“Everyone thinks it’s just a picture book, but what we’ve found is that it isn’t just a book for children,” Jason Rosenthal told me over the phone. “There’s a breadth and depth this book offers that I could see being relevant at any stage of life.”

He’s talking about Dear Boy, a book he authored with his daughter Paris as a companion book to one written by Paris and her mother, Amy Krouse Rosenthal, before Amy passed away in 2017.

Working on Dear Boy with Paris, Jason said, really confirmed what he already knew: that Paris has a very special ability to capture immense concepts and simplify them in just a few words. As an example, he pointed me to the page in the book that says, “Yes means yes, and everything else means no.”

It’s a statement that does seem so simple, so clear, yet it’s one people struggle with on a daily basis. As Jason said, it could be for parents and their kids just as much as it could apply to the conversation about consent taking place on college campuses across the nation. As we spoke, I could hear in his voice the pride he has in his daughter.

Writing the book was also part of the healing process in the wake of Amy’s passing. Sometimes, Jason said, it was like there were three people writing the book because Amy felt so near. And there are specific references to her work throughout the book, as both Jason and Paris tried to channel Amy’s process whenever possible.

One overt reference is the use of one of Amy’s favorite phrases: “Always trust magic.” It’s a beautiful reminder, from a picture book that isn’t just a children’s book, of the need to let go every now and then and trust in something a little inexplicable, a little unusual and a little extraordinary.

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

Upon first glance, anything called The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady seems like a fairly far-fetched premise, perhaps even science-fictiony. But sometimes facts truly are stranger than fiction.

Elizabeth Stuckey-French’s latest novel is a fictional tale, but it is based entirely on a set of rather gruesome facts from our nation’s medical history. During the Cold War, doctors were pressured by the Department of Defense to measure how much radiation exposure someone could survive, ostensibly to prepare for an imminent Russian attack. Stuckey-French’s novel introduces us to a woman who was on the receiving end of these treatments and watched her daughter die of cancer as a direct result.

The story follows the protagonist on a rather madcap adventure as she attempts to exact revenge on the doctor who performed the treatments. Despite the heavy premise of the book, the narrative is an often hilarious romp through a fictional Tallahassee neighborhood, addressing significant topics about family dynamics along the way.

Stuckey-French has just finished another novel, a murder mystery set in a 1960’s Home Ec Practice House on a college campus. Her trademark mix of serious and silly, said Stuckey-French, is hard-won.

“I remember going to a ballet and thinking the performance looked so fluid and effortless, but we didn’t see all the hard work it took to make it look that way,” she said. “I think the same thing is true for writing—people probably don’t realize how hard it is. You read a good book and you think it must’ve come easily. It hardly ever does.”

Stuckey-French said she’s pretty sure most people start writing fiction with confidence, but when their first effort doesn’t match their ideas or isn’t very good, they give up.

“You have to be willing to really work at it,” she said. “Writers write because they can’t not write. If that’s not true of you, you might want to try something else.”

Stuckey-French found her way into writing fiction by first writing for a public relations newsletter, then quickly realizing she liked making things up more than writing about facts. Once she took a fiction writing course, she was hooked.

“In hindsight, that may have made me appreciate the outcome more,” she said. And after reading The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady, I have to admit I appreciate the outcome, too.

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

Colleen Oakley’s recent visit to the Midtown Reader felt like a super chill book club meeting; except, you know, with the author herself leading the discussion. There we were, sitting in the cozy upstairs space with Colleen, her mother, several of her mother’s friends, and a few local authors, chatting about what inspired each of Colleen’s four novels and the role her mother plays in the early editing process of each book.

“When I turn in a book, it’s pretty polished because my mom does my early editing,” said Colleen. About her third novel, You Were There Too, which is due out in early 2020… “We only had to change seven words once it was turned in.”

It’s clear the two women have a very special relationship. Kathy Oakley participated in the discussion almost as much as her daughter, especially when someone in the audience asked about Colleen’s writing process and whether she was very disciplined. Kathy snorted, audibly.

Colleen’s books all have a similar thread – they’re inspired (or triggered) by some type of medical issue. Her debut novel, Before I Go, was written after she interviewed a young woman dying of breast cancer. Her second novel, Close Enough to Touch, is based on the experience of having one or more incredibly unique (and often devastating) allergies. And her third (and forthcoming) novel tackles the theory of dream telepathy, a fascinating phenomenon that occurs when two people interact with each other in their simultaneous dreams.

