The anatomy of a town: dreaming up characters and shaping a plot were relatively easy, but conjuring up a whole town? That took thought.

Once I determined that Lemon City (Strives Row/One World, August 2004) would be a humorous murder mystery, and the story would revolve around the members of the Dunlap family; the question that remained was, where would the story take place? What would my characters environment be? How would this community shape their lives? That was the beginning of my drawing the plans for the blueprint to build Lemon City. Little did I know that I would spend as much time developing this town as I devoted to my characters.

When I asked myself these questions, images of Harlem's Hotel Theresa and Carter Savings Bank immediately came to mind, along with those of other black businesses that no longer exist. I saw Lou Borders Resort in the Catskills with its leftover ghosts r and neglected grounds, remnants of a once vibrant, lively period when African Americans brought bellyaching laughter to the property as often as they booked their annual reservations. Many of these black businesses that were successful under segregation because black people had no op I thought to revive the kind of community that African Americans once had; one that was successful and prosperous, a fictitious place I came to call Lemon City.

Once I decided Lemon City would be an all-black town, the next step was to determine its geographic location. When I was nine years old, my dad took us on a family trip to Lynchburg, Virginia, to visit my Aunt Katie. Part of the trip included sightseeing along Skyline Drive. I remember riding in the back seat of our gold, 1964 two-door Ford Galaxy, cowering at the sight of the extraordinary Blue Ridge Mountains that appeared to be like giant walls holding up the sky. I recall driving through wide tunnels carved through rock that seemed as if only Gods hand was strong enough to drill through.

While the mountain scenery intimidated me like a bully standing its ground, positioning its power, I also recognized its amazing beauty. Lemon City, I decided, would be nearly tucked away at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was an environment that could contain people, shelter and protect them from outside forces. At the same time, the rocky range was aesthetically pleasing enough to appeal to people and encourage them to stay. It was perfect. The more I thought about this naturally gated community, the more I wanted to hammer out the details. Now that I had just broken ground, the next step for me was building the foundation.

Lemon-Skinned Legacy

I founded Lemon City in 1865 after the Emancipation Proclamation. I made its original inhabitants the beneficiaries of "the forty acres and a mule" promise, which awarded them free land in Virginia, and I made them descendants of white plantation owners, African Americans and Powhatan Indians. In fact, the original inhabitants were such a mixture of these three races that I decided these first pioneers should name the town after the color of their skin.

I established five leaders as the Founding Fathers and assigned them specific areas of expertise; skills and knowledge they would acquire and pass down through generations of their families to support the community. For example, Benjamin T. Washington was committed to the pulpit and to praying with people full-time, making him a natural choice to head up the church. All his descendants would create a lineage and careers in church-related fields. Shadrach Mosby Dunlap had an affection for government and strong morals. Consequently, all his knowledge was handed down through the generations, creating jobs in the law and political arenas. Solomon Butler had been a slave at the home of a doctor and had paid close attention to healing practices and surgical procedures, which earned him the position to head-up the town's medical areas. As the result, his family became the recipients of this knowledge and established themselves in health occupations over the years.

So I now had my prosperous, all-black town. A place that was economically viable, where there was no unemployment, no illiteracy or housing issues and above all, no racism. But more than that, the town's ancestry has made its residents self-sufficient and proud.

After location and history, I addressed the town's infrastructure, or what it was that sustained Lemon City and made it come to life. What was responsible for maintaining its longevity? What held the culture intact and made it tick? Those questions inspired me to create the heart of Lemon City.

Thinking about religious and nonsecular groups and communities in general that seem to have it all together and move as one toward shared goals, I explored what these various people have in common that makes them operate as a group. The answer I gave myself was that these people adhere to rules--written or unwritten--guidelines or ideologies that everyone seems to respect; moral objectives that everyone strives to meet.

I've often thought about what the world would be like if we all abided by the Ten Commandments--ten simple rules for everyday living. But that's a whole other story. In keeping with the spirit of Lemon City, however, I invented rules for the town that were humorous, rules that I felt were an extension of the Ten Commandments, a spin-off, if you will, that I considered to be the blood that pumps through the veins of the Lemonites.

The Rules:

1. Never marry an outsider. If you do, the boll weevil will bite you back.

2. If you can't be honest, you might as well be dead.

3. Airing your dirty laundry out in the street will smell up the neighborhood.

4. Don't let the mojo lady know you got troubles. If you do, she'll give you more.

5. Cheating makes you lower than a dog scratching up a worm in the dirt.

6. What goes around will always come back around and hit you in the head.

7. Help those in need and never judge them by the holes in their socks.

8. Do business at home first, then with outsiders you can invite into your home as a last resort.

9. Mind your own business personally and professionally.

10. Support the community in every way possible and imaginable.

Before I knew it, I was spending as much time personifying this town as I was creating each member of the Dunlap family. Lemon City was quickly becoming another character. What I had given the town was a living, breathing pulse that would be transferred from one generation to the next.

Putting It on the Map

Many people have asked if Lemon City is a real place. And it always makes me smile, knowing that I've done a good job creating a town that has also become real in the mind of others.

Even before I started writing my novel, I drew a map of where my main characters lived and named the streets. In my thoughts, I have walked down the yellow, dusty dirt roads of Lemon City; smelled the richness of the earth; appreciated the azaleas and felt the breeze brush by me on its way to slip through the dogwood trees. In my imagination, I have driven down Rte. 23, followed the double white line and not seen another car on the road, only a rabbit taking its chances through my rearview mirror. I have flown over Lemon City and admired the patchwork quilt colors in spring and summer. I lived through the bone chilling winters and seen the mountains change through the seasons.

Every day, before and after work, I couldn't wait to get back to Lemon City. When I sat down to write, it had become a place that I regularly liked to visit. In my mind, Lemon City feels like home. Having said that, I want to thank my dad, who recently passed away, for giving me the experience of the Blue Ridge Mountains at such an early and impressionable age. For without him, I would not have had my second memory of power and beauty that would provide a place to put my characters.

Elaine Meryl Brown is vice president, Special Markets, Creative Services at HBO. She is an Emmy Award-winning writer, and is currently working on the sequel to Lemon City, to be published by Random House in 2006.