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.
Thursday, May 8, 2025
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.
Thursday, April 17, 2025
Building another bridge
The middle book in a series almost always gets lost in the shuffle. It is like the sixth floor of a ten-story building or the third leg in a mile relay. It is the Jan Brady of literature. When done right, though, it can do more than continue a series. It can serve as a vital bridge. It can connect elements of a saga in ways the first and last books cannot.
The Winding Road is my latest bridge. Set in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut from 1777 to 1779, it serves as the centerpiece of a family saga that began with The Patriots and will end with the third book in the Stone Shed trilogy.
In the novel, Noah and Jake Maclean, time travelers from 2024, settle in the 1770s. The brothers commit to a time they have called home for sixteen months. They chart new courses during the thick of the American Revolution.
Noah, now 23, joins the cause. Driven by patriotism and a sense of duty, he enlists in the Continental Army as it retreats to Valley Forge. He brings modern weapons, medicines, and knowledge of the future. He takes tools he hopes will help him survive the rebellion and return to fiancée Abigail Ward, the lovely older daughter of Samuel Ward, a furniture maker who gave the brothers jobs and a home.
Jake, 16, stays behind. He helps Sam and his wife, Elizabeth, resettle in rural Gulph Mills after the British seize Philadelphia and drive patriots from their homes. As he does, he strengthens his relationship with Rachel Ward, Sam and Elizabeth's mischievous younger daughter.
Meanwhile, Douglas and Donna Maclean clean up a mess in 2024. The retirees try to convince police, reporters, and relatives that Noah and Jake vanished on a hike in Colorado. Unwilling to reveal their nephews' whereabouts or the existence of the time portal that sent them to the past, they carry out a ruse. They attempt to manage a crisis in the present while keeping track of the boys through the lens of history.
As in The Patriots, readers will get their fill of history. Noah will befriend George Washington, fight in the Battle of Monmouth, and work with Caleb Brewster, a member of the Culper spy ring. Jake and Rachel will have a run-in with Benedict Arnold and Peggy Shippen.
New figures will enter the series, including British General Henry Clinton; Jasper Jennings, an American cavalry officer; and British tracker Malachi Maine, a villain worthy of Silas Bain and Hans Weber, the bad boys of the Time Box and Second Chance series. Along with characters from the first book, they will propel a story that chronicles the deceptively quiet middle years of the American Revolution.
At 110 chapters and 140,600 words, The Winding Road is my longest book by chapters and second-longest by words, trailing only The Patriots. The Kindle edition goes on sale today at Amazon.com and its international marketplaces. I hope to publish the paperback in May.
In the novel, Noah and Jake Maclean, time travelers from 2024, settle in the 1770s. The brothers commit to a time they have called home for sixteen months. They chart new courses during the thick of the American Revolution.
Noah, now 23, joins the cause. Driven by patriotism and a sense of duty, he enlists in the Continental Army as it retreats to Valley Forge. He brings modern weapons, medicines, and knowledge of the future. He takes tools he hopes will help him survive the rebellion and return to fiancée Abigail Ward, the lovely older daughter of Samuel Ward, a furniture maker who gave the brothers jobs and a home.
Jake, 16, stays behind. He helps Sam and his wife, Elizabeth, resettle in rural Gulph Mills after the British seize Philadelphia and drive patriots from their homes. As he does, he strengthens his relationship with Rachel Ward, Sam and Elizabeth's mischievous younger daughter.
Meanwhile, Douglas and Donna Maclean clean up a mess in 2024. The retirees try to convince police, reporters, and relatives that Noah and Jake vanished on a hike in Colorado. Unwilling to reveal their nephews' whereabouts or the existence of the time portal that sent them to the past, they carry out a ruse. They attempt to manage a crisis in the present while keeping track of the boys through the lens of history.
As in The Patriots, readers will get their fill of history. Noah will befriend George Washington, fight in the Battle of Monmouth, and work with Caleb Brewster, a member of the Culper spy ring. Jake and Rachel will have a run-in with Benedict Arnold and Peggy Shippen.
New figures will enter the series, including British General Henry Clinton; Jasper Jennings, an American cavalry officer; and British tracker Malachi Maine, a villain worthy of Silas Bain and Hans Weber, the bad boys of the Time Box and Second Chance series. Along with characters from the first book, they will propel a story that chronicles the deceptively quiet middle years of the American Revolution.
At 110 chapters and 140,600 words, The Winding Road is my longest book by chapters and second-longest by words, trailing only The Patriots. The Kindle edition goes on sale today at Amazon.com and its international marketplaces. I hope to publish the paperback in May.
Tuesday, April 1, 2025
Drafting the drafts
As I wrote here in February 2015, I'm a plotter, not a pantser. I plan every book — and every series — in great detail before writing a word. I cannot even fathom producing a novel "by the seat of my pants."
I am similarly meticulous with drafts. In each of my five drafts, I try to do different things. I attempt to build on what came before.
In the first, or original, draft, I tell the story. I throw everything and the kitchen sink into the manuscript, in case I forget to include something later. And I try to do it within ninety days. As Stephen King notes in his Top 20 rules for writers, an author should complete his first draft within three months lest it look a bit unfamiliar when he is done.
In the second draft, I mold the clay. I usually do this without the assistance of others because I want the first beta readers to get something resembling my best work. At this stage, I attempt to pull random thoughts together and clean up prose that is often rough and foreign. I try to make more than 100,000 words make sense.
I give the third draft to my editor and early beta readers, the ones with subject expertise in medicine, the military, horses, law enforcement, education, and even modern youth culture. I work closely with these folks and even outside sources to remedy my knowledge gaps and fix big problems, like plot holes, that might come back to bite me.
In the fourth draft, I clean up the prose, check facts, and correct inconsistencies not only within the novel but also within its series. If a character has blond hair and brown eyes in one book, she cannot have red hair and green eyes in another. I cannot count the times I have found discrepancies or even plot holes at the eleventh hour.
Most of my beta readers consider the fourth draft or the fifth. They catch the typos and missing words my bleary eyes miss and occasionally offer new and useful insights. They are the people who note the most inconspicuous flaws before the train leaves the station.
I am now several chapters into the fourth draft of The Winding Road, the middle book of the Stone Shed trilogy. I hope to publish the finished novel, which is weeks ahead of schedule, by the end of April.
I am similarly meticulous with drafts. In each of my five drafts, I try to do different things. I attempt to build on what came before.
In the first, or original, draft, I tell the story. I throw everything and the kitchen sink into the manuscript, in case I forget to include something later. And I try to do it within ninety days. As Stephen King notes in his Top 20 rules for writers, an author should complete his first draft within three months lest it look a bit unfamiliar when he is done.
In the second draft, I mold the clay. I usually do this without the assistance of others because I want the first beta readers to get something resembling my best work. At this stage, I attempt to pull random thoughts together and clean up prose that is often rough and foreign. I try to make more than 100,000 words make sense.
I give the third draft to my editor and early beta readers, the ones with subject expertise in medicine, the military, horses, law enforcement, education, and even modern youth culture. I work closely with these folks and even outside sources to remedy my knowledge gaps and fix big problems, like plot holes, that might come back to bite me.
In the fourth draft, I clean up the prose, check facts, and correct inconsistencies not only within the novel but also within its series. If a character has blond hair and brown eyes in one book, she cannot have red hair and green eyes in another. I cannot count the times I have found discrepancies or even plot holes at the eleventh hour.
Most of my beta readers consider the fourth draft or the fifth. They catch the typos and missing words my bleary eyes miss and occasionally offer new and useful insights. They are the people who note the most inconspicuous flaws before the train leaves the station.
I am now several chapters into the fourth draft of The Winding Road, the middle book of the Stone Shed trilogy. I hope to publish the finished novel, which is weeks ahead of schedule, by the end of April.
Sunday, March 2, 2025
George Washington slept here
The saying 'George Washington slept here' has long morphed into a cliché. Tourism officials and realtors use it to lure visitors to their sometimes out-of-the-way venues. Writers have both praised and lampooned it. Warner Brothers turned it into a comedy film in 1942.
I did something else. I followed the slogan to several online resources that explore the subject at length. Then I used a few of General Washington's favorite haunts in The Winding Road, my latest work in progress and the second book in the Stone Shed trilogy.
One of the most important was the Isaac Potts house, Washington's headquarters at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. Built in the 1750s, the three-story structure was a palace compared to the wooden huts that housed most of the Continental Army in the winter of 1778.
Another site, an overnighter, was Beers Tavern, the best place to eat, drink, and sleep in New Haven, Connecticut, in the 1770s. Washington stayed at the roadhouse on June 28, 1775, while traveling from Philadelphia to Boston. Two major characters in my book will stay there in October 1778. They will experience some of the magic Washington left behind for nearly ten years as he waged war on the British.
Philadelphia's City Tavern, where the general stretched his legs for several days in 1777, will again take a star turn. It was a significant venue in The Patriots, the first book in the Stone Shed series.
The Founding Father moved nearly 300 times between July 2, 1775, and December 4, 1783, when he bid farewell to his officers at the end of the war. He moved a lot because he had to. Unlike British generals William Howe and Henry Clinton, who turned Philadelphia and New York City into vacation rentals, he had to secure resources, maintain communications, and stay one step ahead of an enemy that wanted to put a noose around his neck. Like the people who signed the Declaration of Independence, the general was a wanted man.
Washington will play a small but important role in The Winding Road. Though he will mostly remain in the background, as a larger-than-life figure, he will on occasion inject himself into the affairs of Noah Maclean, his aide-de-camp and my novel's chief protagonist.
As readers follow Noah, they will also follow Washington, his staff, his army, and the places they called home between November 1777 and August 1779, The Winding Road's chronological bookends.
I know I followed him. When consulting Wikipedia's detailed, illustrated compendium of Washington's headquarters, I learned a lot about the general, his digs, and his interesting times. I used the comprehensive resource as a starting point, a springboard for further discovery.
As I noted here on Saturday, I have finished the first draft of The Winding Road. I hope to publish the completed novel by May 31.
Photos: Top: The Isaac Potts House, where George Washington lived at Valley Forge from December 19, 1777, to June 19, 1778. Bottom: City Tavern, part of Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia. Both images are courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
I did something else. I followed the slogan to several online resources that explore the subject at length. Then I used a few of General Washington's favorite haunts in The Winding Road, my latest work in progress and the second book in the Stone Shed trilogy.
Another site, an overnighter, was Beers Tavern, the best place to eat, drink, and sleep in New Haven, Connecticut, in the 1770s. Washington stayed at the roadhouse on June 28, 1775, while traveling from Philadelphia to Boston. Two major characters in my book will stay there in October 1778. They will experience some of the magic Washington left behind for nearly ten years as he waged war on the British.
The Founding Father moved nearly 300 times between July 2, 1775, and December 4, 1783, when he bid farewell to his officers at the end of the war. He moved a lot because he had to. Unlike British generals William Howe and Henry Clinton, who turned Philadelphia and New York City into vacation rentals, he had to secure resources, maintain communications, and stay one step ahead of an enemy that wanted to put a noose around his neck. Like the people who signed the Declaration of Independence, the general was a wanted man.