And if Colleen’s characters seem especially connected to her, it’s because they are. She said each character lives in her head for about six months before she starts writing their story. When she talks about each one, you almost forget they’re not real people she knows in real life; each one is like a close friend or neighbor to her. This is part of her writing process, she said.

“I always know where I’m starting from and where I want to end up,” she said, telling me she doesn’t really rely on outlines when creating her plot lines. “The challenge isn’t keeping it organized; it’s making it believable.”

One thing she said that was hard for her to believe, initially, was how quickly her debut novel was accepted by a publisher. It was actually the second novel she’d written; the first was never published.

“It was not good,” she said ruefully. “So when my second novel sold in two weeks, it was wildly exciting!”

This is the example she points to when asked what advice she would give her younger self, or other aspiring authors.

“Don’t give up,” she said emphatically. “Keep going, just maybe on a different path.”

You Were There Too is due out in January 2020 and can be pre-ordered at the Midtown Reader.

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

“Basically, I’m holding their hands while blowing their minds.”

This is how cosmologist Paul Sutter explained his book, Your Place in the Universe, to me. On paper, it sounds like something Rajesh Koothrappali from “The Big Bang Theory” would say, followed by the CBS laugh track. But when Sutter says it, he’s earnest and unassuming.

Sutter wrote his book to tell “the fun, long story of this journey” of the cosmic evolution and how we came to understand it. What could be more fun, he said, than trying to understand the universe?

The challenge he encountered while writing the book wasn’t the research or the structure of the manuscript; it was how to talk about something as complex and speculative as the physics of the early universe. A lot of his writing process involved consuming as much information about his topic as possible and then translating the narrative into his own conversational tone.

“The universe and its history are big, messy, and fun to learn about,” he said. “I love talking about what I do and sparking curiosity, especially with kids.”

Sutter said he loves Q&A sessions because he enjoys hearing what people are curious about. And kids, he said, are always asking about throwing various things into black holes. That would be worth the laugh track.

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

Jack Davis loves the Gulf of Mexico. In fact, he seems to love all coastal bodies of water, having grown up first in the Florida Panhandle and then in the Tampa Bay area. But the Gulf truly holds a special place in his heart; it’s an affection that comes through clearly in his Pulitzer Prize-winning book, The Gulf: The Making of An American Sea.

“Writing this book was a labor of love,” he told me. There was birdsong in the background of our phone conversation. It seemed right, since I was listening to him tell me why he felt compelled to write about this environmental, well, force of nature.

“When I realized no one had written a comprehensive history of the Gulf of Mexico, it shocked the hell out of me,” he said. “It seems to me there has been a real historical amnesia and ignorance. I wanted to bring the Gulf into the American historical experience, where it belongs.”

Writing the biography of a place presents different challenges than writing the biography of a person, Davis said. Without a clear chronology to follow, he struggled with the book’s organizational structure. So, he took a unique approach: he wrote about the Gulf’s many natural characteristics, weaving human stories into each section. Chapter 12 of the book was the first chapter he completed; it recounts the story of artist Walter Anderson and his relationship to the sea.

“I knew Walter would show me the way into the book and how to write it,” Davis said, “and he did.”

Davis also wanted to tell the story of the countless connections the Gulf has to every other part of our nation. For example, the white sugar sand on the beaches in Northwest Florida comes from quartz on the top of the Appalachians, slowly eroded and brought south by the wind, rain and rivers flowing to the Gulf. This is the type of connection Davis loves to tell his readers about, celebrating the Gulf’s unique impact.

It’s fitting that The Gulf won the Pulitzer, just months before Hurricane Michael devastated the book’s namesake area. Davis said he hopes the book will finally bring the Gulf some of the respect it deserves, along with more positive, focused attention—something the area desperately needs right now.

“I have hope for the future of the Gulf,” he said. “The love for the Gulf is evident everywhere; people are so excited this story is finally being told.”

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

Peter Wake has an exciting life. As an American Naval Intelligence Officer, he finds himself operating in the shadowy world of espionage during some of the greatest events in American history. Time and travel are of no consequence to him, because he is the central character in Robert Macomber’s novels, centered around events that changed not only American history, but also the world at large.

