Writers are often told to “write what you know.”
For a long time, I interpreted that as writing what was familiar—places I’d lived, professions I understood, people I’d encountered.
But sometimes, what you know isn’t a place.
Sometimes it’s a moment.
Sometimes it’s a feeling.
And sometimes, it’s a journey that refuses to let go of you.
That’s exactly what happened with Frank Abroad.
The Seed of the Story
Back in 2018, my family and I traveled to Italy with the St. Mary’s of the Lake choir from Skaneateles, New York. We sang in churches that have stood for centuries. We walked streets where history is layered in stone. We shared meals, laughter, and moments that still feel vivid today.
Like most writers, I took notes. Not formal, polished notes—just observations, phrases, snippets of dialogue, details I didn’t want to forget.
At the time, I didn’t know those notes would become a novel.
But they did.
Lesson #1: Capture the Details While They’re Fresh
If you take nothing else from this post, take this:
Write things down while you’re living them.
Memory fades. But sensory detail—if you capture it—can bring a story to life years later.
For Frank Abroad, those notes included:
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The echo of voices in ancient cathedrals
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The rhythm of footsteps on cobblestone streets
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The smell of espresso in the early morning
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The way light hits the canals in Venice at dusk
When I sat down to write the book, those details were gold. They allowed me to recreate not just the places—but the feeling of being there.
Lesson #2: Change the Facts, Keep the Truth
Here’s the key to using real life in fiction:
You are not writing a documentary.
You’re writing a story.
That means:
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Real people become fictional characters
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Real events are reshaped to serve the plot
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Timelines shift
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Outcomes change
But what you keep—the most important thing—is the emotional truth.
In Frank Abroad, some locations and personalities were inspired by the people I traveled with. But the characters and events in the book are entirely fictional. The heart of the experience, however—the camaraderie, the music, the sense of discovery—that’s all real.
Lesson #3: Let Setting Create Conflict
One of the most powerful writing tools you have is displacement—taking your character out of their element.
Frank Rozzani is a detective who relies on instinct, experience, and control.
Put him in Italy:
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He doesn’t speak the language fluently
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He doesn’t know the social cues
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He doesn’t understand the terrain
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He’s forced to rely on others
That creates natural tension.
As writers, we sometimes protect our characters by keeping them in familiar environments. But when you take them somewhere new—geographically, emotionally, or morally—you create opportunities for growth, mistakes, and drama.
Lesson #4: Blend Personal Experience with Genre Expectations
Even though Frank Abroad is inspired by real travel, it’s still a mystery/thriller.
That means it still needs:
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Suspense
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Stakes
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Pacing
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Twists
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Consequences
Your personal experiences should enhance your story—not replace the structure your genre demands.
In this case, the beauty of Italy becomes a contrast to the darker elements of the plot. The serene setting makes the danger feel even more unsettling.
Lesson #5: Don’t Be Afraid to Mine Your Own Life
Many writers hesitate to draw from their own lives. They worry it’s too personal, too small, or not “interesting enough.”
Here’s the truth:
Your experiences are your most unique creative asset.
No one else has lived your life. No one else has seen the world through your eyes.
In Frank Abroad, my memories of traveling with my family—especially seeing my daughter sing in historic spaces—gave the story an emotional layer that I couldn’t have fabricated any other way.
Readers can feel authenticity. They may not know exactly why a scene resonates, but they’ll feel it.
Bringing It All Together
All of these elements—real locations, emotional truth, character displacement, sensory detail—came together in Frank Abroad.
The result is a story that is:
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grounded in real experience
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shaped by fictional stakes
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and driven by the kind of tension that comes from placing a character in unfamiliar territory
Final Thought for Writers
The next story you write might not come from an outline.
It might come from:
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a trip you took
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a conversation you had
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a place that stayed with you
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or a moment you can’t forget
Pay attention to those moments.
Write them down.
And when the time comes, don’t be afraid to transform them into something new.
You may find, as I did with Frank Abroad, that your real-life experiences are the perfect foundation for your next great story.
If you’ve read Frank Abroad, I hope you recognize some of those real-world textures woven into the fiction.
And if you’re a writer, I hope this encourages you to look at your own experiences in a new way.
There’s a story there.
You just have to write it.
— Don Massenzio
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