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New crime/serial killer saga set in 1979

It begins in 1979.

No cell phones. No GPS. No cameras everywhere. People hitchhiked. Strangers disappeared. And a lonely road could take you somewhere you never intended to go.

DEADLY BYWAYS is my new six-book series of character-driven crime stories set against the dangerous roads and hidden places of the late 1970s and early 1980s.

The first book, THE DUNGEON, is set in 1979.

All six books will be released during the second half of 2026.

THE DUNGEON is available now on Kindle and in Kindle Unlimited.

**View this new crime series on Amazon**

On turning 58

I write this post upon turning 58. To be precise, my 58th birthday is August 9.

This birthday marks a peculiar milestone. I have now reached an age at which I can remember my grandfather.

I passed this milestone with my father decades ago. My parents are only twenty-two years my senior, so I can remember my father at the age of twenty-nine.

But my grandfather? My grandfather was a World War II veteran who experienced the Great Depression. He was truly from a different time.

And yet… my grandfather, born in October 1921, turned 58 in October 1979. I was in the sixth grade then; but I remember late 1979 quite well.

***

This is the point where many people would suggest that fifty or perhaps even sixty (since I’m very close to that milestone too) is the new thirty—or perhaps the new forty. I’ll spare you such bravado. 60 is not the new 30 or the new 40. 60 is 60. And 58 is 58.

That said, I’m relatively fortunate insofar as my health. I’m a lifelong runner and weightlifter, and I’m in reasonably good shape. I’m not going to say that I don’t feel my age at all. But I feel it, I suspect, less than the average man my age.

***

The real problem with reaching this age is not that one feels old, but that the world feels old. I miss times that were more to my liking (even if they were less technologically convenient). I miss many people who are no longer here.

We all eventually reach the stage where the past becomes more important than the future. I suppose I have reached that point. This doesn’t imply a death wish, a state of despair, or a complete indifference to the present or the future.

It does, however, mean that I’ve become a temporal foreigner. I can operate in this era—for the most part—but if I had my choice… I would be somewhere else. Or sometime else.

I suspect that this is part of the normal process of aging. An indifference to the future prepares one for the inevitable day when one will no longer be part of the present. At 58, my journey is more than halfway over. I don’t expect to live to age 116, after all.

I’d like to stretch it out just a little bit longer. But whether that “little bit longer” means three years or 30 years, I’m already grateful. I’ve been blessed with a very good life—better than most.

Wherever you find yourself on your journey, I wish you happy trails, even though it’s my birthday we’re talking about. That’s another thing about being this old. Birthdays are kind of old hat now, too.

-ET

Vietnam Vets and Generation X

Today Vietnam vets are older men in their seventies and eighties. But when I was growing up in the 1970s and 80s, Vietnam vets were young middle-aged men in their thirties and forties.

When I was very young, Vietnam vets were still in their twenties. I was born in 1968, so I have no direct memories of the Vietnam War. I do, however, remember its immediate aftermath. It was a common topic of conversation in the mid-1970s. In those days, the war—as well as the political and social turmoil of the 1960s—were very much in recent memory.

Movies about the American War and Vietnam began to appear in the 1970s. These include Apocalypse Now and The Deer Hunter. Although Taxi Driver is not technically a movie about the Vietnam War, its central character, Travis Bickle, is a disturbed Vietnam War veteran.

And this was the common “meme,” to use an internet-age word: the disturbed Vietnam War veteran. In film and literature, Vietnam vets were often portrayed as brooding, volatile individuals.

It wasn’t until the 1980s that the American Vietnam War experience began to be portrayed with a bit more nuance. The release of the Vietnam War film Platoon, a commercial and critical success, portrayed the Vietnam War as a complex situation in which American soldiers often had to choose the least bad option. As the 1980s concluded, portrayals of Vietnam vets became far less simplistic, more diverse, and more respectful.

I would never attempt to write a novel about the Vietnam experience itself. But I did include a Vietnam vet in my Gen X coming-of-age novel, No Sure Thing. The novel is primarily the story of Paul Nelson, a 19-year-old University of Cincinnati student. But Paul’s mentor, Ron McNab, is a 42-year-old Vietnam vet. (No Sure Thing is set in 1988.)

