I am very pleased to announce that my latest novel in the Airship Flamel Adventures Series, Mr. Darwin’s Dragon, is now available. Here’s the synopsis:
Charles Darwin, one of Britain’s most famous and certainly most controversial scientists has a puzzle. How is it that cultures all over the world have ancient myths of dragons? Could dragons have once lived alongside ancient man? Could dragons still exist?
Professor Nicodemus Boffin and his newly launched airship Flamel takes up Darwin’s request to search for evidence of modern dragons. The voyage takes Flamel from Britain through the Middle East and over the Himalayas to China. The search is barely begun when Flamel discovers an illicit gold mine run by Cai Yuan, a cruel Chinese warlord, and his corrupt British collaborator. Professor Boffin and his family are taken hostage in the mine which seems to be guarded by a fierce dragon. The crew of Flamel must rescue them, and together discover whether Mr. Darwin’s dragon truly exists.
The book will be launched next weekend at Clockwork Alchemy, the San Francisco Bay Area’s steampunk con. But that’s not all. I also have written one of the eleven short stories published in an anthology titled, Next Stop on the #13, put together with many of the talented authors that you’ll be able to meet at Clockwork Alchemy.
If you’re interested in Steampunk and in the Bay Area next weekend (March 22-24), I wholeheartedly recommend you attend and take part in the shenanigans. I’ll be in the Author’s Alley section of the Artist’s Bazaar. Come by and say Hi!
Also, come by and see me at the two panels I’ll be presenting. On Saturday at 2:00 pm, I’ll be giving a talk on Steampunk Architecture, and on Sunday at noon, I will be presenting “How to Research” along with the master of alternative history, Harry Turtledove. (I expect to learn more from him than I teach myself.)
Today, Sept. 22, is the great British scientist Michael Faraday’s 226th birthday.
Faraday’s contribution to science are many, and it’s not too much of an exaggeration to say that before Faraday, electricity was batteries, and afterward, it was Edison and Tesla and all the motors, transformers, and generators they unleashed upon the world.
Faraday’s relationship to science can be summed up in two images: First, Faraday at work at the lab bench in the basement of the Royal Institution, and second, Faraday presiding over a Christmas Lecture–specifically designed for the layman, and for children in particular.
Professionally, I work in a field that is the direct descendant of Faraday–electrochemistry–so Faraday has always been a bit of a hero for me. For more information of Faraday’s life and contributions, see here. I’ve even written Professor Faraday into one of my novels as a major character, “The Secret Notebook of Michael Faraday“.
Isaac Newton, at age 46, portrait by Godfre Kneller, 1689.
Isaac Newton is one of the towering intellects in the history of Science. He formulated the laws of motion, investigated the nature of light, and invented calculus, among many other accomplishments. Less well known, however, are his experiments in chymistry. Continue reading
September 22, 1791 is the birthday of my favorite scientist, Michael Faraday.
Here is a portrait painted of him at age 51, looking much younger than he does in most of his later photographic portraits.
Portrait of Michael Faraday in 1841, painted by Thomas Phillips.
If you’re interested in reading more about this fascinating man, see this blog post. A slightly more fictional Michael Faraday also features prominently in my latest steampunk adventure novel, “The Secret Notebook of Michael Faraday.”
Of late the dispatches from London have concerned a gigantic “fatberg” that has completely blocked one of the main sewer channels under Whitechapel. That the capital’s Victorian sewer system is just now reaching capacity is due to the foresight and engineering genius of Mr. Joseph Bazalgette who was given the mandate to update London’s sewer system following a series of cholera epidemics in the 1830s and 1840s.
When calculating out the dimensions of the pipes, he considered the highest population density producing the most amount of sewage. Then he reportedly said, “Well, we’re only going to do this once and there’s always the unforeseen,” and doubled the diameter. It is estimated that Bazalgette’s prudence bought an extra 50 years of life to his brick-lined sewage channels, so that only now is London needing to upgrade its system.
A very informative article in Prospect Magazine investigates the genesis of the Fatberg in more detail.
The upcoming total solar eclipse prompted me to look into the grand history of scientific expeditions, specifically expeditions to observe rare astronomical events.
Captain Cook’s observatory on Tahiti. Note the carefully mounted long-case clock.
One of the first voyages of discovery was to the newly discovered island of Tahiti (well, at least new to Europeans, the Tahitians obviously already knew it existed) on a ship called HMS Endeavour captained by a young Royal Navy Lieutenant by the name of James Cook. The purpose of the voyage (at least publicly…) was to observe the Transit of Venus of 1769, that is, to watch and accurately time the planet Venus crossing in front of the sun. The ship’s company also included Joseph Banks, the famed botanist who brought along with him several assistants, two artists, and two servants. Charles Green was appointed by the Royal Society to by one of the ship’s astronomers, the other being Cook himself who was a skilled observer.
And why all this expense to travel to the other side of the globe to observe one arcane astronomical event? The public reason was to improve navigation, specifically determination of longitude. While the latitude of a ship at sea was easily determined with a sextant and a sunny noon-time, longitude was more difficult. By comparing the times of the Transit of Venus at various places across the globe–some of whose positions were already accurately known, the longitudes of the observing sites could be determined with greater precision. (The longitude problem was eventually solved by John Harrison and his marine chronometers.)
So the Endeavour reached Tahiti, they timed the Transit, and then Cook opened his second set of sealed orders which essentially said, “Go look for this Terra Australis we keep hearing about, and if you find it, claim it for Britain.” After completely mapping the coast of New Zealand, Cook sailed a bit further west and found Australia.
Later astronomical expeditions were somewhat less imperialistic.
Portrait of Michael Faraday, by Thomas Phillips, 1842. If I were to guess, I’d say the apparatus on the left is a battery.
Michael Faraday, as I hope to convince you by the end of this blog post, was not only the most famous scientist of the Victorian Era, but quite possibly the scientist most responsible for the technological advances that have been achieved since. And considering his humble origins, possibly the least likely to have done so.
After reading the paragraph above, it should come as no surprise that Michael Faraday is my favorite scientist. As an electrochemist, my work owes much–no, everything!–to the discoveries that he made. And so, it was probably inevitable that Faraday would have a cameo appearance in my steampunk adventure novels. Little did I know when I started writing that he would end up being one of the main characters in the book that I just launched, The Secret Notebook of Michael Faraday. While writing in the steampunk genre allows one to bend the truth a bit (as far as I know Faraday did not keep a secret lab notebook), I have endeavoured to depict Faraday for the most part truthfully. His life is sufficiently interesting that it needs little embellishment from me.