Washington will play a small but important role in The Winding Road. Though he will mostly remain in the background, as a larger-than-life figure, he will on occasion inject himself into the affairs of Noah Maclean, his aide-de-camp and my novel's chief protagonist.
As readers follow Noah, they will also follow Washington, his staff, his army, and the places they called home between November 1777 and August 1779, The Winding Road's chronological bookends.
I know I followed him. When consulting Wikipedia's detailed, illustrated compendium of Washington's headquarters, I learned a lot about the general, his digs, and his interesting times. I used the comprehensive resource as a starting point, a springboard for further discovery.
As I noted here on Saturday, I have finished the first draft of The Winding Road. I hope to publish the completed novel by May 31.
Photos: Top: The Isaac Potts House, where George Washington lived at Valley Forge from December 19, 1777, to June 19, 1778. Bottom: City Tavern, part of Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia. Both images are courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Saturday, March 1, 2025
Another day, another draft
Lao Tzu, a Chinese philosopher, once said, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." I can relate. One does not go far without taking a first step, whether walking around the neighborhood, as I do two to three times a day, or writing a gargantuan novel.
This week, I did a little of both. I finished my "workouts" and finished my book, at least the first draft. On Friday morning, I dotted the last 'I" on The Winding Road, my twenty-fifth novel and the second book in the Stone Shed trilogy, a Revolutionary War saga. At 110 chapters, it is my biggest work by chapters. At 142,000 words, it is my second-biggest by length. Either way, it is a monster I was all too happy to tame.
I will now revise the draft, edit it, and send it to others for their thoughtful consideration. I still hope to have the finished book out by May 31.
This week, I did a little of both. I finished my "workouts" and finished my book, at least the first draft. On Friday morning, I dotted the last 'I" on The Winding Road, my twenty-fifth novel and the second book in the Stone Shed trilogy, a Revolutionary War saga. At 110 chapters, it is my biggest work by chapters. At 142,000 words, it is my second-biggest by length. Either way, it is a monster I was all too happy to tame.
I will now revise the draft, edit it, and send it to others for their thoughtful consideration. I still hope to have the finished book out by May 31.
Friday, February 14, 2025
Saying goodbye to Dad
It was different this time. Instead of getting an early morning telephone call that took me by surprise, I got one I expected. I learned that my father had passed away after a long history of health struggles.
James Heldt, who died this week at age 93, had long battled mental and physical decline. He spent the last several years in assisted living and the last three without my mother, his loving wife of 70 years.
It was difficult watching him fail. When I last saw him, on January 17, he did not recognize me. Nor was he able to speak in sentences. He was not able to do much of anything in the twilight of his life.
That is not the man I will remember. I will remember instead the younger man, the father who supported a family, succeeded in business, and set a wonderful example for his four sons, two daughters, and ten grandchildren.
Born on the Nebraska plains at the start of the Great Depression, Dad learned responsibility, hard work, and patience at an early age. The youngest of six sons, he moved to Eastern Oregon as a boy and became active in his church, his rural community, and his high school, where he served a year as student body president.
After attending a year of college and marrying my mother, he started a family and a career in small business, mostly as the manager of Sherwin-Williams and Montgomery Ward stores in Oregon and Washington. He won numerous business awards, the respect of his colleagues, and the loyalty of countless customers.
He also invested time in his family. Though he did not have much time to give, he gave it generously. He attended the games, the church programs, and the school activities and crowed about his kids at every opportunity. He took pride in raising thoughtful human beings.
Though Dad was generally a serious man, he had a quirky side. He loved playing Santa Claus at Christmas, watching comedies on television, and showing off Pepper, his beloved Dachshund.
I will remember him for the little things, such as the times he taught me to drive, took me to pro sports events, secured my first job, and drove me to and from college. He beamed in 1985 when I graduated from the University of Oregon and did something he had wanted to do but could not because of family and economic circumstances.
Though I have many stories of Dad, one will always stand out. It will because of what happened and because of what did not.
In July 1976, we went fishing. We pursued salmon off Westport, Washington, with a dozen others from our church. No other family members attended. It was a father-and-ninth-grade-son sort of thing. Dad didn't make it an hour before giving up his early breakfast to the creatures of the sea. He didn't catch fish either, at least at first. Like most of the others on our small charter boat, he set his line at twenty yards, as the skipper had instructed, and waited patiently for a bite.
I didn't wait for a thing. Convinced that the fish, like all fish, congregated at the bottom, I dropped my line another ten yards. Never mind that we were 20 miles offshore. I dropped my line — right into a large school of salmon. Within minutes, I reeled in 38-, 33-, 31-, and 28-pound kings. The others on the boat soon did the same. They lowered their lines and drained the Pacific of tasty fish. Dad and I each caught four and gave our extras to others. We brought home 200 pounds of salmon. My biggest fish was the third largest caught off Westport that day and would have netted $750 had I invested a measly buck in a fishing derby.
Sadly, I don't have photographs of that day. I didn't take my Kodak, and my usually trusty Bell & Howell movie camera jammed. No others on the boat took pictures. One of the best moments of my adolescence went unrecorded. My "big fish" story exists only in memories.
I would give almost anything for snapshots of that trip. I would love to see the salmon and Dad's happy face as we weighed our catch.
But I don't need the photos. I know we caught the fish and had the experience of a lifetime. If Dad was not present in pictures, he was still present in person. Like so many other times in my life, he was there, supporting me, encouraging me, and sharing the fun.
I hope things are better now, Dad. Say hello to Mom. Thanks for the support and the memories. I love you. I miss you. Until we meet again.
James Heldt, who died this week at age 93, had long battled mental and physical decline. He spent the last several years in assisted living and the last three without my mother, his loving wife of 70 years.
It was difficult watching him fail. When I last saw him, on January 17, he did not recognize me. Nor was he able to speak in sentences. He was not able to do much of anything in the twilight of his life.
Born on the Nebraska plains at the start of the Great Depression, Dad learned responsibility, hard work, and patience at an early age. The youngest of six sons, he moved to Eastern Oregon as a boy and became active in his church, his rural community, and his high school, where he served a year as student body president.
After attending a year of college and marrying my mother, he started a family and a career in small business, mostly as the manager of Sherwin-Williams and Montgomery Ward stores in Oregon and Washington. He won numerous business awards, the respect of his colleagues, and the loyalty of countless customers.
He also invested time in his family. Though he did not have much time to give, he gave it generously. He attended the games, the church programs, and the school activities and crowed about his kids at every opportunity. He took pride in raising thoughtful human beings.
Though Dad was generally a serious man, he had a quirky side. He loved playing Santa Claus at Christmas, watching comedies on television, and showing off Pepper, his beloved Dachshund.
Though I have many stories of Dad, one will always stand out. It will because of what happened and because of what did not.
In July 1976, we went fishing. We pursued salmon off Westport, Washington, with a dozen others from our church. No other family members attended. It was a father-and-ninth-grade-son sort of thing. Dad didn't make it an hour before giving up his early breakfast to the creatures of the sea. He didn't catch fish either, at least at first. Like most of the others on our small charter boat, he set his line at twenty yards, as the skipper had instructed, and waited patiently for a bite.
I didn't wait for a thing. Convinced that the fish, like all fish, congregated at the bottom, I dropped my line another ten yards. Never mind that we were 20 miles offshore. I dropped my line — right into a large school of salmon. Within minutes, I reeled in 38-, 33-, 31-, and 28-pound kings. The others on the boat soon did the same. They lowered their lines and drained the Pacific of tasty fish. Dad and I each caught four and gave our extras to others. We brought home 200 pounds of salmon. My biggest fish was the third largest caught off Westport that day and would have netted $750 had I invested a measly buck in a fishing derby.
Sadly, I don't have photographs of that day. I didn't take my Kodak, and my usually trusty Bell & Howell movie camera jammed. No others on the boat took pictures. One of the best moments of my adolescence went unrecorded. My "big fish" story exists only in memories.
I would give almost anything for snapshots of that trip. I would love to see the salmon and Dad's happy face as we weighed our catch.
But I don't need the photos. I know we caught the fish and had the experience of a lifetime. If Dad was not present in pictures, he was still present in person. Like so many other times in my life, he was there, supporting me, encouraging me, and sharing the fun.
I hope things are better now, Dad. Say hello to Mom. Thanks for the support and the memories. I love you. I miss you. Until we meet again.
Monday, February 3, 2025
Review: 1923
I did not need much coaxing. When I learned that a companion series to 1883 and Yellowstone was streaming, I put the offering on my watch list. When I discovered that the eight-episode production featured Harrison Ford and Helen Mirren, I promptly subscribed to Paramount Plus.
I am glad that I did. I found 1923 as riveting as the other series and far more visually pleasing. Set primarily in western Montana, where I lived for fourteen years, it exceeded even my lofty expectations.
Though Ford and Mirren star as Jacob and Cara Dutton, the patriarch and matriarch of a dynastic ranching family, others also shine in stories that are tied in some way to the larger narrative. They include Spencer Dutton, the dashing WWI vet who escapes to Africa, and Jack Dutton Jr., the young buck who helps Jacob and Cara run the ranch. The nephews find love in the form of Alexandra, a British royal searching for adventure, and Liz Strafford, a feisty local looking to belong.
There are, of course, villains galore, starting with Banner Creighton, a Scottish sheepherder, and Donald Whitfield, a sadistic business tycoon played by Timothy Dalton of James Bond fame. Both men conspire to wrest the Yellowstone Ranch from the Duttons. Each employs violent and underhanded means to gain control of a lucrative valley.
Then there is Teonna Rainwater, the rebellious Native American girl who escapes a residential school run by cruel priests and nuns. As she fights for her freedom and dignity, she provides an unsettling but welcome perspective on the rough-and-tumble Montana of Prohibition.
Though the violence and sexual content in 1923 are sometimes over the top, the series never strays far from its main storyline or 1883, its celebrated television prequel. It offers first-rate acting, a compelling narrative, a glimpse of an interesting time period, and cinematography of Montana and East Africa that is worthy of an IMAX theater.
Season 1 of 1923 aired in 2022-23. Season two begins February 23 on Paramount Plus. I, for one, will be watching. Rating 5/5.
I am glad that I did. I found 1923 as riveting as the other series and far more visually pleasing. Set primarily in western Montana, where I lived for fourteen years, it exceeded even my lofty expectations.
Though Ford and Mirren star as Jacob and Cara Dutton, the patriarch and matriarch of a dynastic ranching family, others also shine in stories that are tied in some way to the larger narrative. They include Spencer Dutton, the dashing WWI vet who escapes to Africa, and Jack Dutton Jr., the young buck who helps Jacob and Cara run the ranch. The nephews find love in the form of Alexandra, a British royal searching for adventure, and Liz Strafford, a feisty local looking to belong.