I would describe the character of Ron McNab as half-fictional. Throughout my formative years, I met many Vietnam vets who shared their experiences with me. Several of them became an inspiration for Ron.

-ET

**View NO SURE THING on Amazon**

Germany banning films… again

We all know the history surrounding Nazi Germany and its authoritarian controls on popular culture. The Third Reich aggressively banned art that the Nazi Party deemed substandard, degenerate, or subversive.

But that was 90 years ago, right? Today Germany is a modern, democratic nation that isn’t afraid of free expression. Right?

Not exactly. The old authoritarian impulses still hold sway in Berlin. Last month German movie regulators refused to assign a rating to director Uwe Boll’s Citizen Vigilante. Since it is illegal to distribute films in Germany that have not been rated, this effectively banned Citizen Vigilante from the Bundesrepublik Deutschland.

Citizen Vigilante stars Armie Hammer as Michael Sanders, a vigilante who hunts down rapists and violent criminals, many of whom are migrants from Islamic countries.

The movie is an unsubtle statement on government policies that have tolerated—and perhaps even encouraged—mass migration from the Middle East to destinations in the European Union and (to a lesser extent) North America. (Uwe Boll is a German filmmaker.)

By all accounts, Citizen Vigilante is not a pleasant film, and perhaps you could argue that it is not even a particularly good one. But if present headlines are any indication, this is a debate that is not going away anytime soon. The backlash against mass migration is not limited to the Trump-voting sectors of America. The same backlash has been building in Europe for quite some time now. The immigration issue is the primary reason for the recent successes of Germany’s right-leaning Alternative für Deutschland (AfD).

In the internet age, you simply cannot stamp out ideas. After the movie was suppressed in Germany, Elon Musk made it available for 48 hours, free of charge, on his X platform.

I didn’t hear about the movie because of Elon Musk, however. I learned of Citizen Vigilante when I read a finger-wagging article decrying the film’s very existence. It probably would have escaped my notice otherwise. That’s the irony of cancel culture: the very act of denouncing something has the unintended consequence of amplifying it.

I haven’t seen Citizen Vigilante, though I’ve seen clips of some of its most controversial scenes. By all indications, the movie is boilerplate vigilante spectacle. That’s an old genre in entertainment. It goes all the way back to the Race Williams detective stories published in Black Mask in the 1920s, when large numbers of Americans were anxious about rising crime rates. In the 1970s, it was manifest in the Death Wish vigilante films starring the already fifty-something Charles Bronson.

The notion of citizens taking the law into their own hands is an uncomfortable topic for a film. But when such movies become popular, it is usually because of some genuine grassroots frustration with the status quo. Perhaps this is the issue that the German government should really be paying attention to, rather than trying to ban what is, by all accounts, a rather mediocre movie.

Although the Third Reich ended more than eighty years ago, German authorities are still uncomfortable with the concept of unregulated speech. They are also, apparently, unfamiliar with the concept of reverse psychology.

Never before have so many movies, videos, and whatnot competed for our attention. The best way to convince people to seek out an otherwise obscure movie is for a government to declare its director a pariah and his movie verboten. Citizen Vigilante received over 10.5 million views, from all over the world, during its 48-hour free run on X.

-ET

One more American soccer fan

Soccer was regarded as a somewhat newfangled sport when I was an adolescent and teenager in the first half of the 1980s. If you were a soccer fan, people might have suspected that you were going out of your way to be different or “special”.

I once asked my uncle if he ever watched soccer. “Well,” he said wryly, “soccer might be all right if you were a European.”

I fully grasped my uncle’s sentiment, even if I didn’t entirely agree with it. In that time and place, there were only three sports that counted: football, basketball, and baseball.

I ran track and cross country in high school. While no one regarded the running sports as aberrant, no one cared much about them, either. I don’t remember many spectators at our track meets—even when our team was doing well.

My high school got its first boys’ soccer team while I was a student there. The team did quite well, as I recall, winning a state championship in 1984. This was appreciated, of course; but the soccer team still played second fiddle to the football team in the fall athletic season. No one saw this as a great injustice or irony. It was just the way things were.

