Gimme!

I think that might work, but you might want to fiddle with the description in such a way that it intimates the existence of a character, because while it's cool to start with a description of the Archive, you don't want to make the reader think the entire prologue is going to be like a history lesson. Maybe it's already there in the tone, though.

Yep, that's been my biggest issue. I wanted to start with the mystery (and establish the room as a character, in a sense), but I also didn't want it to feel like a history lesson. Trust me, I'm actually doing a lot better! One of my earlier drafts was about twice as long because I had written all kinds of history into it that didn't need to be there.

Gimme!

You got it.

serial, and I don't mean the comma:

Connie, I have already seen books with references to 911. And I actually think that something set in "contemporary Manhatten" without a 911 reference is much more off-putting. There just wasn't anyone in the city who wasn't affected in a major, life-altering way, and (for me, personally) it bothers me when authors pretend it never happened. Even if it doesn't get published for several years, I can't see it not being relevant and essential to that character's past.

Also:

The heroine was in a relationship with a severely abusive man, but she was finally able to walk away--true, she'd just gotten engaged to someone else, but one takes one's impetuses where one can. If I did the scene where she walks away from him, and the villain is apparently calm and supportive while she's terribly nervous but determined, it should make people wonder what's up with that. Plus if people think she's gotten married, readers shouldn't automatically realize it's her when she turns up single again. This could work.

I love that idea. I think that would work beautifully.

There just wasn't anyone in the city who wasn't affected in a major, life-altering way, and (for me, personally) it bothers me when authors pretend it never happened.

See, for me, I just think of Trudes at brunch talking about meeting her friend on top of the World Trade Center, and how she seemed so natural. Maybe 9/11 was in the back of her mind, but it felt like she was comfortable with the reference.

There just wasn't anyone in the city who wasn't affected in a major, life-altering way, and (for me, personally) it bothers me when authors pretend it never happened.

I'm afraid I'm going to sound hopelessly shallow for even attempting to defend my POV above, but I think it entirely depends on the type of work. There's a certain style of book that just feels like it's set in a sort of alternate reality present, and in those books any too-specific reference to current events or recent history jars me, because it seems to anchor them to a specific historical moment in a way that hinders rather than helps my enjoyment of the story.

See, for me, I just think of Trudes at brunch talking about meeting her friend on top of the World Trade Center, and how she seemed so natural. Maybe 9/11 was in the back of her mind, but it felt like she was comfortable with the reference.

No, I get that--I'm not saying that someone always has to be talking or thinking about it. But if the question is whether or not it is gauche for a character who lived through it to think about it in a moment of meloncholy, then I say not at all.

ETA: That was in response to P-C.

Susan, I hear what you're saying and actually agree--I was just thinking that if Connie is already thinking about including it, then it sounds likely to be a more "this history" kind of book.

Ah--see, I read her question as more, "Do I have to include this?" which made me think her story was more a timeless alterna-present book.

Oh, good point, Susan. I may have misread.

In any case, hopefully all of our various takes on the issue will be helpful for you one way or another, Connie!

Connie, I use prologues in some things, where I feel (or in the case of Famous Flower, my agent and editor rightly felt) that a setting between the past and the present acts as a hook and/or a good way to set a mise en scene.

Plainsong begins with a gently blasphemous joke (it was actually told to me by a Jesuit priest), and sums up the purpose of the book. Famous Flower has a prologue to let the reader know as he or she reads, later on, that the thing has continued to taint Hawthorne Walk has been there all along. And the prologue I'm almost done with for Cruel Sister is vital, since it leads to a major misconception on the part of the protagonists.

Kristin, got yours. Will curl up with and with Susan's, as well, ASAP.

It's been very helpful! Yes, it's meant to be a "this could be happening in the building down the street" sort of thing. The specific situation involves the heroine standing on the balcony of her apartment, looking at the view she has towards the harbor and mentioning how she's still getting used to the different view. It's one of those melancholy moments that could turn into a hurt/comfort kind of seductions--and she's trying to decide if she should let that happen so that she has a hook into the hero. Then she remembers that she learned that kind of trick from the villain, and it's all sorts of lovely angst for her.

My biggest fear on gaucheness is triggering a "you weren't there, how dare you use this as part of a work of entertainment!" reaction. Somehow disrespectful. It's different with the Spiderman movies airbrushing the towers out and not bringing it to the forefront. Still, the Manhattanites--hell, the New Yorkers I've heard talking about it say it's never far from their minds, especially when they see the gap. I look at the pictures I took when I was in Manhattan in '98 and feel the loss.

I guess it comes down to the obvious: I'm writing the story of a woman who lived through it. It's not a factor in her current trouble, but it's part of her world. It's actually a useful hook for a conversation that invites two people into further mental intimacy. I guess I'll have to write it up and run it by some folks and see how it works.