Best of...

I'm celebrating four years here at LindaMercury.com! And as part of the good times, I'm re-posting some of my earlier posts.

Today's post is, "Hands On Research" from April 15, 2009.

***

By training and preference, I love research through the writer's traditional resources - print, photographs, online ready-reference.

This week, though, I got down and dirty with first hand experience. There are some things a girl just can not learn through other people's words.

Like how to shoot a firearm.

My good friend, a former Marine, graciously took me to a pistol range on Monday. There he patiently explained the handling of the four different pistols I ended up renting and shooting.

I learned what single action and double action meant, what the hammer did, how to hold the weapon, how to aim it, and finally, how to shoot it.

First came a revolver, the .38 Special. Next came two 9mm, a Sig and a Glock. Lastly, .45 Smith and Wesson.

The .38

The 9mm Sig

Whenever I learn something new, the oddest things stick out at me. I didn't expect to be tossed around as much as I was. I'm not small, nor am I weak. But my thumbs and wrist still feel like they've been gnawed on!

The 9mm Glock

Second, I was struck by the difference between the slow, accurate firing of the revolver and the faster, "throw a lot of bullets at it" feeling of the semi-automatics.

This one felt like it ripped my arms off.

Handling something that has the sole purpose of killing something is an interesting mixture of fear and power. It's not unlike getting behind the wheel of a car, but with a less ambiguous reasoning. After all, a car is also transportation.

Will I ever own one? Unlikely.

Will I fire them again? Most likely.

Will I try other firearms, such as rifles? Again, most likely.

This is information I need to make my writing vigorous, strong, and real. Lots of times, writers put in characters who are not affected by their ability to kill, who almost seem to seek it out.

I've already learned this is not truthful. Those who understand the kind of power and responsibility that come with holding life and death in their hands are more likely to never want to use it.

Sweet, tasty love

As I daydream about my Weapons Dealer Woman, I wonder what kind of man would love her. Of course, her clients would attempt to seduce her - after all, wouldn't you expect your lover to give you an incredible discount on your order for a gross of Super Seekrit High Powered Killing Thing?

But that's not love - it certainly can be funny, and perhaps fun, but I don't think she'd enjoy getting laid, not paid.

True love comes when someone sees your essence - the person you have the potential to be if you had enough courage. What would he see in this woman who had already sold her soul for revenge? What would she see in him?

I think he's going to be pretty compromised himself. Perhaps he'd be on the opposite side of the law - sort of. Perhaps he'd be her competitor.

And couldn't you just see these two violent and dangerous people meeting in the local coffeehouse and getting to know each other over a couple of decaffeinated lattes?

Coffee dates amongst the corrupt and wealthy! Now there's a situation for my angry girl.

Why I don't need to use illegal mood-altering substances.

This is an example of a random afternoon conversation in the Charming-Mercury household.

Me, arms full of clean laundry. I shout downstairs. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be an arms dealer?"

The Charming Man in the kitchen. "No."

Pause.

The Charming Man. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Me, standing over the bannister, holding clean sheets.  "I just wonder if it would be a good career. You never run out of market. It's recession-proof. There is always new stock being developed and you don't have to pay for the R&D."

The Charming Man, being logical.  "I doubt you'd like your clientele much. And you'd have to learn about guns."

Me: "Yeah, that would be far too much work. I certainly couldn't make a living off of selling pointy sticks."

***

But now I'm stuck wondering what kind of person goes into the arms trade? The stereotype is that of a selfish, thoughtless person. Would he or she be redeemable? What motivates them to enter this job? Why deal in the business of war at all?

And this is why I don't do drugs. I think like this all the time. :)