Biography Review Quotes

I don't know about you, but I'm kind of fed up with realism. After all, there's enough reality already; why make more of it? Why not leave realism for the memoirs of drug addicts, the histories of salt, the biographies of porn stars? Why must we continue to read about the travails of divorced people or mildly depressed Canadians when we could be contemplating the shopping habits of zombies, or the difficulties that ensue when living and dead people marry each other? We should be demanding more stories about faery handbags and pyjamas inscribed with the diaries of strange women. We should not rest until someone writes about a television show that features the Free People's World-Tree Library, with its elaborate waterfalls and Forbidden Books and Pirate-Magicians. We should be pining for a house haunted by rabbits. (from the review of Kelly Link's Magic for Beginners in The Guardian)

Barack intrigued me. He was not like anyone I’d dated before, mainly because he seemed so secure. He was openly affectionate. He told me I was beautiful. He made me feel good. To me, he was sort of like a unicorn—unusual to the point of seeming almost unreal. He never talked about material things, like buying a house or a car or even new shoes. His money went largely toward books, which to him were like sacred objects, providing ballast for his mind. He read late into the night, often long after I’d fallen asleep, plowing through history and biographies and Toni Morrison, too. He read several newspapers daily, cover to cover. He kept tabs on the latest book reviews, the American League standings, and what the South Side aldermen were up to. He could speak with equal passion about the Polish elections and which movies Roger Ebert had panned and why.

I have had a lot of readers of my book tell me that they like it, but so far only two reviews have been listed. Could you help?

http://www.momentmag.com/book-review-... Martin Indyk's review about Begin's biography

As Trump reviewed the biographies of potential candidates for the Presidential Medal of Freedom, he remarked to aides, “Well, I’ve probably done even more. Maybe I should be the one getting this.

During their subsequent meetings, which were soon and often, Lance confessed and anatomized his passion for her. He even gave her its (the passion’s, of course) biography. It had been born of a book jacket, the one responsible for the only really nice thing ever said about Eloise Michaud in a metropolitan review—“The photo-portrait on the book jacket will move as many books as, say, good writing might. To be honest, however, the picture is worth quite the price of the volume. Miss Michaud is the most scrumptious scrivener ever to set pen to the paper of a book-club contract.

The review L’Arc, meanwhile, wished to devote a complete issue to Derrida. Catherine Clément submitted a list of contributors in which there were more writers than philosophers in the traditional sense: Hélène Cixous, François Laruelle, Claude Ollier, Roger Laporte, Edmond Jabès, and so on.

The daughter of the literary biographer Leslie Stephen, and close friend of the innovative biographer of the Victorians, Lytton Strachey, Woolf herself put forward, in ‘The New Biography’ (1927) (reviewing work by another biographer acquaintance, Harold Nicolson), her own memorable theory of biography, encapsulated in her phrase ‘granite and rainbow’. ‘Truth’ she envisions ‘as something of granite-like solidity’, and ‘personality as something of rainbow-like intangibility’, and ‘the aim of biography’, she proposes, ‘is to weld these two into one seamless whole’ (E4 473). The following short biographical account ofWoolf will attempt to keep to the basic granitelike facts that Woolf novices need to know, while also occasionally attending in brief to the more elusive, but equally relevant, matter of rainbow-like personality.

I am Orafoura, but you can call me Jarod Kintz. I’m fairly proud to proclaim that Dora J. Arod has me on her short list of “World’s worst writers.” The list couldn’t get any shorter, because I’m the only name on it. I should tell her to stop calling it a list, and change the title to “World’s worst writer.” If you’re wondering why I rate all my work one star, it’s because the rating system doesn’t have a zero star option, or better yet, go into negative numbers.

