Hurricane memories, and writing update

Photo credit: Laura Adai. Unsplash license.

I don’t follow the news obsessively, but my impression is that, in terms of Hurricane Milton, things could have been a lot worse. It seems as if the storm hit with less force than expected. No doubt there has been great loss and suffering, but apparently it might have been worse.

Almost as if our prayers had efficacy.

So I’ll come out and say it, and let the skeptics laugh at me (since they will anyway) – thanks and praise be to God.

I can never forget my Florida years, when I lived in a mobile home and ruminated much on hurricanes in my lonely bed. One year a bad one (I think it was called Aaron. Or Erin) hit while I was on vacation in Minnesota. I came home to find my tin house almost unscathed – but the screen porch had been excised as neatly as if by a surgeon’s knife. The only damage to the main structure was a slit in a window screen.

That looked like divine timing in my case. I had recently lost my job, and I took the insurance money for the porch and lived on it, until I got work back home in the north. I sold the house without a porch.

I am currently in the toils of shaping The Elder King up for its paperback regeneration. I’m finding more than one spot where I’d like to do some re-writing, but I am practicing restraint. I don’t want the e-book and the dead tree version to be too different from one another. I only change obvious – and small – errors. Mostly.

But I just discovered that a certain character, when I introduced him in this book, looked differently from the way I describe him in The Baldur Game. Which means I’ll have to dip into TBG and make some changes tomorrow. I guess it’s another divine providence that publication has been delayed.

Though I have no doubt there are myriad inconsistencies I’ve missed completely, and with which I’ll just have to live.

Well-Crafted Start to a Series: Memory Man by David Baldacci

Guest Review by Adam H. Douglas

Memory Man is the first book that launched a best-selling series of novels by David Baldacci back in 2015. It’s a tight, expertly crafted novel that effectively achieves what it sets out to do—to give us a creepy, thrilling read that keeps you guessing until the end.  

Amos Decker, a former football player turned detective, suffers a life-altering tragedy when he discovers the brutal murder of his wife, Cassie, his young daughter, Molly, and his brother-in-law, Johnny, in their home. Returning from a fruitless stakeout, Decker finds Johnny with his throat slit, Cassie shot in the head, and Molly strangled. Baldacci’s well-honed writing skills describe the scene with a haunting efficiency.  

Fifteen months later, we find Decker living in a state of emotional numbness, his life in disarray, drifting in and out of homelessness. He desperately wants to die but cannot seem to find the will to kill himself. 

Not sure what else to do with his broken existence, he becomes a private investigator and scrapes by on low-paying cases. The trauma of losing his family never leaves him, intensified by his unique condition—hyperthymesia—which forces him to remember every detail of his past. He can’t forget anything, including the faces of his dead family.

As Decker struggles with the weight of his loss, his old partner—a great tough-as-nails supporting character named Mary Lancaster—tracks him down to let him know that a man named Sebastian Leopold has walked into police custody and confessed to the murder of Decker’s family. 

The confession sparks conflicting emotions in Decker—anger, suspicion, and a desperate need for closure. Decker questions the man’s motivations and credibility while revisiting the crime that destroyed his life.

Worse still, the chaos of the situation is intensified by a nearby high school shooting that leaves several dead. Incredibly, the shooter escapes and is still at large. Local police are baffled by the crime and are strained almost to the breaking point. Based on Lancaster’s recommendation, they take on Decker as a consultant to help solve the case. 

But Decker is beginning to suspect that the cases are linked. And that Decker himself might be the ultimate target of the mass killer.  

Bestselling author and former lawyer David Baldacci is widely known for his thrillers and suspense novels featuring complex characters, fast-paced plots, and legal or political themes. His debut novel, Absolute Power (1996), was adapted into a film starring Clint Eastwood. He’s written over fifty novels in almost thirty years.

In short, Baldacci knows his stuff. And it shows here. 

