Strange Fates

My good friend Bob Yankle of Burlington, NC has sent me a striking photo he snapped of the equestrian statue of Maj. Gen. Nathanael Greene at Guilford Courthouse National Military Park in Greensboro. It accompanies this blog. Greene is one of the chief characters in my forthcoming novel Nor the Battle to the Strong. I didn’t know much about him till I began researching the book, and as you’ll see if you read the novel, he quickly became one of my heroes.

During the Revolutionary War, from late 1780 through 1783 Greene was commander of the Southern Continental Army. Guilford Courthouse, fought on March 15, 1781, was his most famous battle. Though he didn’t win, he inflicted such severe losses on his British opponent Lord Cornwallis that His Lordship eventually limped up to Yorktown, Virginia where he surrendered to George Washington. It’s my opinion now that Greene probably had more to do, militarily speaking, with the winning of our independence than any other American officer.

When I was a child my family lived for a time in Greensboro. We used to picnic in a park there called the Battleground. Of course this was the site of the battle but to me it was just a place to go and eat relish sandwiches and drink Cokes. One fixture of the place did command my attention, though. It was the equestrian statue of Greene. I used to stand at the foot of that magnificent monument and admire the handsome figure on his great metal horse. I would read the names of his Southern battles emblazoned on the pedestal: Guilford Courthouse. Hobkirk’s Hill. Ninety-Six. Eutaw Springs. I wondered what those words meant and who the man was who fought in the places bearing such exotic names.

Now I know. And looking back on my boyhood, I marvel at the strangeness of fate. Of course it never occurred to me then that I would grow up and immerse myself in the life of Greene and come to admire him as I’ve seldom admired any leader of my own time—much less that I would live to write a novel about him. I guess all these years later I’m still, in some ways, that same little boy gazing up at that mighty figure on horseback. I’m much obliged to Bob Yankle for reminding me of that. Bob is a Navy veteran, a member of the Alamance Chapter of the Society of the Sons of the American Revolution, official photographer for the online magazine Southern Campaigns of the American Revolution (www.southerncampaign.org), and one of the finest people I know. Thanks, Bob!

Nor the Battle to the Strong

Anybody who’s checked my website knows I came to writing somewhat late in life, and that over the last thirteen years I’ve published four novels. At first, for a late-blooming beginner, things moved pretty quickly for me, with books coming out in 1996, 1999, 2001 and 2003. Then I pitched into an ambitious project—a historical novel larger in scale and more serious in content than anything I’d tried before. That book took me two years to research and write and another year to sell; then two more years had to pass while it waited its turn on the production line.

Now the time is approaching when it will finally see print. The launch date is July 4, a fitting date for a novel about the American Revolution. It’s called Nor the Battle to the Strong. The jacket cover has been designed. Any day now I’ll be proofing galleys. Soon review copies will be going out. Booksellers have already started to contact me about readings and signings. These are exciting days for any writer, but especially for one who’s nearly seventy, frets about the amount of fruitful time left to him, and has impatiently waited five years to see his next work go into print.

Not that I’ve been idle during that interval. I’ve written four other new novels, re-written two others, am working on a seventh, and have begun a sequel to Nor the Battle. My wife Ruth and I have also co-written a four-act play. We hope all these works can one day join their literary brothers and sisters on the shelves of booksellers and libraries or on the stage. But as anybody familiar with today’s publishing business knows, nothing is quick or easy or predictable. We’ll see what happens and anticipate good things.

Meanwhile, it’s a happy time for us. We’ve got a great publisher who’s turning out a high-quality book and working hard to promote it. We think it’s a good book. We hope you'll read it and like it and tell your friends about it. We think it says something important about our country, not just the America the 18th century but the America of today and tomorrow too. We look forward to taking it on the road. We hope it will make a difference. After all, that's why we write.