A biography of civilization does not consist exclusively of wars, politics, and acts of villainy, but also consist of the culture, art, religion, and communication methods of a society. The written word outlasts human life. We can understand how other civilizations lived by reviewing the account of great philosopher’s lives and ideas. We also acquire valuable knowledge of the cultural context of prior eras by reviewing the historical narrative left by ordinary people including their letters and journals describing everyday life and living conditions.

And I *know* I wrote in the above that I hate biographies and reviews that focus on the psychological, surface detail, especially when they pertain to women writers, because I think it’s really about the cult of the personality, which is essentially problematic, and I think simplistically psychologizing which biographies are so wont to do is really problematic, and dangerous, especially when dealing with complicated women who just by being writers at a certain time and age were labelled as nonconformist, or worse, hysterical or ill or crazy, and I think branding these women as femme fatales is all so often done. And I know in a way I’m contributing to this by posting their bad-ass photos, except hopefully I am humanizing them and thinking of them as complicated selves and intellects AND CELEBRATING THEM AS WRITERS as opposed to straight-up objectifying. One particular review long ago in Poetry that really got my goat was when Brian Phillips used Gertrude Stein’s line about Djuna Barnes having nice ankles as an opener in a review of her poetry, and to my mind it was meant to be entirely dismissive, as of course, Stein was being as well. Stein was many important revolutionary things to literature, but a champion of her fellow women writers she was not. They published my letter, but then let the guy write a reply and scurry to the library and actually read Nightwood, one of my all-time, all-times, and Francis Bacon’s too, there’s another anecdote. And it’s burned in my brain his response, which was as dismissive and bourgeois as the review. I don’t remember the exact wordage, but he concluded by summing up that Djuna Barnes was a minor writer. Well, fuck a duck, as Henry Miller would say. And that is how the canon gets made.

Around this time, if not before, Forrest instructed Morgan to drop the lawsuits he had instituted, saying he did not wish to leave Willie a legacy of legal warfare. He described himself as “broken in health and spirit,” having “not long to live.” His life, he reflected, had “been a battle from the start … a fight to achieve a livelihood for those dependent upon me in my younger days, and an independence for myself when I grew up to manhood, as well as in the terrible turmoil of the Civil War. I have seen too much of violence, and I want to close my days at peace with all the world, as I am now at peace with my Maker.” Probably on this same trip to Middle Tennessee, he visited a onetime Confederate colonel Sevier who now was a professor at the University of the South at Sewanee. Sevier’s son, then aged seven, remembered long afterward that the talk among his elders centered on the war and that Forrest appeared bored by the discussion. To escape it, he repeatedly went outside and spoke with the children. Informed that the seven-year-old had yet to learn to ride a horse, he called for one, along with a bridle and saddle, and several times, with great patience, reviewed the correct way to approach, bridle, saddle, mount, and sit the animal.

There was a time when my life seemed so painful to me that reading about the lives of other women writers was one of the few things that could help. I was unhappy, and ashamed of it; I was baffled by my life. For several years in my early thirties, I would sit in my armchair reading books about these other lives. Sometimes when I came to the end, I would sit down and read the book through from the beginning again. I remember an incredible intensity about all this, and also a kind of furtiveness—as if I were afraid that someone might look through the window and find me out. Even now, I feel I should pretend that I was reading only these women's fiction or their poetry—their lives as they chose to present them, alchemized as art. But that would be a lie. It was the private messages I really liked—the journals and letters, and autobiographies and biographies whenever they seemed to be telling the truth. I felt very lonely then, self-absorbed, shut off. I needed all this murmured chorus, this continuum of true-life stories, to pull me through. They were like mothers and sisters to me, these literary women, many of them already dead; more than my own family, they seemed to stretch out a hand. I had come to New York when I was young, as so many come, in order to invent myself. And, like many modern people—modern women, especially—I had catapulted out of my context; in important ways, the life of my mother, in her English village, was not much help. I remember reading in those dark years a review by John Updike in which he smoothly compared the lives of Jean Rhys and Colette. The first was in the end a failure, the second a triumph, he said. I took it personally, felt a stab in the heart. And poor Jane Bowles, said someone else, in the Times—you'd have to admit that hers was a desperate life. The successes gave me hope, of course, yet it was the desperate bits I liked best. I was looking for directions, gathering clues...

