“That’s not accurate” they said inaccurately

In The Hollywood History of the World, historical novelist George Macdonald Fraser (no relation) looks at historical movies and at one point discusses critics who have no idea of history. One review of the movie Shalako scoffed at Sean Connery’s accent — seriously were we supposed to believe there were Scots running around the Old West? Yes, actually, there were.

This is a problem writers deal with a lot, particularly if they’re writing historical fiction: readers “know” the history and get thrown when their confronted with the real one. Case in point, some years back I was reading Southern Discomfort to a couple of beta readers. In one of the early chapters, FBI Agent Rachel Cohen is interviewing local resident Liz Mitchell about events in Pharisee. Among the books on Liz’s shelves is The Andromeda Strain. My beta readers reaction: wrong! Your book is set in 1973 and Michael Crichton wasn’t writing that long ago, was he?

He was, of course. But I imagine if they don’t think so, some of my readers may likewise think it’s a mistake. However I will take that chance (it’s not an essential detail to the story but I like it).

Another reader objected when I had a character reading “some comic book about the Black Panthers” — meaning the beginning the “Panther’s Rage” arc in Jungle Action. My reader pointed out the cover date is September of 1973 and my story’s back in May. I explained that cover dates back then were invariably several months after the publication date, to keep retailers yanking them off the spinner racks at the end of the month. Apparently this is not as well known as when I was a kid. Since I really like that detail, I won’t be changing it either. Hopefully readers will still be engaged, even if they think I’m wrong and I’m not there to explain.

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E. Jean Carroll, Jeffrey Epstein and another nasty rape case

E. Jean Carroll won a defamation lawsuit against the Toddler with the jury agreeing that he sexually assaulted her. As the Toddler believes he should never suffer any consequences for anything he’s done, his mob mouthpiece Todd Blanche— is now suing her. More detail here. As Paul Campos says, “we should judge every lawyer working in that office, and in every other office in the DOJ, on the following basis: You have found yourself in a position where you are working as an attorney not for the United States of America, which is the job you thought you signed up for, but rather for Donald Trump, because the DOJ is now Donald Trump’s personal law firm. Do you want to be Donald Trump’s lawyer, which means being a mob lawyer for a mob boss, doing mob lawyer things? No? Then quit. Today.” The corruption is inescapable.

2)The Toddler sent a suggestive nudge-nudge, wink-wink birthday card to Jeffrey Epstein, something the Wall Street Journal wrote about. The Toddler is once again suing the WSJ for hurting his snowflake fee-fees and reminding everyone how desperate he and Todd Blanche are not to dig too deeply into the Epstein files. Hmm, wonder why? Pam Bondi, ex-AG, refuses to talk about the cover-up to Congress, and says it’s all Blanche’s fault.

“Three teenage boys have walked out of court in Hampshire without having served a single minute of jail time between them, despite being found guilty of raping two girls. The girls, then aged 15 and 14, were attacked in separate, deeply harrowing incidents in November 2024 and January 2025 by two 14-year-old boys. A third boy, then 13, was convicted for his involvement in the second assault, during which the boys egged one another on, laughed, and filmed the assault on their phones, later sharing the footage online …. The judge, Nicholas Rowland, said that he wanted to avoid “criminalising” the “very young” boys. Boys who, you might say, criminalised themselves the moment they decided to subject two young girls to prolonged sexual attacks from which they will never fully move on, one of them at knifepoint.”

Young, yes. So young they couldn’t conceive what they were doing was bad? Nope. Young people do stupid shit but this ain’t stupid or an error in judgment, it’s deliberate cruelty. And yet “the judge also praised the boys for their conduct during the trial. These girls were forced through the ordeal of a five-week criminal trial in which the boys denied responsibility and sought to discredit them. One claimed the second victim had been “flirting” with him and lied to explain her absence to her parents. He denied using a knife.” One of the mitigating factors the judge cited was that one boy had a “limited concept of consent.” That’s an argument against him, not for him.

