Marc Graham
About me
Marc was born in Michigan, but moved at his earliest opportunity to the Republic of Texas, where he attended Rice University. On falling in love, he made the mistake of telling his prospective bride that he’d follow her to the ends of the earth. Since then, he has lived in Virginia, Ohio and North Carolina. The happy couple have at last landed on Colorado’s Front Range where they live with their 2 dogs.
A mechanical engineer by profession, Marc is also an ordained minister, latter-day Knight Templar, Rosicrucian and Freemason. He is humbled to have been one of the youngest Masters of Richmond (VA) Randolph Lodge #19 (AF&AM), housed in the oldest building in America erected and continually used for Masonic purposes (since 1785).
Marc writes primarily historical fiction, though he has a few contemporary and speculative ideas knocking around in his head. He is a member of the Historical Novel Society, Backspace Writers, Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, and Pikes Peak Writers.
Find me online
Recent tweets
Character had a break-through moment today, resolving an issue I didn't even know he had. #amwriting
Easton Press commemorates the 150th ann'y of the Tragic Assassination of Lincoln. 1) It's 2 yrs away. B) I think he'd be dead by now anyway.
Yay, WEEKEND, and two writing dates!
Aww, C'mon--No one chose Uranus werewolf? It just screams possibility.... #FaceOff
Roads were reasonably decent. Thanks, #CDOT.
From my website
Follow the adventures of four aspiring novelists as they plan literary-world domination from a New York ristorante:See You at Arno's
/rant/I've received a number of questions off-line recently. Things likeWhat do you have against religion?What's wrong with being a Christian?Why do you hate God?Why can't you put your empty glass in the dishwasher?OK, that last one really doesn’t have anything to do with the blog. (But, yes, I'm getting better…
It's an old story. On one side we have Cain. Cain the farmer. Cain the woodsman. Cain the cultivator, giving his sweat to the earth in return for his crops. On the other side there's Abel, the shepherd. He drives his herds to pasture, then strums his lute or whatever…