Let us fix our eyes on the blood of Christ and understand how precious it is unto His Father, because being shed for our salvation it won for the whole world the grace of repentance. Let us review all the generations in turn, and learn how from generation to generation the Master hath given a place for repentance unto them that desire to turn to Him.

His intense devotion to reviewing contributed greatly to the expansion of his own research library. “A nice side-benefit is that the copies of the books reviewed remain my property.”78

In John A. D’Elia’s recent biography of George Ladd, he notes how, at the height of Ladd’s academic career, a harsh review of one of Ladd’s books by one of his peers completely devastated him, even to the point of alcoholism.

I slept on a sofa bed in Michael’s library. Each night before retiring, I would go through a shelf or pile of books (his only filing system) filled with letters and reviews and notes. Every night brought a new revelation. A few letters from Mary Welsh, Hemingway’s fourth wife, whom Michael had known in the war, were tucked into Hemingway books. In a debunking biography of Michael’s hero, Aneurin Bevan, founder of the National Heath Service, I read Michael’s comment on the flyleaf, which began “read with rising anger ...

At the Gay Hussar we had a brief discussion of a new biography of Indira Gandhi. Moni spoke against it, not because she had read it but because she had read negative reviews and because Sonia Gandhi had opposed it. Later Michael would take the same line, which I thought rather a poor show in a journalist and biographer. In some matters, Michael and his circle took a kind of partisan view of the world that boded ill for my own biography. Moni, in fact, would later intervene, imploring me not to publish the ‘Lamia’ story.

I have my first review this is exciting I write a passage to introduce the book and want to share it on SNS . As below words,hope you can give me some advice. " Want to share a book with all of you,my friends .So luck to read this book <> . He is not a famous writer but all story is he`s real experience,how to be abuse by his mother, how to overcome learn disablity ,how to be a good father in life and how to get a middle class life in US now.The purpose to write this book is that he want to help someone who have same experience with him and encourage those people,you are not alone,there are many people have experienced similar things,you can overcome it and you deserved a good life. This book can help us to avoid many mistake when we as a parent .

Many television critics, writing of Kermit during that pivotal first season, thought Kermit was already one of Hollywood’s great straight men—“funny not because of what he does,” wrote one reviewer, “but because of what others do around him, and because of the aplomb with which he bears their doings.

On this visit there was much talk of my Gellhorn biography, which had just appeared and had received excellent reviews, with a few very negative ones, including a personal attack on me by one of Gellhorn’s friends, the journalist John Pilger. Michael wanted to know why. “Well, he said I wrote a salacious book,” I told Michael. Of course, it was nothing of the kind. Michael’s response was “Dirty sod. I tell you, I’ve got very strong feelings about him. The way he’s behaved over the breakup of Yugoslavia. It’s absolutely outrageous. Pilger bilge, I call it.

Just then I felt I must confront the question of whether I was to do Michael’s biography as well as Jill’s. From our first meeting, Julie had been urging me to do so, to make sure I got my place in line ahead of everyone else. I took to the idea, since I had always wanted to write a biography of a political figure and I had such unprecedented access to Michael. But Julie, in her typical eagerness, had been pressing Michael: [CR] Julie said that when you were in Jamaica she asked you about my doing your biography. She’s talked to me about it several times. [MF] I see. [CR] Ah, I’d be delighted. After Jill, it would be natural to do that. You may have somebody else in mind. Or there may be something else you want to do, Michael. [MF] No. [CR] I was a little taken aback. I didn’t realise she was going to do that. [MF] Well, it’s up to you. I’m not going to write anything further myself, excepting book reviews. [CR] I’ve got plenty to do and I’d be delighted to do it, but I don’t want you to feel as if this is premature. [MF] No, if you want to do it, it’s got some point from your point of view. So ... His voice trailed off. It seemed to me Michael had given me leeway, if not exactly his blessing.

