Go Set a Watchman
I wrote this a while ago, after reading Go Set a Watchman. It just seemed like something it might be worthwhile to share.
So Harper Lee, who wrote a book about white people and racism, wrote another book about white people and racism. I don’t know why we’re all so surprised.
Okay, yes, I do know. It’s a gut punch to know that Atticus, the kind, protective, wise, gentle father figure to white America, will smile and nod while listening to a speech so full of racist vile it makes his daughter vomit. It’s horrible to hear Atticus, our Atticus, declare the Warren Supreme Court and the NAACP his mortal enemies, to talk with gentle and genteel horror about black children sitting in his school and black voters taking over his government.
But it shouldn’t shock us, if we look back honestly at To Kill a Mockingbird.
We were all lulled into thinking that this is the definitive book about racism in America. And what does it tell us? That one man, armed with kindness, good manners, and legal training, can overcome racism in his small Southern town.
Except he can’t.
What does Atticus actually do in To Kill a Mockingbird? Remember? He doesn’t get Tom Robinson acquitted. He makes the jury take a little longer to decide. He makes them think about it. And he counts that as a victory.
Read MoreWhat Gets Left Out
NASA’s fecal containment bag. Astronauts are true heroes.
One of the saddest things about writing nonfiction is that you just can’t fit all the cool stuff you find into one book. Thankfully, we have blogs for this sort of thing.
I’ve been hard at work on my biography of Neil Armstrong. Apollo 11 has just achieved the first moon landing and Neil, Buzz, and Mike are on their way back to Earth. But I only had a limited amount of words to describe this epic achievement, and one of the things that got cut for space was the fact that there were no bathrooms on any of the Apollo flights.
So of course you want to know how this was handled, don’t you? Alas, I do mean handled.
In classic NASA speak, the astronauts used “fecal containment bags.” Sad to say, they were not terribly well designed and sometimes did not do what they were supposed to do, leading to this immortal dialog, captured for history in the transcripts for Apollo 10 as it orbited the moon:
Commander Tom Stafford: Oh — who did it?
Command Module Pilot John Young: Who did what?
Lunar Module Pilot Eugene Cernan: Where did that come from?
Stafford: Give me a napkin quick. There’s a turd floating through the air.
Young: I didn’t do it. It ain’t one of mine.
Cernan: I don’t think it’s one of mine.
Stafford: Mine was a little more sticky than that. Throw that away.
A bit later on the same mission:
Cernan: They told us that–Here’s another *$*#@*@*#*$ turd. What’s the matter with you guys?
Stafford and Young: laughter
Cernan: A line of dialog which I shall omit, as I try to keep this blog rated PG-13
Stafford: It was just floating around?
Cernan: Yes.
Stafford: Mine was stickier than that.
Young: Mine was too. It hit that bag–
Cernan: When I stuck my finger in mine–mine was too soft. [The fecal containment bags had a “finger cot,” a sort of indentation where fingers could be inserted to, erm, encourage separation of the matter in question from the buttocks, as there was no gravity to help with this. Cernan was not actually sticking his naked finger in, you know.)
Young; Laughter
Cernan: I don’t know whose that is. I can neither claim it nor disclaim it.
I tell you, the stuff you can’t include in books just breaks your heart.
Read MoreThis Is Neil Armstrong
New year, new project! I’m gearing up for work on a biography of Neil Armstrong, the first human to set foot on the moon.
So far, my favorite quote is not “That’s one small step for man…” but actually comes from his sister, June: “He never did anything wrong. He was Mr. Goody Two-shoes, if there ever was one.”
You can fly fighter jets and fight in a war and blast off into out space and walk on the actual moon, but I’m telling you, you’ll never get respect from your little sister.
Read MoreNew England Vampires
JB exhumed skeleton beings studied at the National Museum of Health and Medicine.
Forensic science and folklore can piece together some truths about life (and the afterlife) in New England in the 1700s and 1800s. Like Mercy Brown in Mercy: The Last New England Vampire, JB was a real person, a Connecticut farmer who died of tuberculosis….and whose community dug up his grave after his death, convinced he was a vampire. The Washington Post details new discoveries about him here…one of the few so-called vampire burials to be exhumed and studied.
You don’t have to travel to Transylvania to encounter homegrown vampire folklore. The same legends that led to JB’s exhumation were the basis for my YA novel Mercy. Family, loss, terror, and love–the elements of a good horror story or a supernatural legend.
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Sarah L. Thomson
A children’s book author publishing award-winning nonfiction, poetry, picture books and novels including…
“Readers will treasure the blossoming friendship between opposites in this whimsically illustrated tale. Short chapters and plenty of action make for an accessible and appealing reading experience. . . . Touching and inspiring.”
—Kirkus Reviews