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I am starting research on a fourth novel by reading lots and lots (and lots) of books about post-World-War-One America. Whew. Dark times. Between an ongoing pandemic, struggles between European powers over disputed territories, fear of international meddling in American affairs, racial animosity, and union battles, things were rough. Sounds familiar…

I’m probably going to write more about specifics, but for today, let me enlighten you about an event called the Boston Molasses Flood, when a giant silo full of molasses (used to make rum, I believe) broke, sending a 20 foot tall wave of molasses through a crowded Boston neighborhood, killing 21 people and injuring over a hundred. Anarchists and Bolsheviks were blamed, but it was probably just negligent maintenance on the part of the owner.

Not much more to say about that, except that it was said you could still smell the molasses on hot days up to sixty years later. And although people died and so it’s definitely not funny, I can’t get the phrase “slow as molasses” out of my mind, and so I am imagining that scene from Austin Powers when the guard is killed by the steamroller even though he has a full minute to get out of the way.

More weird updates to come…