I don’t want the books [...] to be too far away; they, also, have become friends. I even feel this way about books I don’t own. In libraries, I find myself visiting the books I used before. I regard those rows of memoirs and letters as voices from the past, bound into books, and I like to make sure they are all there, alive and well. If they have collected dust, I take out the small towel I carry in my briefcase and wipe them off. -from 2012 NYT Book Review Essay

As Moses Mendelssohn noted at the occasion of a review of Edmund Burke’s A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful: The theory of human sensations and passions has in more recent times made the greatest progress, since the other parts of philosophy no longer seem to advance very much. Our neighbors, and especially the English, precede us with philosophical observations of nature, and we follow them with our rational inferences; and if it were to go on like this, namely that our neighbors observe and we explain, we may hope that we will achieve in time a complete theory of sensation.152 What was needed, he thought, was a Universal Theory of Thinking and Sensation; such a theory would cover sensation and thinking in theoretical, moral, and aesthetic contexts.

Against the backdrop of frequent and highly visible gubernatorial vetoes in the colonial era, the Constitution carefully specified the procedures to be followed whenever the president sought to negative a congressional bill. Yet the document failed to specify comparable procedures to be followed when judges sought to void Congress’s output—a small but telling sign that the Founders, with little actual experience with judicial review, did not anticipate that the judicial negative would one day surpass the executive negative as a check on Congress.

The problem is that Sontag wasn’t sufficiently interested in real-life details, the lifeblood of fiction, but only in ideas. She also wrote and directed films, which were not well reviewed: I have not seen these myself, but there is time enough to do so, for I have long assumed that they are playing as a permanent double feature in the only movie theater in hell.

Karl Barth was the most significant theologian in the twentieth century, at least in western Christianity. His defence of the doctrines of the Holy Trinity, the incarnation of God’s eternal Son and his virginal conception in Mary’s womb, stunned the liberalism that had captured Protestantism in Europe. For this we can be thankful. But orthodox confession of foundational truths, if not allied to a whole hearted submission to the sufficiency and absolute authority of God’s inscripturated revelation, the proclamation of Jesus Christ as the only Saviour of sinners, the necessity of the new birth, and personal repentance and faith, is not biblical Christianity. Hamilton, Ian. "False Friend?" review of Karl Barth: An Introductory Biography for Evangelicals, by Mark Galli, Banner of Truth, 682: 29.

During the two hundred years since Kant’s death, not many full biographical treatments of Kant have been written. Though a recent bibliography of works on Kant’s life takes up 23 pages and lists 483 titles, most of these concern minutiae that are of little interest even to those most keenly intrigued by Kant’s philosophy.56 Rolf George finds in a recent review of Kant

Imagine America as one house on a suburban lane. Years before he became a Jehovah's Witness, Prince knocked on America's door through his music. He came to the door holding a guitar and an umbrella while concealing a Bible. He flirted his way inside the door and told us he had a dirty mind and was controversial, and then he sat down in the living room on the good couch. And, when America's guard was down, because we thought we were having a conversation about sex, Prince eased out his Bible and said, "Let me also tell you about my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

I’m still trying to work out why I love this band so much,’ wrote Xavier Russell in his Kerrang! review of the group’s Donington set,

