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Whenever I talk about Something Wicked being set at a Scottish highland festival, I'm often surprised at how many people don't know such things exist. I grew up with one held annually in nearby Gatlinburg, Tennessee, so I was used to seeing pictures of log-tossing, kilt-wearing Scotsmen once a year on the evening news.

I attended three highland festivals during the writing of Something Wicked, each time walking around as though viewing the games through the eyes of my snarky, sarcastic teenage detective Horatio Wilkes. Scottish highland festivals celebrate the culture and heritage of Scots-Irish immigrants, and I found lots of great material among the festival-goers who wore kilts, played bagpipes, danced flings, and ate traditional Scottish fare like meat bridies. (And, yes, haggis.)

As a part of my research, I wanted to see if Horatio had any Scottish blood in him--so I went to one of the many genealogy tents that stand ready to find even the most tenuous connection to your name in their books of clans and septs. "Your name?" the woman behind the desk said.