osgoode Trilogy is composed of Conduct in Question, Final Paradox and A Trial of One.
The Trilogy of Remembrance is two thirds complete. You can read some of The Drawing Lesson, the first in the trilogy on Wattpad. The next novel is The Fate of Pryde.
Print copies of all novels are available on Amazon.
Download E-books for any reading device from SmashWords.com.