Last night, I had the great privilege of addressing this group of fellows, all veteran pipe smokers, about my books, chiefly "The Case of the Undead Client" and the more recent "Werewolves of Edinburgh." In short, it was a delight. One of the club members, Tim Hynik, is part of a regular on-line pipe chat... Continue Reading →

M.J. Downing It's like getting a C- on that paper on which I really worked hard. It's a psychological gut punch I didn't see coming. It puts me down, like on the canvas, trying to breathe, think, though nothing happens. George Foreman, as I recall, called them 'canvas moments.' I don't know which boxer said... Continue Reading →

M.J. Downing I could be writing this while wearing pajamas—maybe with a cowboy hat. Believe me when I say that I look ridiculous in a cowboy hat, too. Or, I could be in my kilt, sweater, and Glengarry jacket, like Doctor Watson at the end of “Werewolves of Edinburgh.” I could be wearing anything to... Continue Reading →

To read the entire review, following this link to the website: https://killernashville.com/sherlock-holmes-the-werewolves-of-edinburgh-review-by-joy-gorence/ Thank you, Joy Gorence and Liz Gatterer! M.J. Downing

M.J. Downing Back in late 1972 or early 1973, I heard a ghost in the dormitory of the old firehouse at Preston and Marret Streets here in Louisville. In that big room, full of firemen’s bunks, there was always a little light, though it did not go far back into the dark corners. Whatever winds... Continue Reading →

M.J Downing.             Looking at the map above, you see where my focus lies these days as I work on the last third of Sherlock Holmes: The Ghosts of Savannah. What you see is a structure map of the city of Savannah in 1884, just four years prior to the time that my book’s action takes Holmes and... Continue Reading →

One chapter at a time. Less than that. A quarter chapter, and the boulder rolls backwards, smashing my toes, grinding against my shoulders.  The grit on its surface irritates my face. The damned thing lodges on things I cannot see, and all I can do is push.              I am in the final third of Sherlock Holmes, The... Continue Reading →

M.J. Downing. That guy in the picture? That’s supposed to be me. I guess it was. It doesn’t seem like the face I see in the mirror anymore. Oh, the resemblance is there, but consciousness had yet to dawn on that face, and I was about to embark on my journey into the adult world... Continue Reading →