
Book Review: The Bullet Garden: Stephen Hunter’s WWII Thriller Digs into Snipers, Spies, and the Swagger Legacy
Picture this: It’s 1944. Normandy’s hedgerows are thick with summer growth, and the air hums with the kind of silence that comes right before a bullet splits it in two. The Allies have clawed their way into France after D-Day, but there’s a problem—German snipers are picking off U.S. officers with eerie, almost supernatural accuracy. Enter Earl Swagger, the broad-shouldered, sharp-minded Marine hero of Stephen Hunter’s The Bullet Garden….

Jordie’s World, Part 4
On the tenth floor of a luxury hotel in downtown Seattle, Jordie stood before the full-length mirror in the presidential suite, her wedding gown shimmering in the late morning light. At 28, she barely recognized the woman reflected back at her – so far removed from the little girl in hand-me-downs from Sedro-Woolley…….

Quick note
Quick note….

The Great Three-Album Runs: A Recognition of Consecutive Genius
Great albums are rare, but great album streaks are even rarer. When an artist or band manages to produce not just one but a series of landmark albums in close succession, they achieve something transcendent—a kind of musical alchemy that leaves an indelible mark on their legacy and the culture at large….

Jordie’s World, Part 3
The autumn air in Seattle felt different from Sedro-Woolley's – crisper, tinged with the scent of coffee and the salt of Puget Sound. Jordie, now 24, hurried across the University of Washington campus, her secondhand leather messenger bag thumping against her hip. Her hand unconsciously reached up to touch the star pendant around her neck, a gesture that had become as natural as breathing over the years……

Jordie’s World, Part 2
Jordie slumped in her seat at the back of the classroom, trying to make herself invisible. At ten years old, she was all too aware of how different she was from the other kids. Her too-small sweater, a hand-me-down from Kelly, rode up her wrists, exposing the pale skin beneath. She tugged at the sleeves, a futile attempt to make them longer….

The Day of the Jackal Review
Adaptations of classic stories often walk a tightrope between honoring the source material and bringing something new to the table. The Day of the Jackal (2024), a recently released limited British television series, provides an excellent case study of how a well-loved story can evolve to reflect contemporary sensibilities, offering fresh perspectives while risking alienating fans of the original….

Jordie’s World, Part 1
The October sun hadn't yet peeked over the North Cascades when Jordie's eyes flew open. Class photo day. Her heart did a little dance as she threw back the worn quilt and tiptoed past Kelly's sleeping form in the bed on the other side of their small bedroom.
In the cramped bathroom, Jordie stood on her tiptoes to see herself in the mirror……

Chapter 14: The Nexus Protocol
Rayna's fingers hovered over the makeshift console, her heart pounding in her chest. The stolen Syndicate terminal hummed softly, its sleek black surface reflecting the dim light of their hideout. It had been a stroke of luck—or perhaps fate—that led them to this piece of tech. Three days ago, she and Zeke had stumbled upon a Syndicate courier, downed by a rogue drone in the ruins of what used to be the Financial District. The courier hadn't survived, but his cargo—this console—was intact….

Chapter 12: Glitch in the System
Rayna's breath fogged in the cold air as she and Zeke crouched in the shadows near the entrance to the Syndicate's secure maintenance room. The nondescript door belied the importance of what lay beyond – a terminal that could provide crucial intel on Syndicate operations.
"Alright, boy," Rayna whispered, her hand resting on Zeke's flank. "You remember the plan?"

The Jungle
Tobin Michaels crept at a snail’s pace through the dense foliage of the Latin American jungle, his senses heightened and his body tense with anticipation. He'd been tracking the trafficking operation for days, gaining intel as he went, and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. As he approached the clearing, he heard a rustling in the bushes. Tobin froze, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon….

The Ruins of Hope
The acrid stench of burnt circuitry and ozone hung heavy in the air as Captain Rayna Khail picked her way through the debris-strewn streets of New Oakland. Zeke, her cybernetically enhanced canine companion, padded silently beside her, his metal and grafted tissue paws barely making a sound on the cracked pavement. The eerie quiet was broken only by the occasional crunch of rubble underfoot and the distant, hollow echo of wind whistling through abandoned skyscrapers….

The Gentleman
Sarah Jennings crouched behind a dumpster in Pioneer Square, rainwater seeping through her jeans where they pressed against the wet pavement. The fabric of her tactical vest caught on the dumpster's rusted edge as she leaned forward, tracking movement at the far end of the alley. Her quarry - a low-level enforcer named Martinez - had just ducked into the shadows of a recessed doorway….

The Arsonist
The manor loomed through the coastal fog like a ghost ship run aground, Victorian towers stark against the pearl-gray dawn. Smoke wisped from one of the chimneys, though Marcus knew the building's heating was entirely electric. Had been for months, ever since Tyler Chen converted the place into his "digital detox" retreat.
Marcus pulled his tablet from his coat, checking the fire pattern analysis one more time……..

Folie a deux
London, 1963. The crowds had thinned out at the Temple station on the Tube hours ago. Now, the Underground was the scene of a clandestine meeting between two figures who seemed to be avoiding the light. James Cunningham, a seasoned MI6 agent, stood on the platform, his eyes scanning the crowd for his Soviet counterpart…….

The Long View: Essay 5
Literature has always been both a reflection of the world and a guide to navigating it. Some works hold up a mirror to the society that produces them, forcing readers to confront uncomfortable truths about their time. Others act as maps, charting paths forward or imagining alternative realities that challenge the status quo. Often, the best literature does both, creating a dialogue between what is and what could be.

The Long View: Essay 4
This essay explores the intersection of ideology and literature, focusing on how authors like George Orwell, Ayn Rand, John Dos Passos, and John Steinbeck have used storytelling to grapple with the tensions and contradictions of their times. These writers didn’t just tell stories; they shaped the cultural narrative, offering visions of the world as it was, as it is, and as it could be.

The Long View: Essay 3
Literature isn’t just a tool for understanding the past or grappling with the present. Some authors peer into the fog of the future and emerge with what turn out to be startlingly accurate insights about what’s to come. These writers don’t just predict technological advancements or societal shifts—they influence how we think about them, shaping cultural imagination in ways that ripple far beyond their original works.

The Long View: Essay 2
Literature doesn’t just reflect the world; sometimes it changes it. That’s the focus of this second essay in the series: the authors who didn’t wait for history to settle but instead used their work to agitate, provoke, and sometimes outright incite change. These writers weren’t content to process events long after the fact. Instead, they were on the frontlines, wielding their pens like swords in the battles of their times….

The Long View: Processing Social Change Through Literature: Essay 1
Let’s start with a simple observation: big societal upheavals—wars, revolutions, social movements—tend to create ripples in literature. But here’s the twist: those ripples usually don’t show up immediately. Sure, there are exceptions (there always are), but more often than not, the most enduring literary responses to major social changes seem to emerge a decade or two after the fact. Why? That’s the question this essay, and this series, sets out to explore……