Fabled editor Maxwell Perkins (and isn't it wonderful that a person can become famous just for doing his job?) was informed by one of his authors that she would like to visit Paris to research a scene in her novel, and he asked her not to go, to stay home and use her imagination. I've often wondered about that. I find research into locales valuable not so much to provide authenticity but rather to make me comfortable when I place a scene in that locale. I remember writing about Cairo, which I had never visited but had read a hundred books about, including the novels of the great Naguib Mahfouz. I knew about the streets and the crowds and the odors in Old Cairo; but it wasn't until I found an Egyptian man and wife and sat down at lunch with them and talked about Cairo that I felt comfortable writing about it. I discovered that the man and his wife were no different from me, that Cairenes were not aliens in a strange place but were as familiar to me as folks strolling in Times Square. I'll go to Paris and soak up atmosphere but only to make myself comfortable when I write about it, not to bring back the detritus of sightseeing.