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Three covers with Bad Girls, one with just heads

This cover doesn’t work for me — it adds nothing to the cover copy at the top, doesn’t show anything about the book except that it involves … well, people.

This one is more effective in catching the eye, and conveys a sense of story even without the cover copy.

This one too, a 1945 novel showing a situation — misguided passion during wartime — that lots of people experienced. Some discussion of the book and the author here. And like The Tigress it’s a more interesting scene than the floating heads.

And here we have an example of that classic sub-genre of Southern fiction, the Sexy Swamp Chick. The image doesn’t tell a story but it does sell the book.

All cover art is uncredited and all rights remain with current holders.

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Stance over substance

As I wrote some 15 years ago, many Republicans prefer someone who says the right things, even if they’re a sleazebag and hypocrite in private, over an ethical liberal. A faithfully married liberal who supports gay rights and opposes patriarchy is morally inferior to someone who’s banging their secretary but mouths the right platitudes about chastity, slut-shaming and gay-bashing. Sure, maybe they didn’t live up to their stated standards, but that makes them human, not immoral cesspools with no values like liberals (it’s a given for a certain type of conservative that liberals don’t have a different moral code, they have no morals at all). Or that no matter what someone’s done in the past, Christianity is all about forgiveness. A standard conservatives never apply to any Christian who’s not on their team.

As I pointed out elsewhere on this blog, trying and failing to be a good person does not make you a hypocrite. However if you then lie about your failings (“I would never look at porn online!”) you’re sliding into hypocrisy. And in many cases, particularly in politics, there’s no reason to think the hypocrite was even trying. Someone mouthing “moral” sentiments may not believe in any of them, as witness how quickly some companies dropped any support for DEI when it became inconvenient.

As noted at the first link, George W. Bush dodged the draft by his own admission but gave lip-service support to the Vietnam War. John Kerry served with honor but criticized the war. Conservatives who swore they despised Clinton as a draft dodger were all in on supporting W and treating him as a war-hero jet-jockey badass (by the time he took office, he’d been grounded from flying because he blew off a National Guard physical checkup back in 1973); Kerry was a traitor and probably faked his war wounds. Which was a lie — Kerry simply had the wrong stance on the war, and that mattered more than what he did.

The same thing is happening now with James Talarico, the Dem Senate candidate in Texas. He’s a Christian and apparently a moral, decent person so they hate him. And claim he’s a pedophile or at least gay. Or (gasp) vegan so he doesn’t understand Texas barbecue (Talarico quipped that he’s been eating barbecue since before opponent Ken Paxton’s first indictment for corruption). Or at least his girlfriend is vegan!! Or Talarico sacrificing children to Moloch (this could be a Qanon reference or simply a metaphor for abortion).

The same thing pollutes how right-wingers deal with sex. It’s been documented that comprehensive sex education coupled with access to birth control reduces teenage pregnancy and abortion rates. Republicans have a documented history of killing programs like that while supporting abstinence only sex ed that prevents nothing — not STDs, not pregnancy, not abortion. Because what’s important is not preventing abortion or pregnancy but sending the right message — teenage girls should not have sex! If they don’t want to get pregnant they should keep their legs closed!

Ditto the obsession with performing masculinity: Florida Republican Dan Weldon has quipped that — well, see for yourself.

As John Rogers says at the link, “I have to ask as a 59 year old straight guy who’s been married 34 years, worked on a pipeline, tagged a lot of markers for traditional masculinity — isn’t doing this gender thing all the fucking time exhausting? How do these people get through the day running ‘gender performance’ code?” Yes, I imagine it is, but it’s better than someone thinking you’re the unmanly one. Idiotic arguments like Weldon not only supposedly serve to other Talarico as Not A Real Man, they implicitly affirm Weldon is — he could sure identify obscure wide receivers! He’s got three Y chromosomes dude!

