Searching Locations for Next Historical Novel.

Hubby and I did a little traveling last week to seek out a location for my next historical novel. Searching Arizona is like receiving Christmas presents that just keep coming. We drove to Jerome. For those of you who have never heard of the town, don't feel bad, I had never heard of it, either. It's a treasure! Built on the side of a mountain and overlooking Sedona far in the distance, I felt like I was in a European village. Of course, I've never been to Europe, so I'm just speculating. I uploaded several pictures. Don't you just love the police car? I'm not sure if its really used or just for looks. I read some brochures about the history of the town and discovered it was once the copper mining capital of the world, with a few thousand residents, but when the copper mines played out, it became a ghost town in the 1950s until the hippies moved in. After the hippies, it experienced a revival and is now populated with many artisans, galleries, and restaurants. It's a lovely place--perhaps the setting for another book? Hmm.

In the valley below Jerome, we traveled through the "C" towns as I call them--Clarkedale, Cottonwood, and Cornville--on our way to Sedona. They are lovely towns with much history. There is a train that departs Clarkedale and travels the canyons of Sedona. We didn't have opportunity to ride it, but it's on our bucket list. Cottonwood's Old Town is wonderful and also on our bucket list to wander one day. Cornville, is a tiny hub with beautiful countryside. Blink, and you're already through the town.

Our primary destination was Sedona and if you've never been there, you're in for a surprise. The terrain is nothing like the nearby "C" towns. Because of the iron in the soil, the countryside is red, it's rough, and it's incredibly beautiful. We took a road trip in a jeep with a guide to two vortices, side-by-side, that are said to be female and male (don't ask me to explain that; I haven't a clue). There is an ancient tree standing between the vortices whose branches and trunk are swirled. Of course, that kind of mystical stuff is something I love, so I started daydreaming a story combining history with a touch fantasy--how about a reclusive female healer of the 1800s living near the vortices, and a father whose last hope for his daughter is the healer. To add conflict, he must overcome great difficulty in finding the healer, even though he has little belief in such skill. Perhaps the story will one day come to fruition. Sigh.