There are, of course, villains galore, starting with Banner Creighton, a Scottish sheepherder, and Donald Whitfield, a sadistic business tycoon played by Timothy Dalton of James Bond fame. Both men conspire to wrest the Yellowstone Ranch from the Duttons. Each employs violent and underhanded means to gain control of a lucrative valley.
Then there is Teonna Rainwater, the rebellious Native American girl who escapes a residential school run by cruel priests and nuns. As she fights for her freedom and dignity, she provides an unsettling but welcome perspective on the rough-and-tumble Montana of Prohibition.
Though the violence and sexual content in 1923 are sometimes over the top, the series never strays far from its main storyline or 1883, its celebrated television prequel. It offers first-rate acting, a compelling narrative, a glimpse of an interesting time period, and cinematography of Montana and East Africa that is worthy of an IMAX theater.
Season 1 of 1923 aired in 2022-23. Season two begins February 23 on Paramount Plus. I, for one, will be watching. Rating 5/5.
Sunday, January 5, 2025
The Battle of Monmouth
As battles go, it wasn't very decisive. Two armies met, two fought, and two left the field. As in baseball, the tie went to the runner.
Even so, the Battle of Monmouth, the only major engagement of the American Revolution in 1778, was important. It was a riveting moment in history that still spawns books, visual works, and arguments today.
George Washington rose at Monmouth. He solidified his position as commander of the Continental Army. He did so by chasing the British from a lush meadow in central New Jersey on June 28, 1778. He successfully deployed a force he had rebuilt at Valley Forge.
Charles Lee fell. The pompous general, Washington's second, lost not only his reputation at Monmouth but also his commission. He was court-martialed after ordering a retreat in the battle's first hours, creating a mess his boss had to clean up. He left the army in disgrace.
Women also contributed by playing roles rarely seen on a battlefield. They brought water to soldiers, treated them, and sometimes took their places. Led by Mary Ludwig Hays, who allegedly fired a cannon after her husband fell, they gave rise to the legend of Molly Pitcher.
These developments and more are covered in Mark Lender's Fatal Sunday, the definitive work on the battle, and in miniseries like The Revolution and Outlander. The latter series, now streaming on Starz, featured the confrontation in "Written in My Own Heart's Blood," an episode based on Diana Gabaldon's novel of the same name.
The battle did not change the balance of power in 1778. British soldiers, recent occupiers of Philadelphia, completed a successful retreat to New York City, where they licked their wounds and lived to fight another day. The war, which began in 1775, did not end, as a practical matter, until Washington finally cornered the redcoats at Yorktown in 1781.
Nonetheless, Monmouth was still important, which is why I included it in my current work. It is the pivotal centerpiece of The Winding Road, the sequel to The Patriots and the second book in the Stone Shed trilogy.
I am about halfway through the first draft. I hope to finish the draft by early March and publish the book itself by the end of May.
Image Credit: The featured illustration, "Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth," is an 1854 oil painting by Emanuel Leutze. The public-domain image is offered through Wikimedia Commons.
Even so, the Battle of Monmouth, the only major engagement of the American Revolution in 1778, was important. It was a riveting moment in history that still spawns books, visual works, and arguments today.
George Washington rose at Monmouth. He solidified his position as commander of the Continental Army. He did so by chasing the British from a lush meadow in central New Jersey on June 28, 1778. He successfully deployed a force he had rebuilt at Valley Forge.
Women also contributed by playing roles rarely seen on a battlefield. They brought water to soldiers, treated them, and sometimes took their places. Led by Mary Ludwig Hays, who allegedly fired a cannon after her husband fell, they gave rise to the legend of Molly Pitcher.
These developments and more are covered in Mark Lender's Fatal Sunday, the definitive work on the battle, and in miniseries like The Revolution and Outlander. The latter series, now streaming on Starz, featured the confrontation in "Written in My Own Heart's Blood," an episode based on Diana Gabaldon's novel of the same name.
The battle did not change the balance of power in 1778. British soldiers, recent occupiers of Philadelphia, completed a successful retreat to New York City, where they licked their wounds and lived to fight another day. The war, which began in 1775, did not end, as a practical matter, until Washington finally cornered the redcoats at Yorktown in 1781.
Nonetheless, Monmouth was still important, which is why I included it in my current work. It is the pivotal centerpiece of The Winding Road, the sequel to The Patriots and the second book in the Stone Shed trilogy.
I am about halfway through the first draft. I hope to finish the draft by early March and publish the book itself by the end of May.
Image Credit: The featured illustration, "Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth," is an 1854 oil painting by Emanuel Leutze. The public-domain image is offered through Wikimedia Commons.
Saturday, December 7, 2024
Going through a cycle of life
There is nothing quite like it. Holding a grandchild for the first time is like holding a child for the first time. It is a joyful, meaningful, humbling experience, one that reminds a person of the cycles of life.
Grandbabies are special. They are life's portable generators, little souls who lift our spirits and give us a boost when we need it. They remind us that the world, despite its many problems, is still a beautiful place.
My wife, Cheryl, and I got a reminder this week when we met Sarah Elizabeth Heldt, the first child of our son, Matthew, and his wife, Mikayla. We enjoyed a life experience that many people, particularly those in large families, take for granted. Born on November 25 in Oceanside, California, Sarah came into the world days before and days after two great-grandfathers passed away. She is the newest leaf on a family tree that already has many branches and deep roots that stretch from coast to coast.
Cheryl, the proud grandma, was particularly excited to see Sarah. She gave her a gift, an ornate Christmas stocking the new arrival will no doubt treasure for years to come. Our daughter Amy made the stocking in Puerto Rico and sent it to Cheryl to complete and bring on our trip to Southern California. Cheryl added Sarah's name to the stocking after her name, a closely guarded secret, was announced at her birth.
Matthew and Mikayla wasted no time hanging the stocking next to their own above their fireplace. They added another leaf to the tree.
As they did, they brought everything into focus. They reminded two grandparents that another generation had formed and was now going through its own motions. They brought everything full circle.
Sarah is our second grandchild. The first, Stella Irene Knipe, is now a six-year-old who snow skis, plays hockey, and develops her artistic side in North Idaho. She is growing much too fast for her grandparents.
We hope to have more grandchildren in the future. For now, though, we will cherish what we have. We will celebrate two granddaughters at a joyous time of the year and savor another cycle of life.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours!
Grandbabies are special. They are life's portable generators, little souls who lift our spirits and give us a boost when we need it. They remind us that the world, despite its many problems, is still a beautiful place.
Cheryl, the proud grandma, was particularly excited to see Sarah. She gave her a gift, an ornate Christmas stocking the new arrival will no doubt treasure for years to come. Our daughter Amy made the stocking in Puerto Rico and sent it to Cheryl to complete and bring on our trip to Southern California. Cheryl added Sarah's name to the stocking after her name, a closely guarded secret, was announced at her birth.
Matthew and Mikayla wasted no time hanging the stocking next to their own above their fireplace. They added another leaf to the tree.
As they did, they brought everything into focus. They reminded two grandparents that another generation had formed and was now going through its own motions. They brought everything full circle.
Sarah is our second grandchild. The first, Stella Irene Knipe, is now a six-year-old who snow skis, plays hockey, and develops her artistic side in North Idaho. She is growing much too fast for her grandparents.
We hope to have more grandchildren in the future. For now, though, we will cherish what we have. We will celebrate two granddaughters at a joyous time of the year and savor another cycle of life.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours!
Thursday, November 14, 2024
Reading again by listening
I never read my books after they are published. I occasionally update errors I discover or that readers point out, but I never read a book again from cover to cover. I have too many other things I would rather do with my limited time, like writing and editing my next work.
That said, I will listen to books again. When converting books to audio, I will review the narrator's "first drafts" and listen for any flaws. In the process, I will re-experience novels I wrote sometimes years earlier.
Last month, I did just that. For several hours — 11.5 to be exact — I listened to Crown City, the fifth and final book in the Time Box series. I listened to Roberto Scarlato, a skilled voice artist, bring a familiar work to life.
As I did, I revisited storylines, characters, and passages I had put on the shelf on November 26, 2021, when I published the Kindle edition of Crown City. I revisited many things I liked and a few I did not.
When you read or listen to a book months, or even years, after producing it, you view it differently. You tell yourself, "I'm glad I did this," or "I wish I had done that." You view your own work as a person with different knowledge, experience, priorities, and biases.
In the tenth of his Top 20 rules for writers, Stephen King advises scribes to finish their first draft within three months. He does so for a reason that makes perfect sense to those of us who have produced a novel.
When you write something over the course of months, you change. Your characters change. Your plotlines and story arcs change. A tale that made sense in April may not make sense in September.
Listening to a book years after it was published gives me the opportunity to spot things I might have done differently. It gives me the chance to see what I did right or wrong and apply that knowledge to future works.
It also gives me the opportunity to appreciate the work of my narrators, who wrestle with difficult personal names, place names, unusual words, and even phrases in foreign languages. As one who grew up in Washington state, which has tripwire place names like Puyallup and Sequim, and attended college at the University of Oregon, where students wore shirts shouting "Orygun" and "Willamette, damn it!" to educate some out-of-staters, I understand the challenges.
Fortunately for me — and listeners — the narrators have risen to the challenge. Mr. Scarlato, who has narrated my last five audiobooks, has done a particularly good job. He successfully navigated the minefield of Hawaiian and Japanese names in The Refuge and nailed the many distinct accents in Camp Lake, The Fair, Sea Spray, and Crown City. He did justice to novels I rediscovered for the second time.
With the arrival of Crown City, which goes live on Amazon, Audible, and Apple Books this week, I now have twenty books in audio. I intend to convert the remaining four and others in the coming years.
That said, I will listen to books again. When converting books to audio, I will review the narrator's "first drafts" and listen for any flaws. In the process, I will re-experience novels I wrote sometimes years earlier.
As I did, I revisited storylines, characters, and passages I had put on the shelf on November 26, 2021, when I published the Kindle edition of Crown City. I revisited many things I liked and a few I did not.
When you read or listen to a book months, or even years, after producing it, you view it differently. You tell yourself, "I'm glad I did this," or "I wish I had done that." You view your own work as a person with different knowledge, experience, priorities, and biases.
In the tenth of his Top 20 rules for writers, Stephen King advises scribes to finish their first draft within three months. He does so for a reason that makes perfect sense to those of us who have produced a novel.
When you write something over the course of months, you change. Your characters change. Your plotlines and story arcs change. A tale that made sense in April may not make sense in September.
Listening to a book years after it was published gives me the opportunity to spot things I might have done differently. It gives me the chance to see what I did right or wrong and apply that knowledge to future works.
It also gives me the opportunity to appreciate the work of my narrators, who wrestle with difficult personal names, place names, unusual words, and even phrases in foreign languages. As one who grew up in Washington state, which has tripwire place names like Puyallup and Sequim, and attended college at the University of Oregon, where students wore shirts shouting "Orygun" and "Willamette, damn it!" to educate some out-of-staters, I understand the challenges.
