When I set out to create the character of Parker Hanson, the hero of my private investigator mystery series, I didn’t intend for him to become my alter ego.

But “write what you know,” the experts say. So that’s what I did. 

As a result, whether consciously or not, I’ve imbued Parker with many of the same interests, experiences, and personality traits that I possess.

That’s not to say he’s a stand-in for me. Just that I see a lot of myself in him.

For instance, we’re both former journalists. We share a taste in music from the 1980s and 90s. We’re both fans of Boston sports and old movies, like Casablanca and screwball comedies starring Cary Grant and Irene Dunn.

We’ve both had major heart surgery, too. 

I wanted to make Parker an “everyman”-type hero with some vulnerabilities that readers could relate to. What’s more physically vulnerable than recovering from a triple bypass operation? 

Fortunately—or maybe I should say unfortunately?—I was able to draw on my own experience in adding this bit of characterization as well.

There’s one more important similarity. In looking for a character flaw for Parker to wrestle with, I’ve once again taken inspiration from my own life.

After years of toiling away on minor cases, Parker suddenly finds himself in the big leagues in book 1 of the series, Swinging for Power, when he suspects the governor of New Hampshire might be involved in a double homicide. To succeed, he has to overcome not just powerful and well-connected adversaries but also his own self-doubt as someone who comes from a working-class family.

This class divide, and how it can erode your self-confidence when you’re on the poorer end of the scale, is something I’ve experienced firsthand. When I went to college at an Ivy League university, I often felt like I didn’t measure up, simply because I wasn’t from the right social class.

My own insecurities are evident in Parker’s biggest character flaws, but what about his strengths? I’d like to think that some of his best traits mirror my own as well—though in a much more amplified form, like he’s a better version of me.

Although morally ambiguous antiheroes can be fun to read and write about, I knew in creating Parker that I wanted a protagonist with an uncompromising sense of decency. Parker burns with a desire to make the world a better place. He can’t stand the thought of injustice, and it makes him crazy to think he can’t do anything to change it.

Aside from having a strong sense of morality, he’s also generous. In book 2, Cross Checking, when he receives a windfall for his services, he invests the money to help those less fortunate who need his assistance.

Perhaps most importantly, he’s brave in the face of danger. Although he doesn’t own a gun and is by no means physically imposing, he doesn’t hesitate in standing up to powerful enemies in pursuing justice … or in the case of book 2, to prevent a massive tragedy from occurring.

Would I be able to summon the same courage amid similar circumstances? I hope so. Then again, that’s why we have fiction—so we can live vicariously through the story’s characters.

In making Parker an ordinary person who rises to the occasion under extraordinary circumstances, I had a very specific goal in mind. I wanted to show readers that we all have the power to be brave and stand up to evil and injustice when we see it.

It’s a message we need as much today as at any point in our nation’s history. (And it’s a message I wish our representatives in Congress would take to heart. But that’s a topic for another day…)