Soccer has become far more popular in the four decades since then. But it has become popular primarily as a sport that Americans play—not watch. And most of the Americans who play soccer are of student age.

Consider the numbers. The Super Bowl routinely pulls in 123 million to 128 million domestic viewers in the US. Even a World Cup final match struggles to pull in half that… in the US, that is. Globally, about 1.5 to 1.8 billion people follow the World Cup. American football, by contrast, has almost no bounce beyond US borders.

I have never been much into watching other people play sports. (Another thing about the US: our passion for spectator sports has risen in proportion to our obesity rates. But that’s another essay.) My personal disinterest, coupled with my indifference to soccer as an American, prejudiced me against watching the 2026 World Cup. I wasn’t against it; I just didn’t care.

And then I started watching—just to see what all the fuss was about, at first. Somewhat against my will, I got hooked. By the final match between Spain and Argentina, I was a moderately enthusiastic World Cup fan.

I discovered that there are some things about soccer that I particularly like. For one thing, it is one of the few remaining sports that a normal-sized person can play at a professional level. Pro basketball is now a game for people who are almost seven feet tall. I’m only 5’10”. I simply can’t relate to pro basketball. But the average World Cup soccer player is very close to my height.

Soccer is a fast-moving game. This is a quality that it shares with hockey. One cannot watch a soccer game with half one’s attention. One must either focus on the game, or focus on something else. The action is simply that engrossing.

I know that some Europeans can become rabid partisans of one team or another. Riots at European soccer venues have been a well-documented phenomenon for years.

I’ll probably never attend a match in person and I’d certainly never riot over the outcome of such a contest. But by the end of the 2026 World Cup, I was enthusiastically rooting for Spain. There were too many instances of poor sportsmanship on the Argentinian side, while the Spanish team struck me as a class act.

Soccer will probably never be as popular in the USA as pro football. The NFL is simply too entrenched in the American psyche. But pro soccer now has at least one new American fan. I’ll almost certainly watch the World Cup in 2030, and probably some additional tournaments in the interim.

-ET

Daniel Ortega: history repeats itself

Which Latin American strongman was most on the mind of the American president in 1986? Daniel Ortega, the dictator of Nicaragua.

Ortega, a Marxist protégé of the USSR, ruled Nicaragua throughout the 1980s. The Reagan administration provided aid to the Nicaraguan Contra rebels, often through clandestine means. This led to the infamous Iran-Contra scandal of Reagan’s second term in office.

Time Magazine, March 1986

There was talk in some quarters about direct U.S. intervention in the Latin American nation in the 1980s, though I don’t think this was ever seriously on the table.

Ortega was eventually ousted from within and found himself out of power for seventeen years, from 1990 to 2007. Then he came back into power. Ortega’s second dictatorship has lasted for almost 20 years now.

The 80-year-old Ortega has just declared that Nicaragua will no longer hold elections at all. We’re back to the 1980s.

No, I’m not about to suggest that the US should attempt to force a regime change in Nicaragua. That was a bad idea in 1986, and it’s a bad idea now. From the U.S. perspective, the situation in Nicaragua is a nuisance, not an existential threat.

But we may consider the irony. So much has changed since the mid-1980s. (To consider the matter from a personal perspective, I turned 18 in 1986, the year I graduated from high school. I will soon turn 58.)

There are, however, some constants in this ever-changing world. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

-ET

Blood Flats Kindle countdown deal through July 24

What if the safest place you ever knew became the most dangerous?

Lee McCabe returns from Iraq expecting peace.

Instead he walks into murder, corruption, and a county where everyone seems to have something to hide.

His only choices:

Fight.
Run.
Or die.

BLOOD FLATS is just $1.99 through July 24.

**Get it on Amazon**

Debbie Gibson’s bikini and social media marketing trends

Source: Debbie Gibson, Facebook

Debbie Gibson has been showing up in my personal Facebook feed of late, even though I haven’t subscribed to her, and even though I’ve never been a particular devotee of her music.

This is probably because of demographics. I’m a Gen Xer in my 50s. Debbie Gibson is a pop star from the 1980s. Therefore, Meta reasons that I should be a Debbie Gibson fan.