Fortunately for me — and listeners — the narrators have risen to the challenge. Mr. Scarlato, who has narrated my last five audiobooks, has done a particularly good job. He successfully navigated the minefield of Hawaiian and Japanese names in The Refuge and nailed the many distinct accents in Camp Lake, The Fair, Sea Spray, and Crown City. He did justice to novels I rediscovered for the second time.
With the arrival of Crown City, which goes live on Amazon, Audible, and Apple Books this week, I now have twenty books in audio. I intend to convert the remaining four and others in the coming years.
Tuesday, October 1, 2024
Getting an early start on No. 25
Playwright George Bernard Shaw advised that you should not "wait for perfect conditions" to begin an undertaking. You should instead "start where you are with what you have." So today, I did just that.
I started my twenty-fifth novel with the limited resources I have compiled over the past few weeks. I jumped headfirst into my next project.
The Winding Road, the second installment in the Stone Shed trilogy, will continue the story of Noah and Jake Maclean, orphaned brothers from 2024 who experience the American Revolution through the magic of time travel. It will pick up where The Patriots left off.
In the first book, the brothers, ages 23 and 16, committed to the lovely daughters of a furniture maker, a patriot family, and life in the 1770s. In the second book, they will build on these commitments. They will use their wits, knowledge, and resources to better several lives and improve America's fortunes in the midst of its war for independence.
Set in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut from 1777 to 1779, The Winding Road will focus on Noah's experiences as a soldier in the Continental Army and his developing relationship with fiancée Abigail Ward. Jake and Rachel Ward, Abby's younger sister, will assume important secondary roles and again test the limits of a stone shed that can send people through time. Douglas and Donna Maclean will continue to follow Noah's and Jake's travels and confront new challenges as they attempt to explain their grandnephews' disappearance to police, reporters, and family members in 2024.
Other characters will also get some play, including a dashing American officer who befriends Noah, a villainous British tracker, and George Washington. The beleaguered patriot general, surrounded by rivals, will quickly warm to a mysterious new soldier who can predict coming events and provide his struggling army with needed supplies.
Readers who wanted more history in the first book will get it in the second. They will have the opportunity to follow Noah from the bitter winter at Valley Forge to the critical Battle of Monmouth to the developing spy wars in and around New York City. They will see the American Revolution in its deceptively quiet middle years.
At a projected one hundred chapters, The Winding Road will be slightly smaller than The Patriots. I expect to complete the first draft sometime early next year and publish the novel itself in the spring.
Image credit: "Washington and Lafayette at Valley Forge," a 1907 oil painting by John Ward Dunsmore, is a public-domain image offered through Wikimedia Commons.
I started my twenty-fifth novel with the limited resources I have compiled over the past few weeks. I jumped headfirst into my next project.
In the first book, the brothers, ages 23 and 16, committed to the lovely daughters of a furniture maker, a patriot family, and life in the 1770s. In the second book, they will build on these commitments. They will use their wits, knowledge, and resources to better several lives and improve America's fortunes in the midst of its war for independence.
Set in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut from 1777 to 1779, The Winding Road will focus on Noah's experiences as a soldier in the Continental Army and his developing relationship with fiancée Abigail Ward. Jake and Rachel Ward, Abby's younger sister, will assume important secondary roles and again test the limits of a stone shed that can send people through time. Douglas and Donna Maclean will continue to follow Noah's and Jake's travels and confront new challenges as they attempt to explain their grandnephews' disappearance to police, reporters, and family members in 2024.
Other characters will also get some play, including a dashing American officer who befriends Noah, a villainous British tracker, and George Washington. The beleaguered patriot general, surrounded by rivals, will quickly warm to a mysterious new soldier who can predict coming events and provide his struggling army with needed supplies.
Readers who wanted more history in the first book will get it in the second. They will have the opportunity to follow Noah from the bitter winter at Valley Forge to the critical Battle of Monmouth to the developing spy wars in and around New York City. They will see the American Revolution in its deceptively quiet middle years.
At a projected one hundred chapters, The Winding Road will be slightly smaller than The Patriots. I expect to complete the first draft sometime early next year and publish the novel itself in the spring.
Image credit: "Washington and Lafayette at Valley Forge," a 1907 oil painting by John Ward Dunsmore, is a public-domain image offered through Wikimedia Commons.
Sunday, September 1, 2024
Review: Young Woman and Sea
As I posted in May, I am always in a history mood. As a reader and a TV viewer, I go out of my way to find a good story set in the past.
So it was a real treat to find Young Woman and the Sea, a biographical sports film currently streaming on Disney Plus. Set mostly in New York and France in the 1920s, the movie chronicles the early life of Gertrude Ederle, the first woman to swim across the English Channel.
in the film, Ederle, the daugher of a German American butcher, overcomes sickness, poverty, and soul-crushing misogyny and sexism to win Olympic medals, set world records, and finally cross the Channel, which she did on August 6, 1926. She also sets an example that inspired young women and swimmers generally for decades.
I found the movie even more compelling than The Boys in the Boat, a similar work featuring young American athletes overcoming the odds in the interwar years. Despite the cruelty she faces, Ederle never gives up and never loses her humanity. She serves as a role model for all.
Though Young Woman, based on the 2009 book by Glenn Stout, takes a few liberties with timelines, it offers a mostly accurate depiction of events. Daisy Ridley stars as Ederle, while Jeanette Hain and Tilda Cobham-Hervey shine as the swimmer's mother and sister.
I would recommend the film to anyone, particularly young women and athletes who like an inspiring true story. Rating 4.5/5.
So it was a real treat to find Young Woman and the Sea, a biographical sports film currently streaming on Disney Plus. Set mostly in New York and France in the 1920s, the movie chronicles the early life of Gertrude Ederle, the first woman to swim across the English Channel.
in the film, Ederle, the daugher of a German American butcher, overcomes sickness, poverty, and soul-crushing misogyny and sexism to win Olympic medals, set world records, and finally cross the Channel, which she did on August 6, 1926. She also sets an example that inspired young women and swimmers generally for decades.
I found the movie even more compelling than The Boys in the Boat, a similar work featuring young American athletes overcoming the odds in the interwar years. Despite the cruelty she faces, Ederle never gives up and never loses her humanity. She serves as a role model for all.
Though Young Woman, based on the 2009 book by Glenn Stout, takes a few liberties with timelines, it offers a mostly accurate depiction of events. Daisy Ridley stars as Ederle, while Jeanette Hain and Tilda Cobham-Hervey shine as the swimmer's mother and sister.
I would recommend the film to anyone, particularly young women and athletes who like an inspiring true story. Rating 4.5/5.
Monday, August 26, 2024
You say you want a Revolution
I have long had a fascination with the American Revolution. When I was eight, I latched onto The Young Rebels, a one-hit-wonder television series that blended The Mod Squad with the War of Independence.
Later, in high school, I dove into the Kent Family Chronicles, an eight-book series by John Jakes that covers the nation's founding and formative years. I got another whiff of history as entertainment.
As an adult, I considered more serious works, like 1776 and John Adams by David McCullough, The Glorious Cause by Jeff Shaara, and Benjamin Franklin: An American Life by Walter Isaacson. More recently, I have binge-watched series like Turn: Washington's Spies, Franklin, The Revolution, and Outlander, set in part in the 1770s and 1780s.
So I did not need much prodding to dive into the era. The Patriots, the first book in the Stone Shed trilogy, is my first foray into the American Revolution. Set in Philadelphia in both the present and the past, the novel examines America's first year from the viewpoint of two time travelers.
When their grandfather dies in 2024, Noah (22) and Jake (15) Maclean inherit a house, a mysterious stone shed, and a family secret that dates to the 1740s. The brothers learn they are the keepers of a portal that can send human beings through time. From that point on, life for the orphans is more than a series of questions. It is an opportunity.
With a nervous uncle's blessing, Noah and Jake take a three-month "vacation" to 1776 and the world of Ben Franklin, John Adams, Peggy Shippen, the Continental Congress, and the Declaration of Independence. They see the United States as a fledgling infant.
Then the trip takes a turn. The brothers meet Abigail (20) and Rachel (14) Ward, the lovely, spirited daughters of a Philadelphia furniture maker, and a thrilling adventure becomes a transformative journey.
The Patriots evokes earlier novels. As in The Fire, a stone shed serves as a time portal. As in Class of '59, brothers from one era mingle with sisters from another. As in Hannah's Moon, an aunt and uncle in the present track relatives in the past. War, a theme in ten other works, serves as a backdrop that influences almost every decision.
Even so, this book blazes its own trail. It delves more into the human aspects of time travel than the scientific aspects. It explores the what ifs, the whys, and the how comes. It tests the heart, mind, and soul.
At 155,000 words, The Patriots, my twenty-fourth novel, is my largest and most ambitious work to date. Available in Kindle format, it goes on sale today at Amazon.com and its international marketplaces.
Later, in high school, I dove into the Kent Family Chronicles, an eight-book series by John Jakes that covers the nation's founding and formative years. I got another whiff of history as entertainment.
So I did not need much prodding to dive into the era. The Patriots, the first book in the Stone Shed trilogy, is my first foray into the American Revolution. Set in Philadelphia in both the present and the past, the novel examines America's first year from the viewpoint of two time travelers.
When their grandfather dies in 2024, Noah (22) and Jake (15) Maclean inherit a house, a mysterious stone shed, and a family secret that dates to the 1740s. The brothers learn they are the keepers of a portal that can send human beings through time. From that point on, life for the orphans is more than a series of questions. It is an opportunity.
With a nervous uncle's blessing, Noah and Jake take a three-month "vacation" to 1776 and the world of Ben Franklin, John Adams, Peggy Shippen, the Continental Congress, and the Declaration of Independence. They see the United States as a fledgling infant.
Then the trip takes a turn. The brothers meet Abigail (20) and Rachel (14) Ward, the lovely, spirited daughters of a Philadelphia furniture maker, and a thrilling adventure becomes a transformative journey.
The Patriots evokes earlier novels. As in The Fire, a stone shed serves as a time portal. As in Class of '59, brothers from one era mingle with sisters from another. As in Hannah's Moon, an aunt and uncle in the present track relatives in the past. War, a theme in ten other works, serves as a backdrop that influences almost every decision.
Even so, this book blazes its own trail. It delves more into the human aspects of time travel than the scientific aspects. It explores the what ifs, the whys, and the how comes. It tests the heart, mind, and soul.
At 155,000 words, The Patriots, my twenty-fourth novel, is my largest and most ambitious work to date. Available in Kindle format, it goes on sale today at Amazon.com and its international marketplaces.
Monday, August 5, 2024
Remembering a family friend
It's never easy. As many people have observed over the years, losing a beloved pet is like losing a family member. You lose not only a companion but also part of yourself. We lost our cat, Charlotte, this week to an aggressive form of bone cancer. She went quickly on Sunday night after battling the illness for at least a few months.
Charlotte, for those who don't know, was an incredibly mellow and docile cat, one that would let even strangers pick her up every which way or give her long belly rubs. She was comfortable with people, dogs, and even change. Only vacuum cleaners got her attention.
