Seated to my left in the photograph above is Richard Lapidus, author of "The Legend of Russian Bill" and other works.
Saturday, May 17, 2025
Getting out and about
Seated to my left in the photograph above is Richard Lapidus, author of "The Legend of Russian Bill" and other works.
Thursday, May 8, 2025
Review: The Gilded Age
I should have known the programs were joined at the hip. When I began watching The Gilded Age last month, I noticed that the television series, airing on (HBO) Max, looked and felt like Downton Abbey.
It had strikingly similar trappings, themes, and characters, the kind that make many historical series so enjoyable. The reason soon became obvious. The two productions evolved from the same source. Julian Fellowes, the man who gave us Downton Abbey, also created and wrote The Gilded Age, a period drama set in 1880s New York City.
Like Downton Abbey, set in Britain from 1912 to 1925, The Gilded Age revolves around aristocratic families, their servants, and the poor souls who cross their paths. It gives us a glorious glimpse at excess.
Like its predecessor, The Gilded Age features witty widows. Viewers who liked Maggie Smith's Violet Crawley will love Christine Baranski's Agnes van Rhijn. Agnes, like Violet, clings to the old order like some might cling to the side of a sinking ship. She deplores change and often expresses her dismay to younger sister Ada (Cynthia Nixon), who, like Isobel Crawley in Downton, serves as a nicer, more grounded foil.
Then there are the neighbors. If Agnes and Ada represent Old New York, George and Bertha Russell represent the new. The robber baron and his wife, played by Morgan Spector and Carrie Coon, disrupt Manhattan like bulls in a china shop. Ruthless, ambitious, and occasionally charming, both muscle their way into polite society.
Several secondary characters add spice to the mix. They include Marian Brook, Agnes and Ada's lovely niece; Oscar van Rhijn, Agnes' irresponsible son; Peggy Scott, an African American writer who befriends the family; and Larry and Gladys Russell — pleasant, restless siblings who strive to break free of their domineering parents.
As in Downton Abbey, the servants offer their own compelling stories. Led by Mr. Bannister and Mr. Church, the butlers of the rival Van Rhijn and Russell households, they remind us that the Gilded Age was not so gilded for those who served the ultra rich. Individually and collectively, they make up a diverse social underclass that literally lives, eats, and breathes in the basements of their respective mansions.
As I binged the first seventeen episodes of The Gilded Age, I was reminded of how much wealth, social rank, and even luck determined one's prospects in the 1800s. Marian, Larry, Gladys, and especially Peggy run into one obstacle after another as their try to find their places beside Caroline Astor, Thomas Edison, Booker T. Washington, and Oscar Wilde, a few of the many notables portrayed in the series.
Like Jack Trotter, the Van Rhijn footman who invents (and patents) a reliable alarm clock in his free time, the young people in The Gilded Age continually search for ways to better their lives in a difficult era.
I would recommend The Gilded Age not only to fans of Downton Abbey but also to viewers who like this fascinating period of American history. Season 3 begins on HBO and Max on June 22. Rating: 5/5.
It had strikingly similar trappings, themes, and characters, the kind that make many historical series so enjoyable. The reason soon became obvious. The two productions evolved from the same source. Julian Fellowes, the man who gave us Downton Abbey, also created and wrote The Gilded Age, a period drama set in 1880s New York City.
Like Downton Abbey, set in Britain from 1912 to 1925, The Gilded Age revolves around aristocratic families, their servants, and the poor souls who cross their paths. It gives us a glorious glimpse at excess.
Like its predecessor, The Gilded Age features witty widows. Viewers who liked Maggie Smith's Violet Crawley will love Christine Baranski's Agnes van Rhijn. Agnes, like Violet, clings to the old order like some might cling to the side of a sinking ship. She deplores change and often expresses her dismay to younger sister Ada (Cynthia Nixon), who, like Isobel Crawley in Downton, serves as a nicer, more grounded foil.
Then there are the neighbors. If Agnes and Ada represent Old New York, George and Bertha Russell represent the new. The robber baron and his wife, played by Morgan Spector and Carrie Coon, disrupt Manhattan like bulls in a china shop. Ruthless, ambitious, and occasionally charming, both muscle their way into polite society.
Several secondary characters add spice to the mix. They include Marian Brook, Agnes and Ada's lovely niece; Oscar van Rhijn, Agnes' irresponsible son; Peggy Scott, an African American writer who befriends the family; and Larry and Gladys Russell — pleasant, restless siblings who strive to break free of their domineering parents.
As in Downton Abbey, the servants offer their own compelling stories. Led by Mr. Bannister and Mr. Church, the butlers of the rival Van Rhijn and Russell households, they remind us that the Gilded Age was not so gilded for those who served the ultra rich. Individually and collectively, they make up a diverse social underclass that literally lives, eats, and breathes in the basements of their respective mansions.
