Today is December 18, 2025. On December 18, 2022 my Dad died. On December 16, 2025 the National Museum of Racing and Hall of Fame sent a press release announcing those who’ve been selected for the 2025 Joe Hirsch Media Roll of Honor.

I do not believe in coincidence but I do find the timing interesting. But above all else, I am bursting with pride for Dad to be recognized in this way. I am also feeling bit of self-pride for being the one who went through the thousands of pages of articles to build a presentation for consideration.

As the son of a writer who loves thoroughbred horse racing as much as his Dad, THIS is the pinnacle. THIS is the greatest professional honor he could receive.

To be counted among the elite, the best the business ever saw, is the most wonderfully overwhelming experience.

(Looking up to Heaven…) I love you Dad. You are, now, officially in the eyes of your peers and racing brethren alike, a legend. I may have always thought it, but this confirmed it for the world to know.

Oh Paul.  You poor fellow.

Our guy comes home one day and receives some unexpected news. His husband, Darren, feels he has had enough, and tells him so. Their five year marriage had run its course. They just weren’t the couple they thought themselves to be. 

To add insult to injury Paul had spent months planning a getaway for them both.  A trip to Venice, Italy during the Christmas season. It had all the makings for a romantic getaway.  But now, it’s a romantic getaway for one. 

You see, Paul is a little clingy and Paul can be anxious at times. Maybe neurotic, too. You can ask Darren. But make no mistake, Paul is also a very dear man and a hopeful soul. He is easy to root for. 

Not long after arriving he sees a street dog. A bit scruffy. A little worse for wear.  He went table to table getting scraps and ear scratches. But it was his confidence that caught Paul’s attention.  There was a self assurance he had that Paul wanted. So, he followed him.  He wanted to learn how this dog thrives on its own and walks with the confidence of a lion.  Because he wanted to do that too. 

A novella that is typical Steven Rowley – charming, engaging, well thought out and funny – we play witness to a good man finding an independence he didn’t know he was missing. Furthermore, he is doing it all in the most romantic city on earth. 

With a sincere thanks to NetGalley for the ARC, The Dogs of Venice is set to be released October 14.  Not coincidentally in time for Christmas. 

It was very sweet. I completely enjoyed it and Paul – as I said already – is a hopeful soul. Those are some of our best people. 

And when you’re done with this, go read his book The Guncle.  It’s rare that a book has me laughing out loud. Like, OUT LOUD. The Guncle did … often. 

In the blink of an eye Maddy Banks went from a typical college student, studying at NYU, to a young woman unable to control her behaviors. Manic episodes that scared those who love her in ways they never experienced before, and certainly never saw coming. 

One day at school, and feeling depressed, she went to the students health center to talk to someone. They put her on an antidepressant and that drug triggered the bipolar disorder that was, at the time, (somewhat) dormant. It was then that Maddy became an extreme version of herself – believing Taylor Swift needed her to write her biography and Netflix is going to sign her for a stand up comedy special. 

Listen to me when I tell you this … it ain’t an easy read if you have issues with your mental health.  I do  (depression, not bipolar) and there were instances which brought back memories of my worst time on earth.  Like, being a person I never knew before which prompted the discontinuance of some relationships and changing the way I am seen (or so I believe) by others.

This story could be a rough go for some. 

Lisa Genova did what she always does. She takes a serious health issue which impacts millions (36M worldwide – 7M in the US) and expertly helps us to better understand it.  I mean, Maddy’s manic episodes made me genuinely, and uncomfortably, anxious.  Like REALLY anxious. 

I appreciated so much that her storytelling was done with care, compassion, and thoughtfulness.  She did a lovely job creating a more sympathetic understanding without it being trite or diluting the realities of it. 

There were times the subject matter upset me, through no fault of the author, of course. The memories it stirred, and the hurt that paired with it, evoked a flood of feelings of contrition and sadness. I imagine there will always be something which reminds us of a dark time when fighting this battle.  But that’s ok.  It’s part of our healing process. 

Maddy gets it, too. 

4.25/5.0

I listened to the audio of The Briar Club. The narrator was great.

On the whole, I went back and forth.

The beginning was good, and had me interested. It picked up, got better and I found myself invested. Then, and maybe it was just me, it slowed down some. More than I would have cared for it to. However, there were people I liked very much (Grace, Nora, Xavier, Pete and Duke the dog because, well, it’s a dog and they’re better than people).  Anyway, I digress. I liked them well enough to promise myself I will muscle through and finish. 

I am glad I did. 

Quinn, as you already know, is a very good writer and an equally good storyteller. But there were times I thought I was walking through mud and couldn’t pick my feet up to get going. 

Then, I could. 

A twist here. A twist there. A quickening pace and I couldn’t wait for my next opportunity to listen again. 

She finished strong and I was very pleased with the ending. 

Further, the authors note (love them) and historical notes were terrific once the book ended. Do NOT listen or read them prior to reading the book. It gives away everything. 

I gave 3.75 which means, imo, really really good (4 – 4.9 are high recommendations and 5 means stop what you’re doing and buy this book).

Quinn did well here. Very well.