Even with all of this plot to be dispensed, the songs do rise organically out of the script. Doris’s first entrance, in head-to-toe buckskin, finds her astride a stagecoach, belting out the very catchy Sammy Fain/Paul Francis Webster song “The Deadwood Stage (Whip Crack Away).” The rollicking tune and exuberant Day vocal match the physical staging of the song, and character is revealed. Similarly, later in the film there is a lovely quiet moment when Calamity, Bill, the lieutenant, and Katie all ride together in a wagon (with Calamity driving, naturally) to the regiment dance, softly singing the lilting “Black Hills of Dakota.” These are such first-rate musical moments that one is bound to ask, “So what’s the problem?” The answer lies in Day’s performance itself. Although Calamity Jane represents one of Day’s most fondly remembered performances, it is all too much by half. Using a low, gravelly voice and overly exuberant gestures, Day, her body perpetually bent forward, gives a performance like Ethel Merman on film: She is performing to the nonexistent second balcony. This is very strange, because Day is a singer par excellence who understood from her very first film, at least in terms of ballads, that less is more on film. Her understated gestures and keen reading of lyrics made every ballad resonate with audiences, beginning with “It’s Magic” in Romance on the High Seas. Yet here she is, fourteen films later, eyes endlessly whirling, gesturing wildly, and spending most of her time yelling both at Wild Bill Hickok and at the citizens of Deadwood City. As The New York Times review of the film held, in what was admittedly a minority opinion, “As for Miss Day’s performance, it is tempestuous to the point of becoming just a bit frightening—a bit terrifying—at times…. David Butler, who directed, has wound her up tight and let her go. She does everything but hit the ceiling in lashing all over the screen.” She is butch in a very cartoonlike manner, although as always, the tomboyish Day never loses her essential femininity (the fact that her manicured nails are always evident helps…). Her clothing and speech mannerisms may be masculine, but Day herself never is; it is one of the key reasons why audiences embraced her straightforward assertive personality. In the words of John Updike, “There’s a kind of crisp androgynous something that is nice—she has backbone and spunk that I think give her a kind of stiffness in the mind.

Julie and I had met several times and played together as eight year olds in January 1957, at the time of the second Eisenhower-Nixon inauguration. On Inauguration Day, a photograph was taken of us on the reviewing stand with Granddad, Vice President Nixon, my seven-year-old sister, Anne, and Julie's ten-year-old sister, Tricia. Julie, who had lost control of her sled the week before and crashed into a tree, had a skinned nose and dramatic black eye. At one point when the cameramen gathered to take pictures, Granddad had turned to her and whispered, "Look this way and they won't see your black eye." In the resulting photograph, I am staring intently at Julie and she is looking at me.

Below, exactly at eye–level, was the contemporary stuff. Priestley's latest. Dinky little books of reprinted 'middles'. Cheer–up 'humour' from Herbert and Knox and Milne. Some highbrow stuff as well. A novel or two by Hemingway and Virginia Woolf. Smart pseudo–Strachey predigested biographies. Snooty, refined books on safe painters and safe poets by those moneyed young beasts who glide so gracefully from Eton to Cambridge and from Cambridge to the literary reviews. Dull–eyed, he gazed at the wall of books. He hated the whole lot of them, old and new, highbrow and lowbrow, snooty and chirpy. The mere sight of them brought home to him his own sterility. For here was he, supposedly a 'writer', and he couldn't even 'write'!

Elegantly printed on high-quality paper, Orpheu 1 was available for general purchase toward the end of March and immediately began to make news. On March 30, A Capital published an extensive front-page review titled “Literature from the Insane Asylum: The Poets of Orpheu.” Contesting the pretensions to novelty of this “group of young men who can often be spotted in some of the downtown cafés,” the reviewer said it was old stuff, analyzed fifteen years ago by the eminent psychiatrist Júlio de Matos, who had

