There are a lot of elements that go into each character I write. The main ones have pages — literally pages — of material that undergirds their personalities; the minutia is incredible, and for the most part will never make it into the formal narrative of any novel. But to me, as the author, that level of detail helps to keep the characters from seeming unidimensional; it’s part of the secret sauce that makes Sean, Vasily and the rest of the cast from both series feel as though they live just a few doors down from me.
For example, did you know that Vasily has a weakness for macaroni and cheese? And not just any version, but the one that comes in a particular blue box. Having grown up in the rarefied air of Orange County, California, Vas had never been exposed to the joys of over processed food — at least, not until he met up with a certain green-eyed future police chief, one who had an unfortunate superstition that not eating an entire box prior to a championship swim meet would lead to doom. (Vas picked up that habit, too, and routinely downs an entire box the night before any of his Masters competitions — much to the chagrin of his fiancé.)
Or how about Sean’s fear that someone might catch him wearing glasses? He more or less admits to that when he meets Suzanne in Blindsided, and over subsequent novels have seen him furtively sneak on a pair of cheaters when he thinks no one is looking. While he endlessly ribs Vasily over his best friend’s anxiety at hitting thirty-five, our intrepid investigator is privately hiding just how uncomfortable he is about the growing signs time is beginning to catch up to him, too.
So, yeah, there’s quite a bit lurking in those character sheets.
Which brings me around to a popular question I often get when speaking with readers, and that is why we often see Sean and Vasily in business casual when they’re in the throes of a case. It’s a fair question; when I was doing my initial research for Blindsided, I went in with the assumption departments had a standard dress code for their officers. And while that turned out to be mostly true, I also discovered post-millennium that hard-and-fast rules had adjusted as ever younger generations joined the force.
Line officers — folks out on patrol or in formal settings — tend to wear the standard uniform as mandated by their home department, which varies immensely depending on where said department is located (and the kind of beat the individual is working). Senior staff — people at the level of Vas and Sean — more often than not break down into two camps: the ones wearing the sort of business suit that would be perfectly at home in the C-suite of a Fortune 500, and then those who rock polos-and-khakis. (I should note that they wear their formal uniforms when required.)
Having existed in both camps myself, I know which end of the spectrum I’d prefer; besides, it has always seemed silly to me that an experienced detective would have to wear something needing dry cleaning to a crime scene. I mean, can you imagine the bills Sean or Vas might have wracked up? That, and I could never write in good conscience a scene where they get blood on their good suit. For both of these characters, wearing something a little bit more casual suits their personalities (pun intended). In Vasily’s case, it has an extra dimension as he intentionally wears polos that showcase his physique; for Sean, it’s just far simpler to toss on something that doesn’t require ironing — something I can completely relate to myself.
It occurred to me while I was writing Mirage that Alex seems to prefer suits for some reason; while we often see him in his off-duty compression muscle t-shirt and microfiber shorts combo, my notes indicate that he takes his job as a Career Counselor seriously enough to model the proper business formal attire to the students he’s working with. This aspect of his personality comes directly from a dear friend of many years, one who continues to pour every ounce of his compassion and expertise into his daily interactions with students. Alex’s penchant for business formal also seem to be his way (or mine, as the author) for compensating for the fact that Vas seems to find excuses to work his cases in his fresh-from-the-pool workout gear.
As Alejandro seems to have a far more refined sense of fashion than his fiancé, I suspect there might be some in-depth conversations in the future about the contents of their master bedroom closet…