Thirteen years ago during the hottest of Southern summers, the finest companion a novelist could ever want emerged from the shadows of my jungled back yard. Wrenched from the jowls of a hound bent on a snack, an orange kitten…




Thirteen years ago during the hottest of Southern summers, the finest companion a novelist could ever want emerged from the shadows of my jungled back yard. Wrenched from the jowls of a hound bent on a snack, an orange kitten…
… So touts the French publication “Le Parisien.” “Bonobos: Back to the Wild” is now complete and my work on Alain Tixier’s acclaimed documentary is done. The New York premiere is over and the film’s U.S. theatrical release has commenced.…
I just spent a remarkable ten days in London where I had the pleasure of working with Luke Evans, one of the loveliest actors I’ve ever met—a Welshman no less.
I was there to produce and direct a voice recording session for his portrayal of Beni, a baby bonobo whose life is chronicled in Alain Tixier’s acclaimed French docudrama “Bonobos: Back to the Wild.”
Docudramas are not my usual domain, and I have been intent on not accepting any new film projects until my latest novel is complete, but when I learned that the net proceeds from the film were to benefit the World Wildlife Fund and the Lola ya Bonobo Sanctuary in the Congo, I accepted the offer to head up the adaptation. I was thrilled with the notion that by making the film more accessible to English-speaking audiences worldwide, I could help raise awareness and funding for this highly endangered species of apes.
Last May, while at the Cannes Film Festival, I first met with the film’s creator, Alain Tixier. He speaks little English and I speak even less French, but this would pose no barrier in our collaboration. His passion for his work was infectious. The project would be a labor of love, not only for me, but for all who would become involved, including Luke Evans who took time out of his busy schedule of blockbuster films to bring little Beni to life.
I recently returned from an amazing trip to the Republic of Ireland—a vacation mixed with research for my current novel. I’ve been back for almost two weeks now, yet my days and nights are still turned upside down. In the middle of the afternoon I’m falling into a coma where remnants of the Emerald Isle rush past in delicious snippets of sight, sound, and glorious green. If there’s anything Ireland is, it’s green.
As a redhead with Irish roots, I’ve wanted to visit Ireland from the time I was a small child. When teased about my freckles and orange hair, my mother would tell me about the Land of Redheads where Carrot-tops, Pumpkin-heads, and Irish Setters reigned. All the better that the land had no snakes.
For as long as I can remember, Ireland has lived as a mythical place in my being, a magical realm alive with spirit. Land of the bard, the storyteller, and the seer. Land of the Druids and the dreamers. Land of the Kings of Tara, of Catholicism, Protestantism, and old Pagan religions. A land so incredibly beautiful that it couldn’t possibly exist.
I’ve spent considerable time in the neighboring Wales researching her culture and Celtic mythology, as well as enjoyed many visits to England. More than once, I’ve stood on the Aberystwyth shore and looked across the Irish Sea, but never traversed those waters until now.