(And just to be clear about this: I never actively disliked Debbie Gibson or her music. But I was never really part of her target audience, either. She specialized in a brand of pop love songs that were written for 14-year-old girls enduring their first serious crushes. Debbie Gibson’s breakout year was 1988. In 1988 I was a 20-year-old male.)

This morning Debbie Gibson showed up in my Facebook feed wearing a bikini. Now once again it is necessary for me to provide a disclaimer. Gibson looks damn good in her swimwear, for a woman of any age. So there’s no “body shaming” going on here.

But the economist in me has to wonder… What compels a 55-year-old woman who has been famous for 40 years to post bikini photos of herself on social media? That might make sense for an up-and-coming, wannabe social media influencer. But Debbie Gibson, who has been famous since Ronald Reagan was in the White House? 

I think it might have something to do with the way media marketing has changed since the halcyon 1980s.

Forty years ago, Debbie Gibson’s marketing cycle looked something like this:

  1. Release an album.
  2. Record a music video.
  3. Appear on MTV.
  4. Do magazine interviews.
  5. Maybe appear on television.
  6. Disappear until the next album.

In the old days, marketing assets were expensive to produce and deliver. Barriers to entry were high. Therefore, marketing tended to occur in high-end, highly curated campaigns.

The internet and social media all but eliminated those barriers to entry. Now everyone, from your local plumber to your next-door neighbor’s daughter, can achieve more marketing presence than would have been possible for Debbie Gibson in 1987. As a result, everyone who hawks their wares online needs to market themselves like your local plumber or your next-door neighbor’s daughter.

There is nothing conspiratorial or sinister about this. Technology and economics are doing their thing.

All of this seems second-nature to anyone under the age of 30. But to those of us who can remember the previous century well, the shift in the media landscape can often be discombobulating. I wonder if Debbie Gibson would agree.

-ET

The expanding 12 Hours of Halloween story world

When I published 12 Hours of Halloween, I thought of it as a standalone novel.

Over time, however, I realized that the setting itself had far more stories to tell.

Halloween in suburban Cincinnati during the Gen X era provides a unique backdrop for supernatural fiction. Kids still roamed neighborhoods after dark without cell phones. Parents gave them a little more freedom. Familiar streets, parks, and neighborhoods became places of mystery once the sun went down.

That world is simply too rich to leave behind after a single novel.

My newest story, The Gold Coin and the Crow, expands that universe.

Like 12 Hours of Halloween, it takes place on Halloween night in 1980. It features a different cast of characters and tells a completely standalone story, so you can read it whether you’ve already read the novel or not.

The story begins with what seems like a simple trick-or-treat stop. A strange homeowner has no candy to offer, but he does have something far more tempting: nineteenth-century gold coins scattered throughout his backyard.

There is only one catch.

You have to get past the crow.

From there, the story becomes an increasingly strange journey into the supernatural, filled with the nostalgic atmosphere of suburban Halloween nights, childhood curiosity, and the unsettling feeling that the ordinary world may not be quite as ordinary as it appears.

If you enjoyed the mood, setting, and Gen X nostalgia of 12 Hours of Halloween, I think you’ll feel right at home in The Gold Coin and the Crow.

This is also just the beginning.

My goal is to continue expanding the 12 Hours of Halloween story world with additional tales set during different Halloween seasons, following different characters, and exploring new supernatural mysteries—all while returning to the same familiar world of autumn nights, suburban neighborhoods, and the strange things that sometimes happen when the barriers between worlds grow thin.

Because some things can only happen on Halloween.

**View THE GOLD COIN AND THE CROW on Amazon**

The last acceptable prejudice? Age discrimination goes both ways.

I will never be accused of age discrimination. I find that people of various ages get on my nerves more or less equally, albeit in different ways.

The twenty-somethings with their neurotic cell phone obsessions… the aging Baby Boomers who dawdle and shuffle about… the now-forty-something Millennials who are still trying to be hipsters, as if the calendar had been pushed back to 2005.

And we haven’t even gotten to children and teenagers yet.