She was a part of our family for fourteen years. During that time, she lived in five homes in three states and gave us enough memories to last a lifetime. In Alabama, where we let her run free, she once confronted an armadillo in our backyard and stood her ground. In 2015, in the same location, Charlotte climbed into the engine bay of my Nissan Frontier pickup and went for a seven-mile highway ride to the market. (She emerged shaken but unharmed from the harrowing experience.) In Nevada, she was a house cat and a never-ending source of amusement.
We noticed Charlotte's decline late this spring and took steps to accommodate it, but we merely prolonged the inevitable. As many pet owners know, old age is one thing, terminal illness is another.
In her last week, she ate little, drank little, and barely moved. And yet, she did her best to remind us that she was still around, still visible, and still a part of the family. On Saturday night, hours before she died, she did what she had done for years. Moving with a limp, she climbed two flights of stairs, entered my room as I worked, and plopped onto her side. She signaled her interest in getting one last belly rub.
I gave her the rub and, with my wife, Cheryl, gave her comfort the next evening when she finally passed away. Like so many others, I said goodbye to a pet that is now just a memory.
She was a part of our family for fourteen years. During that time, she lived in five homes in three states and gave us enough memories to last a lifetime. In Alabama, where we let her run free, she once confronted an armadillo in our backyard and stood her ground. In 2015, in the same location, Charlotte climbed into the engine bay of my Nissan Frontier pickup and went for a seven-mile highway ride to the market. (She emerged shaken but unharmed from the harrowing experience.) In Nevada, she was a house cat and a never-ending source of amusement.
We noticed Charlotte's decline late this spring and took steps to accommodate it, but we merely prolonged the inevitable. As many pet owners know, old age is one thing, terminal illness is another.
In her last week, she ate little, drank little, and barely moved. And yet, she did her best to remind us that she was still around, still visible, and still a part of the family. On Saturday night, hours before she died, she did what she had done for years. Moving with a limp, she climbed two flights of stairs, entered my room as I worked, and plopped onto her side. She signaled her interest in getting one last belly rub.
I gave her the rub and, with my wife, Cheryl, gave her comfort the next evening when she finally passed away. Like so many others, I said goodbye to a pet that is now just a memory.
Thursday, July 4, 2024
Born on the Fourth of July
On Independence Day, many Americans attend patriotic parades, have picnics, and watch colorful fireworks shows well into the night. (And sometimes, depending on the neighorhood, into the next day.)
I finish books. For at least the second time, I finished the first draft of a novel on July 4. I stopped typing before lighting the sparklers.
In this case, it was especially fitting. The Patriots, the first novel in the Stone Shed series, is all about the Spirit of '76. Two chapters, in fact, are set on a July 4, including the first Independence Day observance in Philadelphia in 1777. Both chapters set the tone for a book that documents and celebrates the founding of the United States.
In The Patriots, two brothers from 2024 travel through time to 1776 Philadelphia, where they meet several notables — including Peggy Shippen, Ben Franklin, and John Adams — and fall for the lovely daughters of a furniture maker. They begin an odyssey that will continue through books two and three and the rest of the American Revolution.
At 157,000 words, The Patriots is by far my largest novel. Despite its immense size, I still expect to finish and release it in September.
I finish books. For at least the second time, I finished the first draft of a novel on July 4. I stopped typing before lighting the sparklers.
In this case, it was especially fitting. The Patriots, the first novel in the Stone Shed series, is all about the Spirit of '76. Two chapters, in fact, are set on a July 4, including the first Independence Day observance in Philadelphia in 1777. Both chapters set the tone for a book that documents and celebrates the founding of the United States.
In The Patriots, two brothers from 2024 travel through time to 1776 Philadelphia, where they meet several notables — including Peggy Shippen, Ben Franklin, and John Adams — and fall for the lovely daughters of a furniture maker. They begin an odyssey that will continue through books two and three and the rest of the American Revolution.
At 157,000 words, The Patriots is by far my largest novel. Despite its immense size, I still expect to finish and release it in September.
Wednesday, June 26, 2024
A rosé by any other name
I don't know wine. To me, a good vintage is one that's in the clearance aisle at the supermarket. Beer is my beverage of choice.
On Monday, though, I played wine connoisseur. At two wineries in Napa, California, I gave several varieties a visual inspection, swirled them around to "unlock their bouquet," aired them out a bit, and finally threw them at my palate. I did what some people — a lot of people, actually — do every day.
I liked the experience. Though I didn't understand the science of winemaking or half of my sommeliers' gibberish about "notes of this" or "hints of that," I liked what I tasted. Then again, I expected to. When you taste the wine in one of world's greatest wine regions, you are bound to find something good.
I visited Northern California this week as my wife Cheryl's administrative assistant. She attended an education conference. I edited her blog and enjoyed the ride. A fair trade. As a part of our experience, we took an e-bike tour of the Napa Valley, home to five hundred wineries.
Our guide, Don, a transplant from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, was a font of information on all things Napa Valley. He educated two couples on everything from the region's geography and climate to its history and rise as a wine-making capital following a 1976 wine competition in Paris, an event chronicled in the 2008 comedy-drama Bottle Shock.
As for the bike ride, it was nice as well. Starting and ending in Yountville, home of the French Laundry restaurant, it covered about eighteen miles on sidestreets, paved paths, and even highways. Along the way, we passed not only vineyards and wineries but also lush farmland, olive orchards, and eucalyptus groves. E-bikes, in case you have not tried them, are a kick. They are exercise for the rest of us.
I hope to take a few more of these trips in between writing and editing novels. Doing is living, as they say, and I plan to do a lot more.
I visited Northern California this week as my wife Cheryl's administrative assistant. She attended an education conference. I edited her blog and enjoyed the ride. A fair trade. As a part of our experience, we took an e-bike tour of the Napa Valley, home to five hundred wineries.
Our guide, Don, a transplant from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, was a font of information on all things Napa Valley. He educated two couples on everything from the region's geography and climate to its history and rise as a wine-making capital following a 1976 wine competition in Paris, an event chronicled in the 2008 comedy-drama Bottle Shock.
As for the bike ride, it was nice as well. Starting and ending in Yountville, home of the French Laundry restaurant, it covered about eighteen miles on sidestreets, paved paths, and even highways. Along the way, we passed not only vineyards and wineries but also lush farmland, olive orchards, and eucalyptus groves. E-bikes, in case you have not tried them, are a kick. They are exercise for the rest of us.
I hope to take a few more of these trips in between writing and editing novels. Doing is living, as they say, and I plan to do a lot more.
Thursday, June 6, 2024
Review: John Adams
He was not the most glamorous founder. Or the most charismatic. Or even the most admirable. His most notable initiative as president, the Alien and Sedition Acts, prompted protests across the country.
Even so, he was interesting. John Adams, America's second president, was a study in contrasts who fascinates researchers, readers, and even television viewers. He was a man who still intrigues.
I reacquainted myself with Adams this month when I rented John Adams, the 2008 miniseries from HBO. Based on the Pulitzer-Prize-winning book by David McCullough, the seven-part series documents Adams' life as a lawyer, a congressional delegate, an ambassador, a vice president, a president, and a senior statesman.
Though Paul Giamatti shines as the moody, mercurial Adams, others turn in strong performances. Laura Linney, David Morse, and Stephen Dillane play convincing versions of Abigail Adams, George Washington, and Thomas Jefferson. Ebon Moss-Bachrach does the same as John Quincy Adams, the founder's oldest son and a future president.
The loving but turbulent relationship between John and Abigail Adams is particularly compelling. The power couple endured numerous hardships during America's colonial and revolutionary periods, including hardships chronicled in more than one thousand personal letters.
No less riveting is Adams' friendship with Jefferson. The allies, rivals, and friends maintained a grudging respect from the time they signed the Declaration of Independence to July 4, 1826, the day the United States turned fifty and Adams and Jefferson died hours apart.
I rented the series to better familiarize myself with Adams, who plays a small but significant part in The Patriots, a historical fiction novel I will release in September. Adams, a delegate to the Continental Congress, mingles with protagonist Noah Maclean in early 1777.
I would recommend both the miniseries and McCullough's book to people who love history and compelling drama. Rating: 5/5.
Even so, he was interesting. John Adams, America's second president, was a study in contrasts who fascinates researchers, readers, and even television viewers. He was a man who still intrigues.
I reacquainted myself with Adams this month when I rented John Adams, the 2008 miniseries from HBO. Based on the Pulitzer-Prize-winning book by David McCullough, the seven-part series documents Adams' life as a lawyer, a congressional delegate, an ambassador, a vice president, a president, and a senior statesman.
Though Paul Giamatti shines as the moody, mercurial Adams, others turn in strong performances. Laura Linney, David Morse, and Stephen Dillane play convincing versions of Abigail Adams, George Washington, and Thomas Jefferson. Ebon Moss-Bachrach does the same as John Quincy Adams, the founder's oldest son and a future president.
The loving but turbulent relationship between John and Abigail Adams is particularly compelling. The power couple endured numerous hardships during America's colonial and revolutionary periods, including hardships chronicled in more than one thousand personal letters.
No less riveting is Adams' friendship with Jefferson. The allies, rivals, and friends maintained a grudging respect from the time they signed the Declaration of Independence to July 4, 1826, the day the United States turned fifty and Adams and Jefferson died hours apart.
I rented the series to better familiarize myself with Adams, who plays a small but significant part in The Patriots, a historical fiction novel I will release in September. Adams, a delegate to the Continental Congress, mingles with protagonist Noah Maclean in early 1777.
I would recommend both the miniseries and McCullough's book to people who love history and compelling drama. Rating: 5/5.
Wednesday, May 1, 2024
Finding history on the tube
As a television viewer, I am always in a history mood. I don't care if a movie or series covers the French Revolution or the Vietnam War, I want it. I want to lose myself in another time. So it was with great interest I found four outstanding series on FX, Hulu, and Apple TV.
Shōgun, Masters of the Air, Franklin, and Manhunt are not just entertaining. They are history classes worthy of any college.
Shōgun follows John Blackthorne, a stranded British sailor, as he becomes embroiled in a feudal power struggle in Japan in 1600. Masters chronicles the "Bloody 100th," a U.S. B-17 bomber group that sustained horrific losses in World War II. Franklin covers Benjamin Franklin's diplomatic efforts in France during the American Revolution. Manhunt follows Secretary of War Edwin Stanton's search for John Wilkes Booth in the aftermath of Abraham Lincoln's assassination.
Each miniseries debuted this year. Each is a splendid adaptation of a celebrated book. Each sticks close to the historical record.
None are dry history. Thanks to strong performances by Cosmo Jarvis (Blackthorne), Austin Butler (Major 'Buck' Cleven), Michael Douglas (Franklin), and Tobias Menzies (Stanton), the series are as entertaining as they are informative. Add strong supporting casts, stories, scripts, and cinematography and you have outstanding television.
Each series can be hard to follow. Shōgun, Masters of the Air, and Manhunt feature a large number of characters. Shōgun and Franklin require following subtitles closely. In Shōgun, a viewer can easily get lost in the nuances of 17th-century Japanese culture. Even so, the plusses of all four productions far outweigh their negatives.
