There’s something about small towns that stays with you — or maybe refuses to let you go. Willow Creek, the setting of Song of Shadows , isn’t a real place on the map — but in many ways, it feels more real than the towns I’ve lived in. It came to life from a single question: What if a town could remember everything — and forgive nothing? I imagined a place where rust creeps over every signpost, where old men sit on the same benches watching everyone who returns, and where secrets grow deeper than tree roots. I chose Maine for its fog, its rivers, its silence. It felt like the kind of place where guilt lingers in the air like woodsmoke — slow, dense, and inescapable. Willow Creek is not just a backdrop. It’s a character. A witness. And sometimes, a judge. The town knows who you were, what you did, and what you ran from. That’s why when Ben Ellit returns, the streets don’t greet him — they glare. The town is layered: with history, decay, and memory. I built it from fragments —...
