Making Scents of History
When one stops to think about it, writing and reading are preposterous endeavors. With straight lines of rune-like ink squiggles, the writer creates landscapes, events, emotions, and personalities. Readers who most likely have never met the...
Seeing Double
While researching Ghost Warrior, the story of the Chiricahua Apache woman Lozen who rode as a warrior with the men, I was surprised to find photos of stereoscope cards. Photographs were in plentiful supply in the mid-1800's, of course. Shortly after...
Just call me Lucia Minutia
When I give talks on writing historical fiction, I mention that 75% of the work is organization. I don't have an eidetic memory, so finding all those thousands of details is of no use if I can't remember where they are when they're needed. Thirty-six years...
A Yankee Doodle Macaroni and the First Fourth of July
Why would an 18th-century citizen call a feather macaroni? Here's the answer: After touring Europe, young men of means would return home wearing the exaggerated fashions they saw there, particularly in Italy. Since macaroni was about the only Italian word folks back...
My Dead and Imaginary Friends
In the thirty-six years I've been writing, I've acquired a fractious pack of rascally friends, both dead and imaginary. Which explains why this is my all-time favorite cartoon. Robert Bloch once wrote, "I roll a piece of paper into the typewriter, load it with...
The Ghost Warriors
This is the very talented Maria D'Angelo's portrait of Lozen, the Apache woman who rode as a warrior with the men in the second half of the 19th century. Maria's compelling image of her hangs in its frame on my wall and it impresses me every day. The Apaches called...
Cooking up a devilish story
Meet my late, great next-door neighbor, Noni, on the far left, back row. She fit this description of Faye, on page 20 of Devilish. "Faye believed in seers and psychics, alien abductions and etheric forces. She channeled a third century sage named...
The Barefoot Artist
Twenty-five years ago I met the Barefoot Artist, Guy Labree, and his wife Pat at an outdoor exhibit of Seminole crafts, needlework, and art in Naples, Florida. Guy was a third generation Floridian. When he was a youngster, his Seminole friends would invite him to...