I would recommend each series to lovers of history and great TV. Ratings: Shōgun 5/5, Masters 5/5, Franklin 4.8/5, Manhunt 4.5/5.
Shōgun, Masters of the Air, Franklin, and Manhunt are not just entertaining. They are history classes worthy of any college.
Shōgun follows John Blackthorne, a stranded British sailor, as he becomes embroiled in a feudal power struggle in Japan in 1600. Masters chronicles the "Bloody 100th," a U.S. B-17 bomber group that sustained horrific losses in World War II. Franklin covers Benjamin Franklin's diplomatic efforts in France during the American Revolution. Manhunt follows Secretary of War Edwin Stanton's search for John Wilkes Booth in the aftermath of Abraham Lincoln's assassination.
Each miniseries debuted this year. Each is a splendid adaptation of a celebrated book. Each sticks close to the historical record.
None are dry history. Thanks to strong performances by Cosmo Jarvis (Blackthorne), Austin Butler (Major 'Buck' Cleven), Michael Douglas (Franklin), and Tobias Menzies (Stanton), the series are as entertaining as they are informative. Add strong supporting casts, stories, scripts, and cinematography and you have outstanding television.
Each series can be hard to follow. Shōgun, Masters of the Air, and Manhunt feature a large number of characters. Shōgun and Franklin require following subtitles closely. In Shōgun, a viewer can easily get lost in the nuances of 17th-century Japanese culture. Even so, the plusses of all four productions far outweigh their negatives.
I would recommend each series to lovers of history and great TV. Ratings: Shōgun 5/5, Masters 5/5, Franklin 4.8/5, Manhunt 4.5/5.
Thursday, April 11, 2024
Birds of a feather
Wednesday, April 3, 2024
Review: The Artful Dodger
I admit I haven't read Oliver Twist. I haven't even seen the 1968 movie, the one that won six Oscars, including Best Picture.
Even so, I am vaguely familiar with Charles Dickens' classic tale about a gang of juvenile pickpockets in 1830s London. So when I saw that Disney Plus and Hulu were streaming a highly rated sequel to Oliver Twist in the form of an eight-part series, I jumped on it.
I'm glad I did. The Artful Dodger is not just good television. It is top-notch entertainment, the kind that is increasingly hard to find.
Set in Australia in the 1850s, Dodger follows the adult double life of Jack Dawkins, the leader of the original band of thieves. Now a surgeon who learned his trade in the Royal Navy, Dawkins tries hard to bury his criminal past and start a new life in a wild and rugged penal colony.
Thomas Brodie-Sangster stars as Dawkins, while David Thewlis and Maia Mitchell shine as Norbert Fagin and Lady Belle Fox, the people who complicate the Dodger's life. Fagin, Dawkins' surrogate father, tries to lure the Dodger back into a life of crime the moment he arrives in Australia. Belle tries to pick his brain. The bright, beautiful governor's daughter strives to become a surgeon in a world run by men.
Other characters, including Belle's family, rival surgeons, local officials, and even Oliver Twist himself, add spice to a riveting series.
Though I enjoyed the production from start to finish, I was drawn most to Dawkins' relationships with Fagin and Belle, which develop wonderfully in the series. Even the somewhat predictable ending was first-rate.
I would recommend the The Artful Dodger to any viewer who likes humor, history, and a compelling, fast-moving story. Rating: 5/5.
Even so, I am vaguely familiar with Charles Dickens' classic tale about a gang of juvenile pickpockets in 1830s London. So when I saw that Disney Plus and Hulu were streaming a highly rated sequel to Oliver Twist in the form of an eight-part series, I jumped on it.
I'm glad I did. The Artful Dodger is not just good television. It is top-notch entertainment, the kind that is increasingly hard to find.
Set in Australia in the 1850s, Dodger follows the adult double life of Jack Dawkins, the leader of the original band of thieves. Now a surgeon who learned his trade in the Royal Navy, Dawkins tries hard to bury his criminal past and start a new life in a wild and rugged penal colony.
Thomas Brodie-Sangster stars as Dawkins, while David Thewlis and Maia Mitchell shine as Norbert Fagin and Lady Belle Fox, the people who complicate the Dodger's life. Fagin, Dawkins' surrogate father, tries to lure the Dodger back into a life of crime the moment he arrives in Australia. Belle tries to pick his brain. The bright, beautiful governor's daughter strives to become a surgeon in a world run by men.
Other characters, including Belle's family, rival surgeons, local officials, and even Oliver Twist himself, add spice to a riveting series.
Though I enjoyed the production from start to finish, I was drawn most to Dawkins' relationships with Fagin and Belle, which develop wonderfully in the series. Even the somewhat predictable ending was first-rate.
I would recommend the The Artful Dodger to any viewer who likes humor, history, and a compelling, fast-moving story. Rating: 5/5.
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
Unraveling a Revolution
The book will be a big one. With a projected length of 142,000 words, it will be bigger even than River Rising and The Memory Tree, the weighty twin tomes that anchor the Carson Chronicles series.
I admit that gives me pause. Authors are strongly advised to limit their books, even historical fiction works, to 100,000 words.
I won't with this one though. Like many writers, I believe that if you have a story to tell, you should tell it. You should develop every major character and narrative thread until you can develop no more.
In The Patriots, my twenty-fourth novel, I will do just that. I will dive deep into the lives of Noah and Jake Maclean, two orphaned brothers who travel from the Philadelphia of 2024 to the one of 1776.
Like most boys, Noah, 22, and Jake, 15, will not be able to resist a dangerous temptation that calls to them from their own property. They will enter a mysterious stone shed and venture to the American Revolution, where they will meet Ben Franklin, John Adams, Peggy Shippen, and the lovely daughters of a furniture maker.
Unlike September Sky, River Rising, The Lane Betrayal, and The Fountain, the first books of my last four series, The Patriots will focus more on people than events. It will focus on the brothers; sisters Abigail (20) and Rachel (14) Ward; and Douglas Maclean, the boys' great-uncle and the patriarch of a Scottish clan that goes back centuries.
It will also lay the foundation for a trilogy that spans the length of the revolution, a conflict I am covering for the first time. It will set the stage for more action-oriented stories in books two and three.
Because of the book's length, I don't expect to finish the first draft before July. I do expect to have the finished product out by October 1.
Credit: Spirit of '76, an 1875 oil painting by American illustrator Archibald MacNeal Willard, is courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
I admit that gives me pause. Authors are strongly advised to limit their books, even historical fiction works, to 100,000 words.
In The Patriots, my twenty-fourth novel, I will do just that. I will dive deep into the lives of Noah and Jake Maclean, two orphaned brothers who travel from the Philadelphia of 2024 to the one of 1776.
Like most boys, Noah, 22, and Jake, 15, will not be able to resist a dangerous temptation that calls to them from their own property. They will enter a mysterious stone shed and venture to the American Revolution, where they will meet Ben Franklin, John Adams, Peggy Shippen, and the lovely daughters of a furniture maker.
Unlike September Sky, River Rising, The Lane Betrayal, and The Fountain, the first books of my last four series, The Patriots will focus more on people than events. It will focus on the brothers; sisters Abigail (20) and Rachel (14) Ward; and Douglas Maclean, the boys' great-uncle and the patriarch of a Scottish clan that goes back centuries.
It will also lay the foundation for a trilogy that spans the length of the revolution, a conflict I am covering for the first time. It will set the stage for more action-oriented stories in books two and three.
Because of the book's length, I don't expect to finish the first draft before July. I do expect to have the finished product out by October 1.
Credit: Spirit of '76, an 1875 oil painting by American illustrator Archibald MacNeal Willard, is courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Wednesday, March 6, 2024
The Refuge goes audio
Since publishing The Mine, my first novel, more than twelve years ago, I have focused mostly on producing ebooks -- for obvious reasons. Ebooks are easier to create, update, and ultimately sell. They are the fastest and surest way to get a return on my investment.
Even so, I have not neglected other formats. Though print books and audiobooks are not as lucrative or easy to update, they are important. Many people will not read a book unless they can hold a paper copy in their hands. Others prefer not to read at all. They would rather listen.
For that reason and others, I have done my best to convert all of my Kindle books to print and audio. All twenty-three of my novels are already in print. As of last month, nineteen are also available in audio.
The Refuge, the fourth book in the Time Box series, joined that group last week. Released on February 29, it is now available through Amazon, Apple Books, and Audible.
Roberto Scarlato, who also narrated The Fair and Sea Spray, books two and three in the series, will narrate book five. The talented Michigan voice artist will begin work on Crown City sometime this spring.
As with previous audiobooks, I can distribute a limited number of Audible books in exchange for reviews. Please contact me if interested in a free code for The Refuge or selected other audiobooks.
Even so, I have not neglected other formats. Though print books and audiobooks are not as lucrative or easy to update, they are important. Many people will not read a book unless they can hold a paper copy in their hands. Others prefer not to read at all. They would rather listen.
The Refuge, the fourth book in the Time Box series, joined that group last week. Released on February 29, it is now available through Amazon, Apple Books, and Audible.
Roberto Scarlato, who also narrated The Fair and Sea Spray, books two and three in the series, will narrate book five. The talented Michigan voice artist will begin work on Crown City sometime this spring.
As with previous audiobooks, I can distribute a limited number of Audible books in exchange for reviews. Please contact me if interested in a free code for The Refuge or selected other audiobooks.
A wedding to remember
Thursday, February 8, 2024
The impact of AI on art
I first learned about artificial intelligence (AI) in the seventh grade. While reading "EPICAC," a short story by Kurt Vonnegut, I learned all about EPICAC, the world's first electronic general-purpose computer, and two of its handlers. Like others in my English class, I learned about the possibilities and problems of using technology to produce art.
In Vonnegut's story, the unnamed narrator, a nerdy mathematician, asks EPICAC to write poems to win over Pat, a reluctant colleague. He succeeds when he passes off the computer's work as his own. Pat agrees to marry him, provided that he write her a poem every anniversary. All is well, in fact, until EPICAC falls in love with Pat and destroys itself trying to understand why it cannot marry a human.
Since that time, I have viewed the fusion of technology and art with a decidedly jaded eye. I believe literature, like other art, should be imperfect, messy, and most of all, authentic, something brimming with quirks and idiosyncrasies. It should be more man than machine.
Others take a different view. In recent years, they have flooded the market with movies, music, and images that were created with the help of computers. Some have used tools that are accessible online.
As an author, I have focused more on AI's impact on writing and publishing. So have others. The Columbia Journalism Review detailed AI's impact on journalism earlier this month. Other publications, such as Forbes and Publishers Weekly, have explained how technology is changing the way authors and publishers produce books.
Artificial intelligence has even seeped into the realm of audiobooks. A few weeks ago, Amazon began offering authors the option of having their works narrated with a virtual voice. Examples of the new technology, still in the beta stage, can be found here.
