February 17, 2026
I hope that Savannah Guthrie’s mother is found safe and sound.
I hope that the techniques that law enforcement groups are honing as they search for her will be deployed in the cases of missing people who are not related to somebody famous.
February 17, 2026
So, the Winter Olympics are in full swing. In every Olympic cycle, summer or winter, some announcer will say excitedly, “Athlete X is the best skier, skater, swimmer, runner, etc. in the world!” When I hear that, I always want to clarify: They’re the best well-known skier, skater, whatever.
Because there’s always someone better. Someone who didn’t get discovered, or who couldn’t afford the cost, or who just plain didn’t want to trade doing something they loved for the rigor and the non-stop training to it takes to be an Olympian; who said, “I enjoy it, I love it, I don’t want to end up hating it because it takes over my life.”
I’m not denying that the people who participate in the Olympics are great; they put everything they had into becoming the best, and that exemplifies the Olympic spirit.
But somewhere, there’s somebody better.
February 7, 2026
I just read part of a mystery novel whose protagonist is a friend of Agatha Christie. It’s part of a series. The friend solves the mysteries with (in this case at least) no input from Agatha.
Here’s the thing about contemporary authors writing about the early 1900s – post WWII era: The writing and the dialogue purport to be in line with the style of the era, but in most cases (as in this one) they are overly formal. And the trend is almost invariable.
I think the reason that I like the real thing—novels about the era that were actually written in the era—is that the writing flows so much better. Read an Agatha Christie or a Dorothy Sayers or a Georgette Heyer (yes, she did contemporary novels as well as the Regencies); the dialogue isn’t at all formal, and the writing has a very light hand.
So why do modern authors make the narration and the dialogue of that era so stilted?
Just asking.
