By SUE COLETTA
While conducting research for my WIP, I stumbled across a law that blew my mind. As many of you know, I’m a huge animal lover. I would no more harm an animal than a member of my family. However, according to this statute, I may have inadvertently broken the law. And you might be guilty, too!
Years ago, I developed a fascination with eagles while writing Wings of Mayhem. When I wrote Blessed Mayhem, I became enamored with crows and ravens, as well. For those who aren’t familiar with Blessed Mayhem, Mr. Mayhem (the antagonist) has three pet crows. So, as the author, I had to know as much about crows as he did to portray him in a realistic manner. For months I studied their mannerisms, favorite foods, habitat, reproductive life, rituals, complex communication skills, body language, etc. And later, befriended a mating couple in my yard. You might remember my post about wildlife.
Some Native Americans believe that when a feather drops from the sky it carries the power of the bird, that crows live in two parallel universes, with one talon in a spiritual realm and one in the physical world, that they’re fore-tellers of change and messengers of the spirit world. When a crow visits, s/he expects to find our authentic self.
In writing, our character’s “authentic self” or “true character” is the 3rd Dimension of Character, the person only those closest to him truly know. The antagonist, especially a killer, will want to portray a false facade in public (1st Dimension of Character) to evade detection.
For my Mayhem Series, I take note of how my body reacts in the presence of crows, and then I transfer that emotion to the page to show Mr. Mayhem’s soft side.
When my beloved murder of nine glides into the yard — awe-inspiring wings in perfect harmony with members of their tribe — my breath quickens, the world falls away.
As my stiff shoulders ease, I marvel at these incredible birds. I consider it an honor that they’ve let me share in the joyfulness of newborn chicks and the devastation of loss. I’ve reveled in their teachings of how to fly without smashing into a sibling’s wings, the intricacies of how best to crack peanut shells, and the unwavering belief that leftover French fries taste amazing first thing in the morning.
It’s probably no surprise then that when Poe leaves me a feather, I treasure her generous gift. But now, darn it, I found that pesky law …
Authorities created the North American Migratory Bird Treaty Act in 1918 when folks killed too many birds for the sole purpose of adorning their hats with feathered bling. It’s a broad-brush law intended to protect birds. Which is fabulous. The downside is, the law doesn’t recognize the difference between plucked feathers, shed feathers, or bird pieces. None of it is allowed in our possession. The Act lists over 800 birds. Crow feathers top that list, along with eagles, owls, ravens, hawks, and even blue jays.
In order to keep a feather collection, we need to visit our local Fish & Game headquarters and pull a permit. Maybe one of our TKZ legal minds could weigh in on any stipulations of obtaining said permit? I can’t bear to toss the feathers back in the yard, as the law requires. Poe and Edgar might consider it a slap across the beak.
Did you know it was illegal to pick up a feather? According to this law, not only are we required to figure out the exact species of bird who dropped the feather, but we need to cross-check the list to see if the feather is protected under federal law. The harmless act of collecting a feather from your yard could wind up costing you a hefty fine and even a misdemeanor conviction!
This discovery sent shock waves through my writer brain. Perhaps I could use this law in my WIP. We’re always searching for an interesting new angle, aren’t we?
Some of the ways I considered using this law are …
- What if the detective uses the Migration Bird Act as “probable cause” to obtain a search warrant?
- What if the confiscated feathers linked a suspect to the victim?
- What if the detective witnesses a strange man pocketing a protected feather off the beach (yes, sea gulls are also on that watch-list) and he follows him to a killing lair?
None of those worked for my story, though. Too easy. I may have to abandon the idea.
How might you use the Migration Bird Act to heat up the investigation? Were you aware of this law?
“Sue Coletta is on a path. She earned her ticket into the crowded arena of dark thriller contenders with her previous novel (“Marred”), and in “Wings of Mayhem” she announces her arrival with the wail of approaching sirens and the quiet horror of a blade swinging at your throat in the dark. Don’t miss this one. A star is born.” ~ Larry Brooks
Look inside Wings of Mayhem HERE.