As Liz Plank put it a while back, “The men running the internet aren’t just controlling the narrative, they’re starring in their own all-male drag show, desperately performing masculinity for each other. Musk, Zuckerberg, and their billionaire boy band are so obsessed with proving who’s the most alpha that they’ve lost the plot. They’re not exuding strength; they’re just insecure men rigging platforms and rewriting algorithms like a group of closeted frat boys terrified of being the least manly guy in the room. At this point, their version of masculinity isn’t just fragile, it’s camp.”

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Books on radium poisoning, slave trading and nuclear fear — do I know how to have fun or what?

Back before digital watches and cell phones existed, watches with luminous hands and numerals were cool — trust me, I used to have one and I loved it. A century ago, the luminous paint got its glow from the wondrous new element radium; THE RADIUM GIRLS: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women by Kate Moore tells the story of how the women who painted the hands and the numbers began suffering mysterious, horrifying ailments. Jaws decaying. Cancers. Hair loss. As radium was a miracle substance that promoted and boosted human health, it couldn’t possibly have anything to do with their day job … could it?

At first it appears the company was genuinely clueless about its employees health problems. When it became clear that licking the paintbrushes to keep the tip from spreading (this was precision work) was poisoning them (even without that, there was enough radium dust flying around to be a problem), the company followed the usual corporate pattern. Lie. Obfuscate. False studies and lying experts. It took years before they were held liable for anything.

Moore does an excellent job showing the victims as individuals rather than statistics; it’s startling to realize most of them were around 15 or 16 years old and working full time. But as other histories point out, teenagers in this era were typically seen as young adults, not older kids. Moore tries too hard to end with a sunny conclusion — most of her speculations about how this tragedy influenced worker safety going forward did not convince me.

THE LEDGER AND THE CHAIN: How Domestic Slave Traders Shaped America by Joshua D. Rothman spotlights three slave traders — John Armfield, Rice Ballard and Isaac Franklin — who worked together to build one of the most successful slave-trading operations of the 19th century and thereby became wealthy.

The book shows internal slave trading — shipping excess slaves from one part of the country to plantations with a shortage — was an incredibly lucrative career choice. It was also a business that other than treating humans as property, operating like any other. Establishing lines of credit and accepting promissory notes (with the risk that some buyers wouldn’t pay off). Forming partnerships with banks and shipping companies. Arranging for places to hold their slaves until the sale.

In the case of Armfield, Ballard and Franklin, they had the money to buy their own ships and holding pens, then make more money renting them out to other traders. They also worked hard to navigate a constantly changing legal landscape; after Nat Turner’s revolt, several states banned shipping new slaves into their territory so the company had to find ways around them.

While films often portray slave dealers as low-class sleazeballs — the kind of people genteel Southern plantes could barely tolerate — Rothman’s book shows they were perfectly acceptable in polite Southern society, particularly when they got as rich as these three. Rothman never forgets the horror of what they’re doing either, from the families sundered to the brutal transportation conditions to the female slaves raped (the men found this one of the perks of their business). A brilliant book on the subject, though it does leave me feeling like going back in time and killing people.

BY THE BOMB’S EARLY LIGHT: American Thought and Culture at the Dawn of the Atomic Age by Paul S. Boyer is the book that inspired me to rewatch The Atomic Cafe. The bombing of Hiroshima was one of those events that divided the world into Before and After; the news that a single bomb could reduce an entire city to ruins left Americans excited (the war was over, we had the ultimate weapon) and terrified — how long before some other nation did to New York or Chicago what we did to Hiroshima and Nagasaki?

American reactions were all over the map the next few years. Fantasies about the miracles of atomic power used for peace. Sane voices pointing out that nuclear powered taxis would probably never be a thing. Country Western songs about the bomb. Debates over whether now was the time to build a world government to ensure peace, or at least set up international control of nukes. Every profession and field weighed in: the ABA insisted lawyers could make a one-world government happen, classics teachers suggested when atomic power gave us more free time they’d steer people to the books to red. Christians debated whether nuclear war could ever be moral. Movies such as Beginning of the End grappled with the new atomic world; later SF treated radiation as a form of handwavium for anything from Peter Parker’s powers to the giant ants of Them.

