As much as I love writing, I have to confess an equal affection for playing music. The two are intimately related, I think: Words are like notes, each one selected to create a melody in the reader’s mind. A book’s characters are like individual instruments in an orchestra, and a book itself reminds me of a symphony, with slow and fast movements combining (one hopes) into a harmonious whole.
Here’s a recipe for Panamanian Fish Tacos, which will pair nicely with your dinner conversation about your favorite bits and scenes from The Mosquito God.
Today I answer a few Subscriber Questions about my pending (impending?) new release, The Mosquito God: Theodore Roosevelt’s Spy Game. Quite a few good ones came in after last week’s newsletter, and for the sake of brevity I’ve tried to pick out a few that are representative of recurring themes. If your question isn’t answered today, however, don’t give up the ship! I’ll either reply to you personally or pick out another few each week. I appreciate them all.
The justly world-famous Panama Canal, opened officially on August 15, 1914—almost 122 years ago to the day—transformed more than the world of oceanic commerce. It also brought with it revolutions in medicine and health, construction technology, and, um, revolution. So today, less than a month away from the appearance of my next novel, The Mosquito God: Theodore Roosevelt’s Spy Game, I offer a little quiz to see how much you really know about the ‘Big Ditch.’ Test your wits and enjoy!
My next full-length novel, The Mosquito God: Theodore Roosevelt’s Spy Game, is now available for preorder, releasing on October 6, everywhere you shop for books.
I have a little surprise for you—free!—a short story called Future Perfect.
In Future Perfect, the worlds of 1903 and 2026 collide temporarily via the good offices of a malfunctioning trolley—with what I think are interesting consequences.
In today's video, I demonstrate a gen-yoo-ine Gilded Age ‘trade stimulator’ from 1894, which not only offers a glimpse into saloon culture of the period, but will also show you why I don’t play Powerball.
A staple of Gilded Age kitchens and holiday picnic menus alike, salmon croquettes have remained beloved for generations thanks to their crisp exterior, tender center, and simple elegance.
The sense of smell, it is said, is the one most closely linked to memory.
Anyone who has been instantly transported back in personal time by the scent of burning leaves, baking cookies, or a favorite flower will agree. As would Marcel Proust, whose famous madeleine became the sponge-cake that launched a million words.
I happen to like shoes—a lot. Many men seem to take less delight in them than do the ladies, but not me! For a lot of my male friends, anyway, footwear is viewed either as an afterthought or as a downright nuisance.
In the Gilded Age, shoes refused to be an afterthought—though they could be a darned nuisance. Read on!
In today’s fourth installment (of four in total), we explore key facts and findings, and reveal the suspect behind six-year-old Marian’s Murphy’s murder, Watch the video and follow the clues with me.
In today’s third installment (of four in total), we explore the “investigation” around six-year-old Marian’s Murphy’s murder, examining the botched police investigation, community sentiment, and historical context.
Today we continue with Part Two of our four-part series on the unsolved 1902 abduction and murder of six-year-old Marian Murphy.
We begin to examine the immediate aftermath of Marian’s disappearance: the rather lackadaisical police investigation, strange comments by a neighbor, and the agonizing two-week-long wait for some clue, any clue, as to what became of little Marian.
Today we begin a multipart video series on a 1902 true crime I’ve been researching—not for a book but in the interest of justice.
It’s a tragic tale of a little girl who went out for penny candy . . . and never came home. Until now, I don’t believe anyone has come close to a solution. See what you think of mine.