Macomber’s most recent novel, Honoring the Enemy, has been eagerly awaited by his fans, who call themselves Wakians. Macomber said his readers are extremely enthusiastic, often assisting him with research and frequently contacting him about their travels to locations in his books. He’s written 14 about Wake and his adventures and exploits; the last eight have been written in the style of Wake’s memoirs. And as far as memoirs go, Honoring the Enemy sounds like a pretty hot read.

“It’s the story of a great love affair, a spy story, a war story…” said Macomber as we were chatting about his anthology and why this most recent book is his favorite so far. “This one was really, really personal to me.”

Normally, Macomber works in 4-5 books per year, and each project takes a few years to complete; Honoring the Enemy took nearly a decade. Part of this was due to the extensive research that went into the project, which is set in Cuba and tells the story of how America became a continental power after the Spanish American war in the late 1800s. Macomber said he wanted to tell the story of the age-old bond between Americans and Cubans and introduce readers to important figures in American history in a more personal way. Take Teddy Roosevelt, for example: he served heroically in the Spanish American War, which catapulted him into the political spotlight and later, into the White House. These types of historical origin stories are exactly what Macomber likes to focus on, explaining the reasons for why certain events took place the way they did.

Perhaps what makes Macomber’s novels so special is his dedication to research. He employs two types: academic first, then “eyeball recon,” or immersive trips in order to experience details firsthand to better bring them to life for his readers. It’s not always an easy process, though. His eyeball recon for an earlier novel set in Vietnam presented significant challenges, as have his novels set in Cuba. At first, the Cuban government was very wary of him, and he said he underwent a fair amount of harassment. And then his readers came to his rescue in an interesting way.

“Many of my readers are Freemasons,” he said. “So they reached out and connected me with the Freemasons in Cuba, two of whom received the first two published copies of the book in the world. Sharing that with them was incredibly special.”

Macomber’s enthusiasm is contagious – whether he’s talking about history, Peter Wake, his readers or independent bookstores, his passion radiates through. And to say he’s excited about his second visit to the Midtown Reader is an understatement.

“Most authors love independent bookstores; we have a better time at their events and our readers have a far better time,” he said. “It’s a party for people who already love books, at a place run by true bibliophiles who know and love books. I can’t wait.”

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

I’ve never been a big fan of horror movies; why would I want to pay someone to scare the daylights out of me? But when I was talking to Mallory O’Meara, author of “The Lady from the Black Lagoon,” she had a completely different — and logical — perspective.

“Horror is a weirdly calming, comforting place,” she said. “All of these monsters are metaphors for something bad, and we see them get destroyed. It’s cathartic.”

O’Meara is an author, screenwriter and producer, and a self-proclaimed lover of monsters and horror entertainment of all types. Her passion radiates through her projects and is on full display in “Lady,” a project she began because she couldn’t find enough information about one of her heroines in horror, Milicent Patrick.

Until recently (and I mean very recently, as in right around the time O’Meara’s book was published), Milicent Patrick had faded almost entirely away from the annals of monster movies and horror films. Yet, as O’Meara discovered and chronicles, Patrick was responsible for designing the Creature in the “The Creature from the Black Lagoon,” a beloved monster classic that filmed its underwater scenes just minutes away at Wakulla Springs.

Patrick’s Creature was possibly one of the most famous monsters of all time, yet her legacy was all but erased due to rampant sexism coupled with a male supervisor jealous of her star power. Women just weren’t in the horror industry, something O’Meara initially struggled with. Until, that is, she found an old photograph of Patrick working on the Creature suit. It was transformational.

“Seeing that photo was like seeing a doorway that had never been there before,” said O’Meara. “I realized I had a place, as a woman, in the industry. I hadn’t yet been able to visualize that future.”

It was this connection that propelled her through the challenges of writing “Lady”; O’Meara said it was at least three years of getting pushback from male historians, draining her bank accounts and researching Patrick so she could reverse engineer the story from little bread crumbs here and there.

Fortunately for the reader, O’Meara brings them along for the adventure, laying out the details of Patrick’s life while simultaneously working through the investigative journey (really, the book is worth the read for the snarky footnotes alone).

I now know more about monster movies and the horror genre than I ever thought possible, but now I also know about Milicent Patrick, an artist and a pioneer. And I have O’Meara to thank for that.

This article was first published in the Tallahassee Democrat.