Being something of a Luddite, I have resisted the trend toward AI, but even I recognize the promise it holds and how it can be used within acceptable boundaries. For several weeks now, I have used Google Gemini, an AI chatbot and research assistant, as a tool in finding information about the United States in the 1770s. I intend to use it even more in the days to come as I finish my research for my next novel.
Even so, I will keep most new technologies at bay. I will produce books as I have done for twelve years now and will probably do for twelve more. I will use AI for research, but never for writing.
I will take that approach with other things as well, including those more personal. For 37 years, I have written my wife, Cheryl, a poem every anniversary. Most are cringey limericks, haikus, and sonnets I wouldn't share in a tavern, but all are original and authentic. Unlike the narrator in "ENICAC," I did my own work. That's how it should be.
In Vonnegut's story, the unnamed narrator, a nerdy mathematician, asks EPICAC to write poems to win over Pat, a reluctant colleague. He succeeds when he passes off the computer's work as his own. Pat agrees to marry him, provided that he write her a poem every anniversary. All is well, in fact, until EPICAC falls in love with Pat and destroys itself trying to understand why it cannot marry a human.
Since that time, I have viewed the fusion of technology and art with a decidedly jaded eye. I believe literature, like other art, should be imperfect, messy, and most of all, authentic, something brimming with quirks and idiosyncrasies. It should be more man than machine.
Others take a different view. In recent years, they have flooded the market with movies, music, and images that were created with the help of computers. Some have used tools that are accessible online.
As an author, I have focused more on AI's impact on writing and publishing. So have others. The Columbia Journalism Review detailed AI's impact on journalism earlier this month. Other publications, such as Forbes and Publishers Weekly, have explained how technology is changing the way authors and publishers produce books.
Artificial intelligence has even seeped into the realm of audiobooks. A few weeks ago, Amazon began offering authors the option of having their works narrated with a virtual voice. Examples of the new technology, still in the beta stage, can be found here.
Being something of a Luddite, I have resisted the trend toward AI, but even I recognize the promise it holds and how it can be used within acceptable boundaries. For several weeks now, I have used Google Gemini, an AI chatbot and research assistant, as a tool in finding information about the United States in the 1770s. I intend to use it even more in the days to come as I finish my research for my next novel.
Even so, I will keep most new technologies at bay. I will produce books as I have done for twelve years now and will probably do for twelve more. I will use AI for research, but never for writing.
I will take that approach with other things as well, including those more personal. For 37 years, I have written my wife, Cheryl, a poem every anniversary. Most are cringey limericks, haikus, and sonnets I wouldn't share in a tavern, but all are original and authentic. Unlike the narrator in "ENICAC," I did my own work. That's how it should be.
Friday, February 2, 2024
The City of Brotherly Love
I have never been to Philadelphia. Once, in 1984, while driving with a college friend from Connecticut to Washington, D.C., I entered the city's New Jersey suburbs on Interstate 295, but not the city itself.
Since then, I have not come even close to the place that gave us the Phillies, cheesesteaks, and most important, the Declaration of Independence. Like a lot of people, I have seen the city from afar and not given it a second thought. That changed last month, at least in a figurative sense, when I began researching the Philadelphia of the late 1770s, the primary setting of my next novel and time-travel trilogy.
Since January 1, I have read books and articles, contacted experts, and watched movies and television series to get a better understanding of a setting that is as important to democracy as the declaration itself.
As I did, I learned that Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, was a pretty big deal. With a population of forty thousand, it was the largest city in the Western Hemisphere in 1776 and the center of commerce and culture in British North America. It boasted America's first library, hospital, and university. (Harvard, alas, was a mere college.)
It also featured interesting people. Ben Franklin put his stamp on the city. So did George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, William Howe, and the treasonous trio of Benedict Arnold, Peggy Shippen, and John André. All added color and intrigue to a town that never rested during America's eight-year war for independence. Some, like Franklin and Shippen, will mingle with my protagonists in the first book. Others, like Washington, will do so in the second and third.
The protagonists, two brothers from 2024, will also experience Philadelphia. They will visit the city's bustling waterfront, Independence Hall, High Street Market, City Tavern, and the countryside between Philadelphia and Upper Merion Township, where a mysterious stone shed will serve as a time portal in all three books. They will see their native Pennsylvania as it existed in the 1770s and other eras.
I hope to finish researching Philadelphia, the war, and the 1770s this month and begin writing the book itself in March or early April.
Image Credit: In "Washington's Inaugration at Philadelphia," an oil painting by Jean Leon Gerome Ferris (1863–1930), George Washington arrives at Congress Hall in Philadelphia on March 4, 1793. The public domain illustration is courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Since then, I have not come even close to the place that gave us the Phillies, cheesesteaks, and most important, the Declaration of Independence. Like a lot of people, I have seen the city from afar and not given it a second thought. That changed last month, at least in a figurative sense, when I began researching the Philadelphia of the late 1770s, the primary setting of my next novel and time-travel trilogy.
As I did, I learned that Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, was a pretty big deal. With a population of forty thousand, it was the largest city in the Western Hemisphere in 1776 and the center of commerce and culture in British North America. It boasted America's first library, hospital, and university. (Harvard, alas, was a mere college.)
It also featured interesting people. Ben Franklin put his stamp on the city. So did George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, William Howe, and the treasonous trio of Benedict Arnold, Peggy Shippen, and John André. All added color and intrigue to a town that never rested during America's eight-year war for independence. Some, like Franklin and Shippen, will mingle with my protagonists in the first book. Others, like Washington, will do so in the second and third.
The protagonists, two brothers from 2024, will also experience Philadelphia. They will visit the city's bustling waterfront, Independence Hall, High Street Market, City Tavern, and the countryside between Philadelphia and Upper Merion Township, where a mysterious stone shed will serve as a time portal in all three books. They will see their native Pennsylvania as it existed in the 1770s and other eras.
I hope to finish researching Philadelphia, the war, and the 1770s this month and begin writing the book itself in March or early April.
Image Credit: In "Washington's Inaugration at Philadelphia," an oil painting by Jean Leon Gerome Ferris (1863–1930), George Washington arrives at Congress Hall in Philadelphia on March 4, 1793. The public domain illustration is courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Thursday, January 4, 2024
New priorities for a new year
The road ahead looks different now. Three weeks into retirement, it looks more like Nevada's Route 50, the "loneliest road in America," than a busy thoroughfare dotted with attractions and billboards.
Even so, it is not empty. It's more like a path that offers new opportunities for an author who loves challenges and a change of pace. Fresh from an enjoyable nine-day vacation in Puerto Rico, I am already mapping out the possibilities for a productive 2024.
My first order of business, of course, is to start a new series. With the Carpenters and the Second Chance triology in my rear-view mirror, I am now focused on new characters and storylines. In fact, I have already begun outlining a time-travel series where two orphaned brothers, moved by their grandfather's deathbed confession, begin a life-changing journey to the 1770s and the Philadelphia of America's founders.
If that theme sounds familiar, it should. In my next project, I will borrow from The Fire, Class of '59, The Lane Betrayal, Duties and Dreams, and other works in creating a trilogy that will blend old and new. In doing so, I will delve into the American Revolution for the first time.
I intend to research the period through the winter and begin writing in April. I hope to have the first book in the series out by the fall.
I also hope to convert at least two more books to audio in 2024, including The Refuge, which should be out sometime next month. With the release of that title, narrated by Roberto Scarlato, nineteen of my twenty-three novels will be available as audiobooks.
Though I will not be as driven to sell books as in past years, I will not neglect the business side of things either. I passed the 800,000 lifetime sales mark on Amazon in December 2023 and hope to hit the million mark before putting my MacBook Air out to pasture.
I should note, of course, that Amazon counts free and discounted books as "sales," which is why I am still writing and not building matching bungalows on Bora Bora, but the seven-figure-sale milestone is still important. It represents one of the few remaining objectives I want to reach in a career that began as a hobby a dozen years ago.
Beyond writing, I hope to do more traveling and reading in the coming year. Trips to Florida, the Pacific Northwest, and possibly the wine country of Northern California loom. So do more examinations of the framers. Walter Isaacson's Ben Franklin is my next read, followed by David McCullough's John Adams, a book I read years ago.
I am also going to keep an open mind toward getting a dog. Spending quality time with "Backup," my daughter Amy's lovable lab-pit mix, in Puerto Rico has prompted me to explore the notion again. In the meantime, I will find useful ways to use my newfound time.
I hope the holidays have been good to you and yours and wish you the best in whatever you take on in the coming year!
Photo: With "Backup," in Carolina, Puerto Rico, on New Year's Eve.
My first order of business, of course, is to start a new series. With the Carpenters and the Second Chance triology in my rear-view mirror, I am now focused on new characters and storylines. In fact, I have already begun outlining a time-travel series where two orphaned brothers, moved by their grandfather's deathbed confession, begin a life-changing journey to the 1770s and the Philadelphia of America's founders.
If that theme sounds familiar, it should. In my next project, I will borrow from The Fire, Class of '59, The Lane Betrayal, Duties and Dreams, and other works in creating a trilogy that will blend old and new. In doing so, I will delve into the American Revolution for the first time.
I intend to research the period through the winter and begin writing in April. I hope to have the first book in the series out by the fall.
I also hope to convert at least two more books to audio in 2024, including The Refuge, which should be out sometime next month. With the release of that title, narrated by Roberto Scarlato, nineteen of my twenty-three novels will be available as audiobooks.
Though I will not be as driven to sell books as in past years, I will not neglect the business side of things either. I passed the 800,000 lifetime sales mark on Amazon in December 2023 and hope to hit the million mark before putting my MacBook Air out to pasture.
I should note, of course, that Amazon counts free and discounted books as "sales," which is why I am still writing and not building matching bungalows on Bora Bora, but the seven-figure-sale milestone is still important. It represents one of the few remaining objectives I want to reach in a career that began as a hobby a dozen years ago.
Beyond writing, I hope to do more traveling and reading in the coming year. Trips to Florida, the Pacific Northwest, and possibly the wine country of Northern California loom. So do more examinations of the framers. Walter Isaacson's Ben Franklin is my next read, followed by David McCullough's John Adams, a book I read years ago.
I am also going to keep an open mind toward getting a dog. Spending quality time with "Backup," my daughter Amy's lovable lab-pit mix, in Puerto Rico has prompted me to explore the notion again. In the meantime, I will find useful ways to use my newfound time.
I hope the holidays have been good to you and yours and wish you the best in whatever you take on in the coming year!
Photo: With "Backup," in Carolina, Puerto Rico, on New Year's Eve.
Sunday, December 17, 2023
The road to retirement
I started as a paperboy. Sometime in 1974, at the ripe old age of 12, I began delivering the Seattle Times in a suburban subdivision that could have doubled as a set on The Brady Bunch. For three years, I overcame deadlines, dogs, and sometimes dreadful weather to get folded papers onto dry porches. I officially entered the workforce.
Since that time, I have held no fewer than thirty jobs. In high school and college, I washed dishes, bagged groceries, flipped French fries, sold appliances, shelved books, delivered office supplies, counted people for a census, mentored boys at a summer camp, wrote articles, and answered phone calls for a congressman.