Memory Man is a solid, tight thriller that keeps you turning pages and guessing almost the whole way through. It’s no wonder why this novel—with its complex, gritty lead character—launched a best-selling series of seven books so far (Note: the eighth is due to drop sometime this year). 

The book’s main failing appears when we finally learn the solution to how the school shooter escaped. Rather than a revelation, the killer’s motives and methods come across as a somewhat unnecessarily intricate plot point that confuses more than entertains. 

True, this is a common problem with villains in American thrillers, which the public demands must create ever-increasingly complex and psychopathic plans to torture our heroes both mentally and physically. So, I’ll easily overlook this minor hiccup in what is ultimately a very worthy read. 


Guest Bio: Adam H. Douglas is a full-time writer and ghostwriter with over two decades of experience in nonfiction, science fiction, speculative fiction, and horror fantasy fiction. Adam’s award-winning short stories have appeared in various publications, including the Eerie River Publishing anthology “It Calls From the Doors,” I/O Magazine, Forbes, Business Insider, and many more.

Photo by Klim Musalimov on Unsplash

Leif Eriksson Day 2024

Painting of Leif Eriksson by the Norwegian artist Christian Krohg. Krohg liked his models, male and female, to have a little meat on their bones.

I’m thinking a lot about the people of Florida today. I lived there eleven years, you know, and if I still lived in my old house, I’d be in the path – though on the opposite side of the state, so chances are the damage will be less there. But many a night I lay in bed thinking about hurricanes. More about that, perhaps, tomorrow.

I feel I should acknowledge Leif Eriksson Day, a holiday we Norwegians love to talk about, but rarely do much to celebrate. Heaven knows it’s my busy time of the year.

Leif Eriksson features in the Netflix series, Vikings: Valhalla, the sequel to the History Channel Vikings series. It should not have surprised me that they made him about 40 years younger than he actually was and sent him gallivanting around Eastern Europe and the Mediterranean as sidekick to a young Harald Hardrada.

The story of the discovery of America (Vinland) in the sagas is recounted in two different sagas, The Greenlanders’ Saga and The Saga of Erik the Red, which feature enough similarities to argue for a common factual basis, but which are quite different in content. One version (I forget which offhand) says America was first sighted by a man named Bjarni Herjulfsson, who did not go ashore. Leif, when Bjarni finally arrived in Greenland, bought his ship and went to the new country himself. The other saga credits the first sighting to Leif himself. Either way, Leif is the first Norseman to actually go ashore in Vinland.

Most stories about Leif mention that he was the first missionary to Greenland. That’s a somewhat complex issue, in fact. The saga says that King Olaf Trygvesson (whom you may recall from The Year of the Warrior) commissioned Leif to take the gospel back to his home, where he had good success with his message, except in his father’s case. His father, Erik the Red, rejected the new faith violently, and it caused a separation with his wife, Leif’s mother Thjodhild.

However, historians today tend to doubt that account. They note (and I’m talking from memory here, because for the life of me I can’t find documentation, though I know I’ve read it in more than one book) that early accounts of Olaf Trygvesson’s life say he “evangelized five lands” (I think it was five), while later accounts make it seven lands. One of the extra lands – added centuries later – seems to have been Greenland. Hence, they assume that the Greenland business was invented later in time and just appended to the list by later writers.

For my own part, I decided to square the circle in my novels. I portray Leif as a Christian (which is perfectly plausible) but say nothing (as far as I recall) about Olaf’s commission.

The foundations of a tiny church have been found in Greenland, near the farmstead identified today as Brattahlid, Erik’s and Leif’s home. This seems to corroborate a passage in the sagas that says that Thjodhild built a private church out of sight of the house, so her husband wouldn’t have to look at it.

However, I spoke to a man at the Viking Festival in Green Bay last weekend, who told me about a tour he’d taken to Greenland. There he met a man who believes he has good archaeological evidence that the farm identified as Brattahlid today is not the real one. He locates Brattahlid further up the fjord.