As I binged the first seventeen episodes of The Gilded Age, I was reminded of how much wealth, social rank, and even luck determined one's prospects in the 1800s. Marian, Larry, Gladys, and especially Peggy run into one obstacle after another as their try to find their places beside Caroline Astor, Thomas Edison, Booker T. Washington, and Oscar Wilde, a few of the many notables portrayed in the series.
Like Jack Trotter, the Van Rhijn footman who invents (and patents) a reliable alarm clock in his free time, the young people in The Gilded Age continually search for ways to better their lives in a difficult era.
I would recommend The Gilded Age not only to fans of Downton Abbey but also to viewers who like this fascinating period of American history. Season 3 begins on HBO and Max on June 22. Rating: 5/5.
Thursday, May 1, 2025
Putting a name on a novel
When producing a new book, I usually pick a title early in the process. I knew what I was going to call The Mine, The Journey, The Fountain, The Patriots, and other novels long before I started writing them.
With other books, such as Indiana Belle and Sea Spray, I did not settle on a title until I finished the second draft. In every instance, I picked a two- or three-word term that best captured the spirit of the work.
Most of the titles tend to fall into familiar categories.
In The Mine, The Mirror, and The Fountain, I revealed the nature of their time portals. In The Show, The Memory Tree, Indian Paintbrush, and Sea Spray, I embraced important symbols. I hinted at natural disasters to come in The Fire, September Sky, and River Rising.
In Hannah's Moon, Caitlin's Song, and Annie's Apple, I highlighted the names of key female characters. In Indiana Belle and The Patriots, I told readers something about the protagonists. In The Journey and The Winding Road, I announced the stories' uncertain paths.
In Mercer Street, Camp Lake, The Fair, The Refuge, Crown City, and Annie's Apple, I touted the novels' primary settings with virtues and nicknames. The titles refer to Princeton (New Jersey), Maine, Chicago, Hawaii, Coronado (California), and New York City, respectively.
Though I strive to be as original as possible, I do not consider other authors' works when deciding on a title. I go with my best judgment, often with the input of others. I view book titles like many parents view baby names. Even if someone else has an Ethan or an Emma, they do not have my Ethan or Emma. Each work is something unique.
I do consider cover images when considering titles, because I know the two go hand-in-hand. Some titles lend themselves to straightforward covers. The Mirror, The Memory Tree, Indian Paintbrush, and The Fountain have a mirror, a tree, a flower, and a fountain on their fronts. Other works, like The Journey, River Rising, The Lane Betrayal, and Duties and Dreams, required more abstract presentations.
The title words can always be found in text of my books — in some cases many times. In The Fountain, The Fire, and The Mirror, the title is referenced more than forty times. In Caitlin's Song, The Lane Betrayal, and Duties and Dreams, it is mentioned only once.
Though I have not picked a title for my next book, I have one in mind. If I go with the idea, it will be because it nicely brings a family saga to an end. I hope to start the book, the third in the Stone Shed series, in August, after a long break and some traveling around the country.
With other books, such as Indiana Belle and Sea Spray, I did not settle on a title until I finished the second draft. In every instance, I picked a two- or three-word term that best captured the spirit of the work.
Most of the titles tend to fall into familiar categories.
In The Mine, The Mirror, and The Fountain, I revealed the nature of their time portals. In The Show, The Memory Tree, Indian Paintbrush, and Sea Spray, I embraced important symbols. I hinted at natural disasters to come in The Fire, September Sky, and River Rising.
In Hannah's Moon, Caitlin's Song, and Annie's Apple, I highlighted the names of key female characters. In Indiana Belle and The Patriots, I told readers something about the protagonists. In The Journey and The Winding Road, I announced the stories' uncertain paths.
In Mercer Street, Camp Lake, The Fair, The Refuge, Crown City, and Annie's Apple, I touted the novels' primary settings with virtues and nicknames. The titles refer to Princeton (New Jersey), Maine, Chicago, Hawaii, Coronado (California), and New York City, respectively.
Though I strive to be as original as possible, I do not consider other authors' works when deciding on a title. I go with my best judgment, often with the input of others. I view book titles like many parents view baby names. Even if someone else has an Ethan or an Emma, they do not have my Ethan or Emma. Each work is something unique.
I do consider cover images when considering titles, because I know the two go hand-in-hand. Some titles lend themselves to straightforward covers. The Mirror, The Memory Tree, Indian Paintbrush, and The Fountain have a mirror, a tree, a flower, and a fountain on their fronts. Other works, like The Journey, River Rising, The Lane Betrayal, and Duties and Dreams, required more abstract presentations.
The title words can always be found in text of my books — in some cases many times. In The Fountain, The Fire, and The Mirror, the title is referenced more than forty times. In Caitlin's Song, The Lane Betrayal, and Duties and Dreams, it is mentioned only once.
Though I have not picked a title for my next book, I have one in mind. If I go with the idea, it will be because it nicely brings a family saga to an end. I hope to start the book, the third in the Stone Shed series, in August, after a long break and some traveling around the country.
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