Concern ebbed and flowed over the next few years, then the government began churning out reassuring propaganda — the bomb wouldn’t destroy an American city, Hiroshima was the fault of shoddy construction! Yes, radiation can cause cancer, but so can sunlight! In this fashion we settled down into an uneasy peace where the growing number of nuclear weapons was scary, but nothing we couldn’t live with. Specialized but interesting.

All rights to images remain with current holders.

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When the Bad Guys battled Leverage, it was like a bomb went off! Movies and TV

The first season of THE BAD GUYS: The Series, showed them climbing to the top of the city’s Worst of the Worst List. The second season switches from caper stories to character: Snake discovering his mother is remarrying, Wolf meeting his old mentor DB Cougar (doesn’t go well), the world’s first-ever criminal thawing out of suspended animation, plus new encounters with rival gangs (the Gruff Goats, the Night Owls).

Finally they get back to crimeing, launch the greatest winning streak since the legendary Crimson Paw (who plays a large role in the Bad Guys movie). Enter Tara Ripper, a vigilante who’s determined to take down the city’s #1 crimesters, and might be smart enough to do it. The series builds up enough added characters I’m surprised it ends here, but the meteor shower at the finish clearly leads into the movie. “I always thought goats fainting were a myth, like white pizza or chiropractors.”

The 2008-2012 series Leverage took a team of crooks headed by the world’s best insurance investigator (Timothy Hutton) to take on the kind of rich, powerful people who take what they want — against them, the team provides leverage. Which is not a new concept (“criminals the law can’t touch” have been the antagonists in multiple TV series and pilots) but here it worked. In 2021, the team returned, absent Hutton but adding Noah Wylie, for LEVERAGE: Redemption, which wrapped up its third and final season last year.

The premise is that in the years since the first series, the team — led primarily by master thief Parker (Beth Riesgraf) — have expanded into an international operation (they have the money). The second season stories focus again on corporate wrongdoing that ruins the lives of regular people, from peddling bogus woo as miracle cures to greenwashing. Plus oddball cases such as a writer presenting himself as the mastermind of the team in a new book — what’s up with that? And what happens when someone kidnaps the guy to make use of his (non-existent) skills? It’s a fun season that lives up to the original show. “Squirrels and other indigenous wildlife chewing through wires have caused 1,300 blackouts in the United States in the past five years.”

After I finished By the Bomb’s Early Light (details tomorrow) I rewatched 1982’s THE ATOMIC CAFE, an antinuclear film assembled out of sections of 1940s and 1950s pro-nuclear and Cold War films. Bikini Islanders smiling happily as their friend Uncle Sam relocates them before the atomic test. Someone explaining how shopping malls mark the difference between Americanism and Communism (“With plenty of free parking for all the cars we capitalists seem to acquire.”). County and Western songs about the bomb (there were a few) playing in the background. Cartoon character Burt the Turtle showing kids the infamous “duck and cover” drills — I’d forgotten that if they don’t have a desk to hide under, simply curling up in a ball on the ground was supposedly the solution. And assuring soldiers radiation is no threat — if you were close enough to get radiation poisoning, the blast would have killed you anyway (if you want more on the government’s myth-making about radiation, I recommend the horrific The Plutonium Files). The documentary does a good job situating all this in the framework of the Cold War, however cynical (justifiably) it is about some of the snake oil the government peddled in that era. “I am not an ‘atomic playboy’ as one of my critics labeled me.”

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Well, this week could have gone better

Tuesday, the HVAC repair crew showed up with the part to fix our air conditioning. After nine days with no a/c we were excited, though half fearful something else would go wrong.

Something else did. Turns out the compressor broke because something called a TVX broke so they had to order a TVX replacement. That left us broken and miserable the rest of the day. I wound up missing writing group and a Con-Tinual panel.