In any case, I do consider Leif a Christian. So I resolve to celebrate his holiday.

Next year, for sure.

The Viking house in Green Bay

I am (once again) reading a very long book, and so will be a while getting to my next review. As I pondered what to post tonight, it occurred to me to check whether there was any video about the Viking House that formed the centerpiece for the Midwest Viking Festival in Green Bay – from which I returned on Sunday.

And behold, there is one. This seems to be a promotional video, produced before the house was relocated to Green Bay, touting the idea of making it part of the campus.

The house is in a form called a “grind house,” after the “grind” (rhymes with “wind,” I think) which is a section of the house comprising its length between the sets of internal pillars. The buildings are constructed in an almost modular fashion, as I understand it.

The video features my new friend Owen Christianson and his wife Elspeth. Owen is – as I mentioned yesterday – a physicist. He also has a black belt in karate (I kid you not).

All in all, a formidable individual.

Festival report, Green Bay 2024

The Midwest Viking Festival in Green Bay is, once again, history (in two senses). I made the four-hour-plus drive to and from without incident, and had an excellent time.

I shared a motel room with the experimental archaeologist who oversaw the construction of the Viking House, on the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay campus, that is the centerpiece of the encampment. His name is Owen Christianson and he is a physicist (I really didn’t understand his descriptions of his work, but it has something to do with electromagnetics) by day. He’s also a recognized folk artist, and I once took his class in making wooden stave vessels. He was by himself this year because his wife was unable to come along. I was somewhat daunted by his credentials at first, but we actually found a lot to talk about, and parted good friends.

The festival itself runs Friday and Saturday. Friday is a day for school groups; it went okay, but was rather quiet. I feared we were losing public enthusiasm. But Saturday, as it was last year, was a madhouse, and people bought up nearly my whole stock of Viking Legacy (I’d brought extra this year) along with a fair quantity of my novels. I was in no wise disappointed.

As is more and more the case these days, the hard part for me was setting up, tearing down, and packing the car. I’m getting too old for this stuff, I fear, but I expect to keep at it for a while. I’m too proud to hang it up, I imagine, until I actually hurt myself. (Much thanks to Andy and Missy, especially, for helping me tote that barge and lift that bale.)

We got handsome coverage from a local TV station, and I was fortunate enough to get a lot of the air time. I’m the devilishly handsome man in the blue tunic, in case you were wondering.

Sunday Singing: Let All the World in Every Corner Sing

Today’s hymn comes from the great George Herbert (1593-1633). He wrote many poems, which were well received at first, but as hymns few found popular acceptance despite the encouragement of John and Charles Wesley in 1739. Above is an arrangement of “Let All the World in Every Corner Sing” by the great Ralph Vaughan Williams, not really congregational singing but it fits the grandeur of the piece.

“Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous works among all the peoples!” (Ps 96:3 ESV)

1 Let all the world in every corner sing,
“My God and King!”
The heav’ns are not too high,
God’s praise may thither fly;
the earth is not too low,
God’s praises there may grow.
Let all the world in every corner sing,
“My God and King!”

2 Let all the world in every corner sing,
“My God and King!”
The church with psalms must shout:
no door can keep them out.
But, more than all, the heart
must bear the longest part.
Let all the world in every corner sing,
“My God and King!”

Douthat Novel in Serial and Pranking Academic Journals

Fantasy: Ross Douthat has written a fantasy novel and is releasing it as a serial via Substack. Author Frederick Gero Heimbach reports Douthat shopped his novel around but no traditional publisher would take it. You can start that novel, The Falcon’s Children, here. Heimbach also laments that sci-fi author Tim Powers no longer has a publisher.

Quotations: Here’s a great example of how asking the simple question, “Who said that?” or “Who was the first to say that?” can lead to nowhere interesting. Consider the origin of this statement: “Thinking is the hardest work many people ever have to do, and they don’t like to do any more of it than they can help.”