In one summer job, at a vegetable packing plant, I stood inside a small refrigerated chamber and broke up clumps of frozen peas on a moving conveyer belt. With a long rake. For eight hours a day.
All of the grunt jobs prepared me well for the "real" world, where I made my mark as a sportswriter, an editor, a librarian, and finally as an author. Each experience taught me patience, humility, discipline, responsibility, and many other things I applied in life.
Though most of these jobs are decades in the past, I remembered all of them today as I punched a time card for the last time and officially retired. Leaving my position as a computer lab assistant at a Las Vegas library brought fifty years of labor into focus.
When people work a wide variety of jobs, they learn a lot about themselves. When they work with a wide variety of people, they learn a lot about society. They learn things that give them perspective and a better understanding of the world around them.
I know I did. I not only learned things but also put them to use. In several novels, I borrowed from work experiences, particularly those as a grocery clerk, a newspaper reporter, and a librarian. In Camp Lake I did even more. I constructed an entire story around my memorable tenure at a summer camp in Maine in 1983. I expect to incorporate even more work experiences in future books.
In the meantime, I will look back. I will remember the unexpected rewards and the special times from five decades of working for "the man" and for myself. I will recall the moments that mattered.
Perhaps the biggest came in 1994, when I walked into a newsroom to a standing ovation. My peers, fellow editors and reporters at a daily newspaper in Washington, had just learned of my award in a regional journalism competition and let me know it. They took a moment from their busy schedules to acknowledge a job well done.
I will also remember the thank-yous, which always seemed to come at the right times. In 1983, a New York woman, the mother of an introverted boy, thanked me for teaching her son to ride a bike at camp. Eight years later, a girls basketball team sent me a card after I covered their heartbreaking run through a state tournament. In 2006, a Montana man thanked me for helping him reunite with a German woman he had met in the Army fifty years earlier. I was a reference librarian then, a person who loved to solve problems.
Now, I am a retiree, a soon-to-be Social Security recipient who can shop for senior discounts, take afternoon naps, and tell teenagers to get off my lawn. (Just kidding. I don't have a lawn.)
I don't plan to remain idle. I value time like most people value food and plan to put that time to good use. Sometime in January, after returning from a vacation in Puerto Rico, I will lay the groundwork for my next book, my next series, and my next course in life.
That's what I look forward to most. Retirement, for me, will not be an opportunity to rest. It will be a chance to do more. Much more.
Since that time, I have held no fewer than thirty jobs. In high school and college, I washed dishes, bagged groceries, flipped French fries, sold appliances, shelved books, delivered office supplies, counted people for a census, mentored boys at a summer camp, wrote articles, and answered phone calls for a congressman.
In one summer job, at a vegetable packing plant, I stood inside a small refrigerated chamber and broke up clumps of frozen peas on a moving conveyer belt. With a long rake. For eight hours a day.
All of the grunt jobs prepared me well for the "real" world, where I made my mark as a sportswriter, an editor, a librarian, and finally as an author. Each experience taught me patience, humility, discipline, responsibility, and many other things I applied in life.
Though most of these jobs are decades in the past, I remembered all of them today as I punched a time card for the last time and officially retired. Leaving my position as a computer lab assistant at a Las Vegas library brought fifty years of labor into focus.
When people work a wide variety of jobs, they learn a lot about themselves. When they work with a wide variety of people, they learn a lot about society. They learn things that give them perspective and a better understanding of the world around them.
I know I did. I not only learned things but also put them to use. In several novels, I borrowed from work experiences, particularly those as a grocery clerk, a newspaper reporter, and a librarian. In Camp Lake I did even more. I constructed an entire story around my memorable tenure at a summer camp in Maine in 1983. I expect to incorporate even more work experiences in future books.
In the meantime, I will look back. I will remember the unexpected rewards and the special times from five decades of working for "the man" and for myself. I will recall the moments that mattered.
Perhaps the biggest came in 1994, when I walked into a newsroom to a standing ovation. My peers, fellow editors and reporters at a daily newspaper in Washington, had just learned of my award in a regional journalism competition and let me know it. They took a moment from their busy schedules to acknowledge a job well done.
I will also remember the thank-yous, which always seemed to come at the right times. In 1983, a New York woman, the mother of an introverted boy, thanked me for teaching her son to ride a bike at camp. Eight years later, a girls basketball team sent me a card after I covered their heartbreaking run through a state tournament. In 2006, a Montana man thanked me for helping him reunite with a German woman he had met in the Army fifty years earlier. I was a reference librarian then, a person who loved to solve problems.
Now, I am a retiree, a soon-to-be Social Security recipient who can shop for senior discounts, take afternoon naps, and tell teenagers to get off my lawn. (Just kidding. I don't have a lawn.)
I don't plan to remain idle. I value time like most people value food and plan to put that time to good use. Sometime in January, after returning from a vacation in Puerto Rico, I will lay the groundwork for my next book, my next series, and my next course in life.
That's what I look forward to most. Retirement, for me, will not be an opportunity to rest. It will be a chance to do more. Much more.
Sunday, November 19, 2023
A last look at a series
The trilogy is now ten days old. The Duties and Dreams ebook came out November 9, the paperback yesterday. Even the Second Chance boxed set is in circulation. Yet the series, my fifth overall, is still fresh in my mind. It probably will be for weeks to come.
When you write a historical fiction series as detailed and exhaustive as Second Chance, you leave a little bit of yourself behind. I know I did. I am still getting used to a daily schedule that does not involve seven to eight hours of researching, writing, and editing. I plan to enjoy the hiatus between this project and the next. In the meantime, I intend to reflect a bit on my shortest — but arguably most important — series, one that will serve as a template for the next one.
The first thing you need to know about Second Chance is that it is a nod to Baby Boomers, the pampered, free-spirited, often-maligned mob I joined in 1961. If you were born between 1946 and 1964, you will immediately recognize the backgrounds of my protagonists, from their Leave it to Beaver beginnings to their personal and professional struggles in the 1960s, 1970s, and beyond. You will understand why the Carpenters did what they did when they wandered through 1906, 1912, and finally 1918.
I choose to write about old souls because I can relate to them. Like Bill, Paul, and Annie, I could relate to coming of age and growing old(er) in a world that was much different than today's. I could relate to at least some of their experiences, setbacks, and triumphs.
Annie was, by far, my favorite character — for many reasons. She brought energy and passion to the series and probably best personified its growth. She grew in ways her more set-in-their-ways older brothers could not or would not. She represented the best of her family and her generation. She acquitted herself well.
Cassie Lee, Charles Rusk, and Emilie Perot were my favorite secondary characters. All brought something to a trilogy that was as varied as the settings. Each helped the Carpenters grow.
If there was one thing I enjoyed most about producing this series, it was researching the events that shaped it. Though I knew a lot about the Titanic, I knew little about the San Francisco earthquake, the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, the Mexican Revolution, and even World War I. I knew even less about Baja California, Brooklyn, and Alsace, a storied French region I want to visit someday.
I also enjoyed returning to my native Northwest — Portland, Tacoma, and Mount Rainier make appearances in two books — and bringing children back into my work. From the students of Oakland Prep and Gotham Prep to Mabel Moss to Chloe the flower girl to the offspring of Bill and Annie, kids put their stamp on mostly grown-up stories. Bea and Millie Carpenter and Patrick and Henry Lee brought both comic relief and perspective to the Second Chance trilogy.
I put a stamp on the series, as well. As some readers know, I often use meaningful dates, places, and devices in my stories. I have used August 2, my wedding anniversary, more times than I can count. I occasionally use birthdays too — and, in the case of my latest release, I used the birthday. When I had the opportunity to end both Duties and Dreams and the Second Chance series on December 30, 1961, by moving up the last chapter by one day, I took it. When you are a writer of fiction, you can do those things.
I did not intend to tie the book's title to its dedication, but it happened anyway. Shortly after titling Duties and Dreams, I noticed that the book's initials (DAD) lined up nicely with the subject of its dedication page. Even before writing a word, I had decided to dedicate the novel to James Heldt, my father, who is still going at age 92.
As coincidences go, that was hard to beat. It was a fitting touch to a series I will no doubt think about for a long time.
When you write a historical fiction series as detailed and exhaustive as Second Chance, you leave a little bit of yourself behind. I know I did. I am still getting used to a daily schedule that does not involve seven to eight hours of researching, writing, and editing. I plan to enjoy the hiatus between this project and the next. In the meantime, I intend to reflect a bit on my shortest — but arguably most important — series, one that will serve as a template for the next one.
The first thing you need to know about Second Chance is that it is a nod to Baby Boomers, the pampered, free-spirited, often-maligned mob I joined in 1961. If you were born between 1946 and 1964, you will immediately recognize the backgrounds of my protagonists, from their Leave it to Beaver beginnings to their personal and professional struggles in the 1960s, 1970s, and beyond. You will understand why the Carpenters did what they did when they wandered through 1906, 1912, and finally 1918.
I choose to write about old souls because I can relate to them. Like Bill, Paul, and Annie, I could relate to coming of age and growing old(er) in a world that was much different than today's. I could relate to at least some of their experiences, setbacks, and triumphs.
Annie was, by far, my favorite character — for many reasons. She brought energy and passion to the series and probably best personified its growth. She grew in ways her more set-in-their-ways older brothers could not or would not. She represented the best of her family and her generation. She acquitted herself well.
Cassie Lee, Charles Rusk, and Emilie Perot were my favorite secondary characters. All brought something to a trilogy that was as varied as the settings. Each helped the Carpenters grow.
If there was one thing I enjoyed most about producing this series, it was researching the events that shaped it. Though I knew a lot about the Titanic, I knew little about the San Francisco earthquake, the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, the Mexican Revolution, and even World War I. I knew even less about Baja California, Brooklyn, and Alsace, a storied French region I want to visit someday.
I also enjoyed returning to my native Northwest — Portland, Tacoma, and Mount Rainier make appearances in two books — and bringing children back into my work. From the students of Oakland Prep and Gotham Prep to Mabel Moss to Chloe the flower girl to the offspring of Bill and Annie, kids put their stamp on mostly grown-up stories. Bea and Millie Carpenter and Patrick and Henry Lee brought both comic relief and perspective to the Second Chance trilogy.
I put a stamp on the series, as well. As some readers know, I often use meaningful dates, places, and devices in my stories. I have used August 2, my wedding anniversary, more times than I can count. I occasionally use birthdays too — and, in the case of my latest release, I used the birthday. When I had the opportunity to end both Duties and Dreams and the Second Chance series on December 30, 1961, by moving up the last chapter by one day, I took it. When you are a writer of fiction, you can do those things.
I did not intend to tie the book's title to its dedication, but it happened anyway. Shortly after titling Duties and Dreams, I noticed that the book's initials (DAD) lined up nicely with the subject of its dedication page. Even before writing a word, I had decided to dedicate the novel to James Heldt, my father, who is still going at age 92.
As coincidences go, that was hard to beat. It was a fitting touch to a series I will no doubt think about for a long time.
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