The point here is that people of all ages can be annoying, so there is no reason to discriminate against any of them, in a knee-jerk, automated manner.

Bethany Michel, who is now 28, moved to a retirement community in Florida in 2020 to take care of her terminally ill father. This was obviously during the COVID pandemic. Her father subsequently passed away and she inherited the house from him in 2023.

The HOA in Michel’s neighborhood is now trying to force her out, apparently, because she is under the age of 55. The campaign to oust her began three months after her father’s death, when she received a letter informing her that she did not meet the requirements for residency. (Although she was an adult, she was too young for the 55+ community.) The HOA is now trying to evict her with formal legal measures.

Age discrimination is one of the last socially acceptable forms of discrimination. Often it is directed at those of us who are older.

I will soon turn 58. Every now and then I’ll see the term “creepy old man” tossed about on the internet, on social media or elsewhere. What’s the deal with that? Does anyone seriously believe that a 30-year-old man can’t be creepy? I can show you a lot of evidence to the contrary.

A more systematic, though carefully hidden, form of age discrimination is used in job interview situations. There are some hiring managers in corporate America who don’t believe that people over 50 are capable of learning newfangled things. (Once again, I could provide plenty of evidence to the contrary.)

But there is also an ilk of people over 55 who seek to discriminate against younger adults—especially those younger adults with children.

Many of them live in age-restricted 55+ communities. Such communities are legal under the Housing for Older Persons Act (HOPA) of 1995.

Many of these communities provide exemptions for live-in caregivers. For example, The Villages, a huge retirement community in Central Florida, will allow the under-55 to reside within their hoary confines so long as:

“at least one member of your household is 55 and you are not younger than 19 years old.”

And they’re serious about those under-19-year-olds. The Villages “absolutely” does “welcome children and grandchildren”… to a point. “Please note,” the community’s website informs us, “visitors under the age of 18 are limited to 30 days in the calendar year.”

Unless, that is, the under-18-year-old is a pit bull or a Rottweiler. The Villages is aggressively pet-friendly. The community has many dog-walking paths and parks.

Certain forms of “age discrimination” are both commonsense and unavoidable. We have all been exasperated by the twenty-something who purports to have all the answers to all the world’s problems. Romantic relationships with vast age gaps—even among consenting adults—will always raise eyebrows.

But where ordinary social interaction is concerned, we are becoming a bit too precious as a society if we now demand the right to only associate with those who were born in the same decade as us. On the contrary, this is an area where we could all benefit from a little more diversity.

One of my friends at my local gym is a guy named Bob. Bob, who is exactly 30 years my senior, will turn 88 this year. Bob was a well-known college basketball player in the early 1960s. I love listening to his sports stories. I also enjoy talking with him about the way America was during the Eisenhower and Kennedy years.

This doesn’t mean that I now want to restrict my company to people on the verge of 90. I also enjoy interactions with twenty-somethings, much as they sometimes frustrate me. I occasionally get ideas from my twenty-something acquaintances that I simply wouldn’t have gotten anywhere else.

At the same time, I enjoy interacting with my fellow Gen Xers, now mostly fifty-something adults who fondly remember what it was like to come of age in the 1980s and early 1990s.

If you spend too much time talking to only Gen Xers, though, you’ll develop a worldview that is a little too cynical and sarcastic. I find that I benefit from deliberately pulling myself out of the Gen X bubble at regular intervals.

This was true even when I was a teen and twenty-something myself. At that time, everyone who was significantly younger than me was literally a child. Most of my age-disparate interactions, therefore, took place with older adults. I enjoyed listening to the Baby Boomers’ stories about Vietnam and the 1960s. I enjoyed listening to my World War II generation grandparents tell me about the 1930s and 1940s. I never wanted to live in an age-restricted bubble.

Back to Bethany Michel and her housing fight. There are photos of the 28-year-old online. She’s blonde and very easy on the eyes. And while I’m perfectly happy with my current next-door neighbors, I would not shriek in horror if Ms. Michel were to purchase their home.

So who, exactly, is so offended by her presence? And why? And why would The Villages want to severely restrict the presence of younger people, as if anyone under the age of 19 will turn into a flesh-eating zombie after 30 days?

