American History

Rising From the Dead

Posted by on Oct 19, 2018 in American History, Book: Mercy: The Last NE Vampire | 0 comments

2TPL6EHJDJC2JOZHB2JERXRW4EThe connection between disease and vampires is closer than you might think. This is a sad and eerie story about a graveyard of buried children in Rome. Faced with an outbreak of malaria, the community tried to find a way to stop it…by rituals that were supposed to keep the dead from rising.

 “It seems when humans are faced with the unknown, it’s been a very common reaction throughout our entire history to react with fear….I really feel deeply for this community that was dealing with this epidemic when they had no understanding of it,” said an archeologist working on the site.

The journalist who wrote the article didn’t mention that similar burials were reported in the 19th century in New England, when people were trying to control and understand outbreaks of tuberculosis. This was the inspiration for my ghost/vampire/mystery, Mercy.

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Happy Independence Day

Posted by on Jul 5, 2018 in American History, BOOK: The Eagle's Quill, Historical Fiction, Nonfiction, Race, Thomas Jefferson | 0 comments

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How to portray a woman who did not leave a photograph or a portrait behind her? Her shadow on the wall testifies to both her presence and her absence from much of the historical record.

It’s the Fifth of July (okay, posting a day late), so it’s appropriate to take a moment to be glad–perhaps “satisfied” is a better word–that Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s planation, has opened a new exhibit to explore and explain the life of Sally Hemings.

What should we call Sally Hemings? Jefferson’s slave? His mistress? His victim? His common-law-wife? His sister-in-law? Mother of his enslaved children?

Or how about simply a woman who had independence in her grasp but gave it up, only to work hard and negotiate skillfully to achieve independence for her children.

Sally Hemings features in my adaptation of Jon Meacham’s biography of Jefferson, Thomas Jefferson: President and Philosopher.

In his farm book, Jefferson recorded the fate of his crops and the details of the lives of his slaves. He coolly noted down the births of his own children with Sally Hemings. These children did not receive the tender care that Patsy’s and Polly’s boys and girls knew from their grandfather. Jefferson was apparently able to think of them as something entirely separate from his cherished life with his white family. “He was not in the habit of showing…fatherly affection to us as children,” said Jefferson’s son Madison Hemings.

She also gets a mention in Secrets of the Seven: The Eagle’s Quill.

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Artists at Eldredge

Posted by on May 18, 2018 in American History, Educators & Librarians, Events, School Visits, Secrets of the Seven, SERIES: Secrets of the Seven | 2 comments

Last week I was visiting schools in East Greenwich, RI. At Eldredge Elementary some very talented artists had created posters for me based on the first three books of the Secrets of the Seven series. Marvelous! I love seeing books inspire creativity.

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The Eureka Key

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The Eagle’s Quill. Note very faithful representation of the three main characters–Marty with her glasses, Sam in a cool tye-dyed sweatshirt, and Theo (very tall!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Ring of Honor. In this poster, Alexander Hamilton has joined our three heroes in a search through Manhattan for his grave. Cool and slightly creepy!

 

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The Poetry of Metal

Posted by on Jan 12, 2018 in American History, Press | 0 comments

KGrahamA few days ago, I slipped away from my desk to watch The Post. And loved it. Meryl Streep’s performance was a joy, sensitive and hesitant and powerful all at once; “I am speaking to Mr. Bradlee now” is one of my new favorite lines in film.

One moment stuck with me: watching the printers slot the metal type into place to run that first edition with news of the Pentagon papers. There is something so gorgeous, so solid and precise and elegant, about a page of metal type set to run, glistening with ink, all the letters reversed so that the elegant bars and curves of the font seem fresh to the eye. And then the whole building vibrating with the impact of the press, the reporter’s pencils dancing on their desks. Force of words made manifest.

Now, I love all the convenience of digital everything as much as the next writer; I love the swiftness and ease of editing when sentences and paragraphs are feather light and can be moved from here to there with the tap of a key. But I miss the sturdy beauty of real type and real ink.

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