So when bloggers who heretofore had been relentlessly consistent — some might even say unhealthily obsessive — about posting every week suddenly fall eerily silent for a distinct period of time, it usually means one of three things.
- The blogger’s life has suddenly become unspeakably wonderful, leaving no time for writing.
- The blogger’s life has suddenly become unspeakably awful, leaving no time for writing.
- The blogger’s life has suddenly been consumed with writing for somebody else, leaving no time for writing on her own damn blog.
Well folks, I’m happy to report that in this case at least, we’ve totally lucked out and won the fabulous prize behind Door Number 3.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. My life is in fact still pretty generally wonderful. So there’s maybe a just little bit of Door Number 1 in there, too.
But we all know that things have been just a little bit thin on the ground around here of late, more so than ever before in the long, storied life of this blog (which incidentally I think might have crossed the ten-year mark somewhere along the way this spring), and that’s been for the very good reason that someone else has started paying me actual money to write weird, quirky little articles about history and food and cravats and stuff.
I am not making this up.
I’ve been keeping it under my hat for a while because, well, it sort of seemed too good to be true. But now it’s officially official, and the first of these officially official little stories of mine just got published yesterday.
So I guess I won’t be jinxing it if I tell you about it now.
I’m writing for The History Channel, folks. For their new, fairly tricked-out website where they’re starting to publish all manner of wacky historical awesomeness. And they’ve asked me to write a fair bit of that wacky historical awesomeness for them.
I know, right?
Anyway, all this is my way of saying that I’d be chuffed as all heck if you’d go over right now and check it out. As I said, my first post went up just yesterday, and I think it looks mighty fine if I do say so myself.
And these posts will feature everything you’ve come (for better or for worse) to expect out of me. This first one alone is replete with dreamy 19th century male celebrities, brilliant 19th century female authors, scandalous young love, bizarrely executed elopements, and highly questionable choices in food and drink.
There’s even a little opium and prostitution thrown in there, as well. Because I know that’s how you like it.
Yes, all this and more can now be found on The History Channel website. Can you believe?
Here’s a snippet of my debut post, for those of you just too stunned (or too giddy with excitement) to have clicked already:
Percy Bysshe Shelley was a young, idealistic poet whose beliefs often set him at odds with the rest of British society in the early 19th century. He was an atheist who got kicked out of university for being a bit too vocal about his atheism. He was a strict vegetarian in an era when beef broth and pork jelly were the go-to cures for the common cold. And at the age of 20 he deserted his young wife for the even younger Mary Godwin (the future author of “Frankenstein”), thereby becoming a pariah to much of mainstream society for the rest of his life.
Not that he wanted much to do with mainstream society in the first place. Romantic poets so infrequently do.
Of course there’s lots more to come. More historical recipes (this one features lamb chops — you’ll have to read it if you want to know why), more weird facts about long-dead dudes and ladies, more historical shenanigans and general nonsense of the very best kind. I hope you dig it.
Because God knows I do.