Next day, TYG got a second portable air-conditioning unit which we set up in the spare bedroom. That helped a lot, even lowering the temperature downstairs. I checked with the vet who assured me the cats would not die at 85 degrees in the house, provided they had water and a cool place to stretch out (they had both). Then Thursday, the part came in, they fixed it up and the heat is now back to normal.

This did not do my writing any good, of course. I made progress on Savage Adventures (Doc Savage cover here by Bob Larkin), rewriting up through the start of 1943. Only about 15,000 words to go this draft. But everything else … no. Nor exercise. It would have been easier if we’d been able to open windows or doors, but the cats might have gotten out, so we gritted our teeth. I did work up in the bedroom with TYG and the pups for a couple of days — we have one of the portable units there — but it’s always distracting when we’re working at close quarters.

Oh, and I got my first turn-down of the year, for All Happily Families, from Bourbon Penn. Does not dismay me at all, I’m happy to be submitting shorts again after a long time without.

I really, really, really hope for a smooth June. Fingers crossed.

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Photos with pairs of pets

The one of Plushie caged is from his confinement some months back — he’s doing great right now

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Perhaps the key is convincing men that women are not means to an end?

As I blogged about back in April, Scott Galloway, the current guru on how to fix men’s and boys’ problems, sums up the solution as “protect, provide, procreate.” Which is an improvement over, say, misogynists such as Andrew Tate or Roosh (their interest in protecting women is zero) but as I say at the link, “if men are to provide, protect and procreate to feel like a Real Man, then a woman’s role is to be protected, provided for and pop out the babies.”

By implication that puts some of the burden of Real Manhood on women: they must let the man protect them, let the man provide for them and provide him with children. Which fits with Galloway’s argument that men need women as human guardrails to keep them from crashing off the road of life (as noted at the link, not a new view). Both arguments suggest the burden of solving men’s problems fall at least partly on women. For many people who make this argument, women are obligated to accept second-class status for the good of men, which was the topic of my first Undead Sexist Cliche. Not necessarily a horrible second-class status, just compromise a little on full equality. Men need women to do it.

This story about high school boys making and sharing deepfakes of female students (not a unique case) make me wonder if a better mantra is “see women as people like you.” To paraphrase Immanuel Kant, women are not means to an end, they are ends in themselves (the same is true of men, intersex and nonbinary people, of course). That applies even if the end is your orgasm or your masculine pride. The teens in that story didn’t see it that way. Digitally stripping their classmates naked, hey, it’s funny! As one of the interviewees said, the guys may do it for “social status, entertainment, money, sexual gratification, attention.” Plus of course, cruelty and deliberate humiliation of the girls.

This is horrible for the girls, obviously — well, not obviously, the school didn’t take the case half seriously enough. It’s also bad for the boys. Corrupting for the boys. For every five boys who delighted in humiliating the girls and high-five the AI creator for putting the girl in their place, there’s probably one who didn’t think about the girl at all. And another who doesn’t think this is cool at all but when his buddy shows the photos and gets the high fives, Mr. It’s Not Cool high fives him too. Because anything else would mark him as uncool and his buddies would think less of him — what, you don’t want to see Helen St. James naked? What kind of wimp are you?

As C.S. Lewis put it “you will be drawn in, if you are drawn in, not by desire for gain or ease, but simply because at that moment, when the cup was so near your lips, you cannot bear to be thrust back again into the cold outer world. It would be so terrible to see the other man’s face—that genial, confidential, delightfully sophisticated face—turn suddenly cold and contemptuous, to know that you had been tried for the Inner Ring and rejected.” Once a kid crosses that line, they’ll probably cross it again; it’s harder not to, because they’ve already established what they’re willing to accept to be in with the in-crowd. Over time, it won’t be a pretense; the mask they wear will become their face.