KIRKUS REVIEWS BOOK REVIEW A retired professor explores the life and writings of Carl Sandburg in this debut book. “During the first half of the twentieth century,” Quinley writes, “Carl Sandburg seemed to be everywhere and do everything.” Though best known for his Pulitzer Prize–winning poetry and multivolume biography of Abraham Lincoln, Sandburg had a wide-ranging career as a public intellectual, which included stints in journalism as a columnist and investigative reporter, in musicology as a leading advocate and performer of folk music, and in the nascent movie industry as a consultant and film critic. He also dabbled in political activism, children’s literature, and novels. Not only does Quinley, a retired college administrator and professor, hail Sandburg as a 20th-century icon (“If my grandpa asks you a question,” his grandchildren joke, “the answer is always Carl Sandburg”), but much of his own life has been adjacent to that of the poet as well. Born in Maywood, Illinois, a “few blocks” from Sandburg’s home 30 years prior, Quinley would eventually move to the Appalachian Mountains. He lived just a few miles from Sandburg’s famed residence in Hendersonville, North Carolina. As a docent for the Carl Sandburg Home National Historic Site, the author was often asked for literature about the luminary’s life. And though much has been written about Sandburg, biographies on the iconoclast are either out of print or are tomes with more than 800 pages. Eschewing comprehensiveness for brevity, Quinley seeks to fill this void in the literary world by offering readers a short introduction to Sandburg’s life and writings. At just 122 pages, this accessible book packs a solid punch, providing readers with not just the highlights of Sandburg’s life, but also a sophisticated analysis of his passions, poetry, and influence on American culture. This engaging approach that’s tailored to a general audience is complemented by an ample assortment of historical photographs. And while its hagiographic tone may annoy some readers, this slim volume is backed by more than 260 endnotes and delivers an extensive bibliography for readers interested in learning more about the 20th century’s “voice of America.” A well-written, concise examination of a literary legend Kirkus Indie, Kirkus Media LLC, 2600 Via Fortuna Suite 130 Austin, TX 78746 indie@kirkusreviews.com

Compelling…. he delivers a gripping biography.... A father’s war experiences, unvarnished and illuminating. -- Kirkus Reviews

And to close: the true and sad biography of Delphine Delamare, the doctor’s wife from the village of Ry. A banal affaire d’adultère, probably discussed in the Flaubert household, which the author’s friends Bouilhet and Du Camp suggest to him as a theme for a novel. He must be “healed” of the superfluous phantasms

Henry VI’s regime (1450–61): Henry VI’s inadequacy is widely held to have been the primary cause of the political upheavals of the mid-fifteenth century. To assess how this affected the south-west it is necessary, first, to give a brief regional review introducing the major figures; then, to consider the realities of governance, patronage, and landholding in Somerset, Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall. It is only after surveys of the county elites that a regional overview can be undertaken, which summarises the notable aspects, and evaluates those features that were truly ‘regional’ in nature by relating shire and provincial perspectives to national politics and governance (p. 149). In summary, it seems that the dukes of Somerset could not only depend on the cooperation of those directly associated with them (such as the Caraunts), but could also rely on the support of others indirectly through secondary patrons such as Stourton and Hungerford. So, including Stourton-Hungerford clients as indirect connections, analysis of shire positions indicates the extent to which the Beauforts’ influence probably pervaded Somerset political society. Beaufort associates had regularly fulfilled local offices since the 1420s, and of the sheriffs’ terms between 1437 and 1450, almost half were undertaken by Beaufort clients. In comparison, between 1450 and 1461, over a third of sheriffs’ terms were served by Beaufort clients (p. 155). As discussed regarding Devon, during the earl of Devon’s long minority, leading Devon gentry–Sir William Bonville and his clientele–involved themselves in Courtenay dependants’ affairs; hence, on his majority, the young earl lacked local support. The relationship between the earl and Bonville became poisoned after Sir William was designated steward of duchy estates in the county in 1437. This challenge to his authority enraged the earl to resort to violence (p. 174). In the south-west, if the Beauforts provided a Lancastrian focus in the eastern counties, then the duchy of Cornwall provided another further west, where [Lord] Bonville also provided a specifically Yorkist focus (pp. 186–7). Therefore, by a combination of estates, royal offices, and prince’s council membership, [James Butler, Earl of] Wiltshire might have become a provincial magnate–and a national power-broker–if he had had a longer period of time in which to establish himself (p. 188).

