I know I’m not a new soul, but I’m not sure I’m an old soul either. Too much pressure with wisdom and all that jazz.
But, a vintage soul. That I am.
Vintage dress addiction. Guilty.
Half of my Pandora stations pre-1970. Yep, guilty.
Exclaiming “jeepers” in my kitchen last week. Guilty again.
Pretending to live in another time via fiction. So guilty.
My unhealthy obsession with World War II prompted me to write my first book Beneath the Satin Gloves. I didn’t have a clue how to write a book. I had a dream that shook me to my core. The ideas started filtering onto some crappy notebook I scribbled on during my lunch break. After telling Mr. H about it, he dared me to write a book.
After three years of off and on, and one cross-country move, I finished my first book. Since none of the agents I solicited gave two shits, I self-published, happily joining the indie author movement.
I’ve sold a few books. Not a ton, but some.
I haven’t thought much about the 1940s, except during backstory parts of my current WIP, The Bra Game, which mainly takes place in the 1950s.
Once I released my first baby into the world, I just moved on.
Until one night recently when I looked out my window and stared at my imagination come to life right across the damn street. I blinked, I blinked some more.
But, it was still there. A freaking 1940s limousine.
Now I’m not going to say that my book is historically accurate to perfection. Writing about a time when neither you nor your parents existed doesn’t offer much insight.
By golly, I did my research as best as I could!
The one scene that stumped me involved a limousine. I wrote everything, then stared blankly and pondered for weeks. I knew limousines then looked nothing like they do today. In fact, without researching their appearance at all, I envisioned it.
Turns out, creepy as it is, I pictured the 1940s limousine exactly the way it looked.
Yes, I gave myself a big pat on the back and squealed like the nerd I truly I am. Yes, I dragged Mr. H across the street, even though we were tipsy and wearing our pajamas, just so we could look at it and take way too many pictures.
This gem belonged to a swanky (actually, they were just really cute) old couple, who were visiting Milwaukee for a car show. Don’t worry, we weren’t the only creepers ogling the limo.
In fact, almost every person that walked by stopped and stared.
It was cool to see so many pedestrians appreciate such an artistic piece of history parked on the street. How can you not be captivated by such a sleek machine? Original paint. Original interior. All preserved by a man who couldn’t help but love it endlessly.
After we went back upstairs to our teensy, vintage apartment, the owner came out to grab something out of his kick-ass car. Some college guys stopped and soon enough, the old dude and the young dudes were hanging out talking shop.
I’m not a car enthusiast, personally. But when I saw this 1940s limo, its old beauty warmed my silly, vintage soul.
What about you guys? Ever seen a historical wonder that made your heart go pitter-patter?
Britt Skrabanek 