As for me, I’d be a lot more annoyed by all the dogs.

-ET

NO SURE THING: A GEN X COMING-OF-AGE NOVEL SET IN 1988

Not autobiographical–but inspired by my own experiences during the late 1980s in Cincinnati, Ohio.

View it on Amazon

KUWA 6226: a tale of an online urban legend!

I released a new book over the weekend: KUWA 6226!

This is the story of a deadly online urban legend. (See description below!)

View it on Amazon!

Kuwa6226 is a deadly online urban legend!

Throughout the world, people who make Internet inquiries about Kuwa6226 meet violent deaths.

In online forums and chatrooms, people are warned not to mention the mysterious entity.

But who, or what, is Kuwa6226? A supernatural force? A cult? A global conspiracy?

Most people say that it’s better not to ask…and Kuwa6226’s reign of terror goes unchallenged.



***

 

Then two unlikely sleuths, from opposite sides of the world, unite.

Minoru Watase is a corporate IT employee in Japan. Julie Lawrence is a college student in the American Pacific Northwest.

Julie and Minoru have each lost a friend to Kuwa6226. Together, they are determined to discover Kuwa6226’s true identity and eliminate the menace.

Their search will take them from the streets of Tokyo to an American college town in Washington State. When they finally come face-to-face with Kuwa6226, Julie and Minoru will be unprepared for the revelation…and the ruthlessness of their adversary!

Kuwa 6226 is a horror-mystery with endless twists and turns!

Remembering Boy’s Life, and my brief stint as a Boy Scout

I was briefly involved in the Boy Scouts from 1979 to 1980, when I was 11 years old.

I will admit that I was somewhat lukewarm about being a Boy Scout from the get-go. I got involved with scouting at the behest of a friend of mine. We are still friends today, but I have learned not to take his advice on important life decisions.

Don’t get me wrong: I had a great time as a Boy Scout. I made some friends in the Boy Scouts who are still friends today, some 45 years later. (Or well—at least they’re friends on Facebook.)

The things I liked about the Boy Scouts included the merit badge system. Even as a youngster, I liked the idea of diving into subjects and learning about them from the inside out. I earned a respectable handful of merit badges.

My big problem with the Boy Scouts was camping. I never learned to enjoy sleeping in a tent. Nor did I enjoy making complete meals out of Spam and deviled ham.

And as for answering calls of nature out in the woods… well, we won’t even go there.

A Boy Scout who doesn’t like camping? Whoever heard of that?  That’s why I didn’t last long in the Boy Scouts.

As a result, I made it only to the rank of Second Class. No Eagle Scout bragging rights here.

The official magazine of the Boy Scouts was Boy’s Life. I would have been a member in January 1980, when the issue below was released.

Boy’s Life contained articles about fishing, camping, and other outdoorsy stuff. There was content about history, and profiles of professional athletes. This was the right magazine for me at that age. I enjoyed Boy’s Life a lot more than I enjoyed the campouts.

I understand that Boy’s Life has been renamed Scout Life, to conform to the new coed nature of scouting. The BSA began admitting girls in 2018. In 2025, the Boy Scouts of America officially changed its name to Scouting America.

There have been other changes, as well. It really isn’t the same organization I was involved in back in 1979 to 1980. I have no official opinion on Scouting America, and I’m much, much too old to be reading Scout Life, anyway. 

-ET

The $1,000 Catholic High School

What Ohio’s school voucher system may have done to the cost of private education

I attended Catholic schools for most of my K–12 years.

I went to a public kindergarten. From first grade through eighth grade, I attended a parish school on the east side of Cincinnati.

I completed my high school education at a Catholic school that was also located on the east side of Cincinnati. (And, as we will shortly discuss, still is.)

I’m not here to apologize for attending Catholic schools. Nor do I have any horror stories to relate. My educational experience was almost uniformly pleasant. My teachers were dedicated, responsible adults. As for my peers—well, high school was high school—but most of them were pretty nice people, on balance.

My public school options were not horrible by the standards of the 1970s and 1980s. But I’m glad my parents spent the extra money to send me to Catholic schools.