He never talked about material things, like buying a house or a car or even new shoes. His money went largely toward books, which to him were like sacred objects, providing ballast for his mind. He read late into the night, often long after I’d fallen asleep, plowing through history and biographies and Toni Morrison, too. He read several newspapers daily, cover to cover. He kept tabs on the latest book reviews, the American League standings, and what the South Side aldermen were up to. He could speak with equal passion about the Polish elections and which movies Roger Ebert had panned and why.

You can also check my blog’s archive for a list of every post I have written or use the search function below my picture in the sidebar to find other posts that might be of interest. My Biography I have worked in the book publishing industry my entire career. I began at Word Publishing while a student at Baylor University. I worked at Word for a total of six years. In addition to serving as vice president of marketing at Thomas Nelson in the mid-80s, I also started my own publishing company, Wolgemuth & Hyatt, with my partner Robert Wolgemuth in 1986. Word eventually acquired our company in 1992. I was a successful literary agent from 1992 until early 1998. However, I really missed the world of corporate publishing. As a result, I rejoined Thomas Nelson in 1998. I have worked in a variety of roles in both divisional and corporate management. I was CEO from August 2005 to April 2011, when I was succeeded by Mark Schoenwald. Additionally I am the former chairman of the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association (2006–2010). I have also written four books, one of which landed on the New York Times best-sellers list, where it stayed for seven months. I am currently working on a new book for Thomas Nelson. It is called Platform: Get Noticed in a Noisy World (May 2012). I have been married to my wife, Gail (follow her on Twitter @GailHyatt), for thirty-three years. We have five daughters, four grandsons, and three granddaughters. We live outside Nashville, Tennessee. In my free time, I enjoy writing, reading, running, and golfing. I am a member of St. Ignatius Orthodox Church in Franklin, Tennessee, where I have served as a deacon for twenty-three years. My Contact Information You can contact me via e-mail or follow me on Twitter or Facebook. Please note: I do not personally review book proposals or recommend specific literary agents. Colophon My blog is built on WordPress 3.1 (self-hosted). My theme is a customized version of Standard Theme, a simple, easy-to-use WordPress theme. Milk Engine did the initial customization. StormyFrog did some additional work. I highly recommend both companies. In terms of design, the body text font is Georgia. The titles and subhead fonts are Trebuchet MS. Captions and a few other random text elements are Arial. Keely Scott took most of my personal photos. Laurel Pankratz also took some. I get most of the photos for my individual

She did not expect success, though she knew her own worth. Her writing career was not a usual one. She began publishing late in her life, around sixty, and in twenty years she published nine novels, three biographies and many essays and reviews. She changed publisher four times when she started publishing, before settling with Collins, and she never had an agent to look after her interests, though her publishers mostly became her friends and advocates. She was a dark horse, whose Booker Prize, with her third novel, was a surprise to everyone.

Kirkus (starred review): A lucid, expertly researched biography of the brilliant Nikola Tesla. (Readers) will absolutely enjoy (Munson’s) sympathetic, insightful portrait. Booklist: Celebratory, comprehensive profile. ….A well-written, insightful addition to the legacy of this still-underappreciated visionary genius. Library Journal: Entrepreneurs, inventors, engineers, and futurists will find this biography inspiring. Gretchen Bakke (author of "The Grid"): Munson has provided us with an intimate tapestry of Tesla's life, personality, and inventions. Filled with quotes, and clearly researched with great care, Munson brings Tesla to life, not as a superhero but as a man—both ordinary and extraordinary. What surprised me, and proved to be one of the great pleasures of the book was to realize how much Tesla’s story is an immigrant story. Anne Pramaggiore (CEO of Commonwealth Edison): Tesla is an exactingly-researched history and wonderfully crafted tale of one of the most important and fascinating visionaries of the technological age. This book’s teachings have never been more relevant than in today’s world of digital transformation.