Quote Investigator also points out that AI programs can miss what doesn’t seem possible to miss, as in a line in an Edgar Allen Poe story.

Pranking Academic Journals: I remember the journal article Boghossian refers to as the one that busted them (the dog park article) and I thought I blogged about it at the time, but perhaps I didn’t. I tend to shy away from topics even loosely related to sex. In this video from Dad Saves America, Boghossian discusses his attempt to expose peer-reviewed journals that are willing to publish any nonsense that falls within accepted dogma. It’s incredible.

Into enemy territory — the Midwest Viking Festival in Green Bay

I am, of course, keenly aware of the irony of holding a Viking festival in Green Bay, Wisconsin, home of the Packers. Yet so it is. Life does not always make sense, as I think Nietzsche observed.

In any case, I plan (by God’s travel mercies) to be at the Midwest Viking Festival this Friday and Saturday, selling my books in the ancient Norse manner. I guess I’ll also be doing some kind of presentation. Come and see if you’re in the area.

‘Video Vikings and Christian Conversion’

I now have an article available for your perusal over at the Acton Institute’s Religion & Liberty Online.

‘Right Ho, Jeeves,’ by P. G. Wodehouse

“You have a splendid, chivalrous soul.”

“Not a bit.”

“Yes, you have. You remind me of Cyrano.”

“Who?”

“Cyrano de Bergerac.”

“The chap with the nose?”

“Yes.”

I can’t say I was any too pleased. I felt the old beak furtively. It was a bit on the prominent side, perhaps, but, dash it, not in the Cyrano class. It began to look as if the next thing this girl would do would be to compare me to Schnozzie Durante.

I suppose there must be a time when it would be a mistake to read a P. G. Wodehouse novel, but I can’t think of one offhand. And for this reader, the Jeeves and Wooster stories are supreme. It’s Bertie Wooster’s narration that makes all the difference.

Opinions differ, naturally, on what is the best J&W novel, but I think Right Ho, Jeeves must be in anybody’s top two or three. John Le Carre called it one of his all-time favorite novels. An internet poll in 2009 voted it the best comic novel ever penned by an English writer. Published in 1934, RH,J was Wodehouse’s second full-length Jeeves novel. Critics have noted that these first two books share the common theme of Bertie attempting to assert himself in the face of Jeeves’ intelligence and personality; that element was reduced in later stories. But it can’t have been because it was ineffective as a plot element – it’s irresistible.

When we join our heroes, Bertie has just returned from a holiday in Cannes. He soon clashes with his valet Jeeves over his new dinner jacket – a “white mess jacket with brass buttons” that was all the rage on the Riviera that summer. Bertie insists that he will wear the garment, creating a coldness between master and servant.

So when Bertie gets word that his cousin Angela Travers has broken her engagement to his old friend Tuppy Glossop, he refuses to appeal to Jeeves to solve the problem, but comes up with a plan of his own. Similarly, when his old school chum Gussie Fink-Nottle tells him he can’t work up the nerve to propose to Madeline Bassett (a girl Bertie considers too goopy to live, but just right for the feckless Gussie) he hands him a scheme of his own (based on “the psychology of the individual”).

Needless to say, all Bertie’s plans lead to disaster, and in the end only Jeeves’ fantastic brain can bring about a resolution – a resolution that will involve a considerable amount of discomfort for Bertie himself. One notes a certain refined vindictiveness in Jeeves here, but it’s the affectionate vindictiveness of a parent who wants to teach an errant child a lesson they won’t forget.

No review of Right Ho, Jeeves would be complete without a mention of the classic scene when Gussie, drunk as a lord for the first time in his life, distributes prizes to students at Market Snodsbury grammar school. Here is farce raised to Olympian heights.

What a treat. If you haven’t read Right Ho, Jeeves, do yourself a favor.