I have a confession to make: I like graveyards. In fact, I’ve always been fascinated by them, especially the older ones. I rarely think of sadness and death when I’m in a cemetery. Instead, I love wandering through the maze of headstones reading the epitaphs on the graves, and thinking about all of those stories and personalities from the past represented in each acre of cemetery ground.

I used to think I was a little strange for feeling this way, but once I delved into the research for Here Lies Linc, I quickly found that plenty of people—especially kids—share my fascination. Out of all the field trips that the schools in my town organize each year, one of the most popular is only a short bus ride away—to nearby Oakland Cemetery, established in 1843, where students can learn about local history by studying the graves.

Of course a big part of our curiosity about cemeteries probably has to do with the fact that most of us can’t resist a good ghost story and graveyards are chock full of them. Take the story of the Black Angel, for instance. As soon as the school bus rolls up to Oakland Cemetery on one of those field trips I mentioned, chances are that several kids will start begging to run over and see the legendary Black Angel—a nine and a half-foot tall bronze statue of an angel with her huge wings drooped and her mournful face turned to the ground. Dark legends and superstition have swirled around this mysterious burial monument ever since it was erected during the early 1900s.

I began hearing the stories shortly after moving to Iowa City. As one legend goes, a preacher’s son is buried beneath the Angel and the statue turned from gleaming bronze to forbidding black as a symbol of the evil truth—that the preacher had actually murdered his son. Other tales tell of the unlucky fortunes, even deaths, that continue to befall those who touch the Angel or foolishly dare to kiss her at midnight on Halloween.

Gradually, I became more curious and began to research the facts behind the statue. I learned that a Czech immigrant named Theresa Feldevert had erected the memorial to honor her dead husband and a son who tragically passed away at eighteen. An important key to my research was finding a translator who could decipher the mysterious Czech epitaph that appears on the base of the Angel.The more secrets I uncovered, the more I began to realize that the true stories behind graveyards and “haunted” sites like the Black Angel are often much more interesting than the ghost stories that surround them.

Besides finally learning the truth about the Black Angel’s history, one of my favorite parts about writing Here Lies Linc was the fact that the main setting for my novel is located less than five miles from my house. Whenever I needed a little extra writing inspiration or to confirm details of my graveyard descriptions, I simply jumped on my bike and rode over to Oakland Cemetery for a closer look. Here are a few photos of the sites in Oakland that inspired many of the scenes in the book:

The cemetery office

A hilltop view of the older section of Oakland featuring some of the huge trees that gave the cemetery its name.

One of the graves in the “Babyland” section of the cemetery. You can see gifts—spring flowers, pennies, plastic Easter eggs, and small statues—that this infant’s loved ones have left on her stone.

A spooky night-time visit to one of Oakland’s crypts with my daughters, their cousins, and our beloved dog, Griff, who is the model for Linc’s dog C.B.

The Black Angel by candlelight on Halloween.

Here’s a close-up view of Griff (aka C.B.), who we adopted from the animal shelter in 2001. This photo was taken after a trip to the groomer. Usually Griff is much shaggier with extra-luxurious eyebrows.

Take a look at what went into the research for Ghost Girl

Take a look at what went into the research for Singing Hands