Ask any author and they will tell you: Research is first, last, and every moment in between writing.

No author is knowledgeable about everything. That romance you love about the hero who is a pilot--yep!--that incredibly believable aerial jargon he uses before he offers the full use of his cockpit to the heroine, researched. That word you laughed at in the story because it sounds like a bad pun for blushing like a small farm animal? (Yes, redingote is a delightful, antiquated term for a woman's contrasting long coat.) And if you use the term in a book with a plot that predates 1725, every history buff will come out of the woodwork and make a sullen silhouette out of you.

My recent deep dive into the Regency era for my latest book, Bearding the Lyon, started off innocuous enough. Pay attention to fashions, J. M. Remember gas lamps weren't as prevalent in 1818 London as in 1820. Those two years make a difference! Good thing you read all about Greek mythology in school and don't need to brush up on those when you off-handedly reference a single passing remark in conversation--

Hold up. What was the kid's name who flew too close to the sun? And was it Poseidon who had his liver eaten?

Yes, I forgot names. Yes, I had to look them up. And the best part of being an author is when you can put your own experiences into your story. My planned one-time quip between Anna and Jackson turned into a running gag throughout the book as I magnanimously bestowed my terrible retainment for names on my hero.

No petrified author here, folks. I admit, I don't know everything. But accepting my challenges and using them for literary fodder is a joy to write. AND I brushed up on my Greek myths. Take that Zeus--er, Hades. Perseus?

I'll be right back . . . ;)