How not to do research

I hope not all authors are like this, but I have the sneaking suspicion that it’s a tendency at least I share:

On Saturday it was the Cambridge day of dance.  The Riot had been invited but we couldn’t field enough members to make a side, so I went in support of my husband’s side, the Coton morris men.  At the first dance spot a lady fell into conversation with me – which is normal enough, cos that’s partly what it’s all about (connecting people, getting them to talk and laugh together).  She explained that she was a classically trained dancer who was “respectfully and non-judgmentally” writing a book about dance.  So far so good – I’m all in favour of people writing books, as you know.

Then she said “which village are you from?  Tell me about your tradition.”  I was a bit non-plussed by the village thing, because it’s been almost a century since all the members of most morris sides all came from the same village, and I didn’t initially twig that that was what she was assuming.  I said, “well, these are the Coton morris men and they dance in the Cotswold style.”

At which she looked at me as though she’d stopped believing a word I said, and (in a kind of ‘stop messing me about’ voice) she said “Coton isn’t in the Cotswolds.”

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