Teaching men (and boys) not to think of women as sex toys, that women don’t exist just as means to men’s ends, seems like a better path forward than “protect, provide, procreate.” Not that this trio are bad things but they’re also not the only path to being a man, let alone a good man. Teaching men (and boys) to see women don’t deserve to be slut-shamed or humiliated, and that rape is wrong even if the guy wants sex this very minute and the bitch said no!!! and that being turned down for a date is a woman’s right, and does not cheapen the guy’s manhood or his honor — those would go a lot further to creating good men that Galloway’s formula. If we eliminated rape, the world would be a much better place. Even cutting the number of rapes in half would be a huge improvement. Literally that means thousands fewer cases of rape every day.

How do we get to that point? Well, there you’ve got me. A prophet, as Walter Breuggemann puts it, must both see the hollowness of the World That Is and visualize the long path to the World We Can Make. I can only manage the first part. At this point, though, society isn’t really trying. As that article about the high school deepfakes says, the school made little initial effort to stop this form of cyberbullying. Society makes little effort to punish or prosecute rapists. Being a sexist or misogynist jerk is never an obstacle to your career, as Brett Kavanaugh and Pete Hegseth have shown. Misogynists and harassers back up others of their kind because they don’t see any problem. And there’s a critical mass of them out there.

That’s a lot of resistance to overcome, but if we don’t work at it, it won’t change. To paraphrase G.K. Chesteron, gender equality hasn’t been tried and found wanting, it’s been wanting and never tried.

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Southern Discomfort: better with beta readers

I think Southern Discomfort is a terrific book, though I freely concede that I’m biased. I do not, however, take all the credit for it. My beta readers on the book have been invaluable. These include the Durham Science Fiction/Fantasy Writing Group, writer & friend Michele Berger, writer & friend Cindy Holbrook and TYG offered some insights at one point in the process. Maggie Prestwood of the group gave me an extra final beta editing that helped a lot.

I’m good at editing myself and spotting problems but I’m not infallible; I doubt anyone is. That’s particularly true with a work of around 90,000 words. In a short story there’s a limit to how much I can mess up; with a novel there’s more scenes so more opportunity to make mistakes. Get a name wrong. Forget that someone wears glasses or that they have a distinctive way of phrasing everything.

Beta reading isn’t just about catching mistakes, however. It’s about making a story better. Many drafts back, 2nd Lt. and former Army nurse Maria Esposito starts out with no intention of sticking around Pharisee, the strange Southern town in which she’s been captured. After a kelpie attacks and almost kills someone, she’s horrified enough to stay and fight the mystery threat.

The consensus from the writing group: not convincing. Maria simply doesn’t have enough reason to stand and fight for people she doesn’t know, given the risks (death or a 20-year federal sentence) facing her. They were right; I rewrote so Maria spends more than half the book trying to run from Pharisee. When she does change her mind, the stakes are higher and its both more dramatic and more believable. This makes her less likable — she’s looking out for number one for most of the novel — but it works better.

I think it was Michele who suggested another improvement. During the segregation era, Olwen and Aubric McAlister didn’t allow violence against the county’s black population, though they did accept Jim Crow as the law of the land (an acceptance some of the black community were not pleased with). Blacks traveling through Georgia could stop in Pharisee and know they wouldn’t be assaulted. Michele pointed out this would probably be mentioned in the Green Book, the celebrated guide for black travelers on where it was safe, or wasn’t, to stop.

I incorporated this idea into the book. The Green Cafe run by one of the wealthier black families — and named to tie in with Green Book — is a storied spot; black entertainers traveling through the South knew they could stop overnight in Pharisee without trouble so a lot of them booked shows there. It’s not essential to the plot but it adds to the world-building.

Another of my betas — I don’t remember which — had issues with a key reveal in the plot, involving a favor Olwen McAlister did for Sheriff Slattery and his family. She thought it put Olwen in a bad light. After thinking about it, I realized that while Olwen does several morally compromised things, this one didn’t fit. I reworked it.

I’ll have more to say about beta reading next week. Southern Discomfort cover by Samantha Collins, all rights to cover images remains with current holders.

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