By law, by Church doctrine, and by the unspoken consent of a society, power was a man’s possession in the Florentine Republic of the Quattrocento. A woman passed as property from her father to her husband. Her purpose, as the age defined it, was procreation and domestic service. Non-conformity was frowned upon, and in extreme […]
Women’s Power in A Tale of Paris & Paris: Echoes of Troy Read More »
There is a Latin pun at the heart of medieval Dominican identity so perfect it could only have been God’s own joke—or the devil’s. Domini canes: the Hounds of the Lord. It sounds almost exactly like Dominicanus, the Latin name for a member of the Order of Preachers founded by Saint Dominic in the early
William Morris believed the book as physical object was itself a work of art, that typography, layout, and illustration were not secondary to the text but coequal with it. I agree with him. Unconditionally. This is not a fashionable position. The publishing industry has spent decades treating book design as a downstream function. It is
On Being Your Own Designer, Typesetter, and Publisher Read More »
There are scenes in A Tale of Paris & Paris: Echoes of Troy that unsettle readers who arrive with their assumptions intact. The inquisitors who descend upon Cortona in 1450 are not the black-and-white Dominicans of legend, the Domini canes, the Hounds of God, the scholastic terrors immortalized in every gothic retelling of the medieval
The Inquisition Was Not Exclusively Dominican: Franciscans Also Investigated Read More »
There is a thread that runs through everything I write. It does not announce itself. It does not appear in chapter summaries or back-cover copy. But it is there in every novel, in every narrator’s voice, in every reunion between characters who meet for what the plot calls the first time and recognize each other
The Cosmological Thread: Souls Finding Each Other Across Lifetimes Read More »
There is a moment known to every writer who has ever chosen a nom de plume when the invented name becomes more real than the given one. I cannot say when that moment arrived for me. I know only that it has. The name Edmond Thornfield was not assembled at random. Each of its two
The Pen Name and the Alter Ego: Who Is Edmond Thornfield? Read More »
There is a particular dishonesty that runs through a great deal of fiction written by and about men, a tendency to grant male characters the external architecture of complexity without the internal substance of it. Men in such novels have ambitions, rivalries, codes of honor, and moments of violence, but their inner lives remain largely
On Ovid, Myth, and Historical Imagination There is a question every novelist must answer, if only to themselves: why this story, and why now? For me the answer arrived not gradually but all at once, in the final lines of a myth I had known for years without truly seeing. Ovid tells Atalanta‘s story across
People sometimes ask me why I write the way I do. The question usually comes wrapped in a polite puzzlement, as if the asker suspects a rational explanation must exist but cannot quite locate it. Occasionally it comes less politely: “People don’t talk like that.” True enough. They didn’t talk like that even then, not
The Art of the Archaic: How I Choose Words and Expressions Read More »
There are journeys one spends a lifetime preparing for without knowing it. Mine to Archaia Neméa began, as so many things do, in childhood—with a book. I was perhaps seven years of age when my beloved Madrinha Ionyr placed in my hands a children’s volume of the Twelve Labours of Hēraklēs on my birthday. I
Following in the Footsteps of Hēraklēs to Archaia Neméa Read More »