But how much money?

When I graduated from high school in 1986, my parents were spending about $1,000 per year on my tuition. That’s about $3,100 in present-day dollars.

Tuition at the high school I attended now costs more than five times that inflation-adjusted amount. Tuition at my former high school costs about $15,000 per year. Additional fees bring the total to nearly $17,000 per year.

What the heck happened?

Back in the 1980s, tuition-based Catholic schools operated under market constraints. All private schools did, for that matter. They could charge only what families could feasibly afford. Therefore, they had to keep their operating costs in line.

In the mid-1980s, my high school had two full-time administrators. There was one full-time guidance counselor.

And that was for a student body of about two thousand kids.

The high school I attended now has fewer than half that many students. According to the internet, about 700 students now attend my alma mater.

But, as you might have guessed, my old high school now has more administrators. (In fact, one of my former classmates is the Director of Admissions there.)

I’ve also noticed that the school has gone on a building spree in recent years. When I was a student there in the 1980s, we all used more or less the same facilities that my mother and her classmates had used in the 1960s. (My mother was a 1964 graduate of the same school.) Our accommodations were comfortable, but not luxurious. (And when you’re 15, 16, or 17 years old, who really cares about plush surroundings, anyway?)

But now every alumni newsletter from my former high school seems to feature some new building project. I was last inside the school for an alumni activity about a decade ago. I could barely recognize the place.

So…what the heck happened?

Government money is what happened.

Ohio has a program called EdChoice, aka a “voucher system.” In Ohio, families can receive up to $8,408 in voucher assistance for private high school tuition.

If half of the students at my alma mater are receiving the full EdChoice stipend, that would mean an annual influx of about $2.9 million. Give that much money to any group of educational administrators, and they’ll spend like drunken sailors on shore leave.

There are two sides to the school voucher debate. The first is that school vouchers siphon money from the public school system. While that issue is well worth considering, an equally serious problem is that school vouchers can artificially inflate costs at private schools. I know—because I had a quite satisfactory educational experience at a private Catholic high school during the mid-1980s for about a fifth of its current, inflation-adjusted cost.

Government money, I should note, is not the only type of external funding that can inflate costs. I’ve noticed a sharp increase in the cost of glasses and eye care over the years. (I’ve worn prescription lenses since 1978.) A few decades ago, insurance companies were not involved in routine eye care to the extent they are today. Now they are, and the costs we all pay have risen concomitantly.

You’ve no doubt had the experience of receiving a $1,600 bill for some routine medical test. Why do these tests cost so much? Because, in most cases, an external insurance provider will ultimately be paying the bill.

Whether that insurance provider is the government or a corporation is immaterial from an inflationary standpoint. Third-party insurance payments tend to weaken the market constraints that would otherwise keep prices in check.

So do school vouchers, it seems.

Meanwhile, public education funding is in a perpetual mess here in the Buckeye State. Many of the local districts do not have regular bus service. Each year, there are rancorous debates over school levies and property taxes, which fund public schools in Ohio.

These are problems that we did not have in the 1980s. Granted, I was not a homeowner paying property taxes in 1986, but I don’t remember my parents complaining about the property taxes they shelled out. (Nowadays, everyone in Ohio grouses about how high their property taxes are.) Nor was there ever a problem providing school buses for both public school kids and parochial school kids.

I reiterate: I am not a foe of Catholic schools. On the contrary, I’m both a fan and a beneficiary of them. But they were a lot more affordable—for both parents and taxpayers—before school vouchers came into the picture.

EdChoice is not a panacea for parents. If a family receives the full $8,408 in EdChoice assistance for tuition to my old high school, that still leaves about $8,600 out of pocket. That’s an inflation-adjusted net cost of nearly three times what my parents paid in the 1980s.

—ET

Kindle Unlimited, and going where the readers are

There is a cashier at a nearby grocery store where I regularly shop. She is an avid reader of my books.

This woman (I’ll call her Beverly) is probably in her mid-forties. Like me, she has spent most of her life in Ohio.

Beverly subscribes to Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited program, and she reads most of my books through KU.

The other day, I asked Beverly if she did much reading on non-Amazon platforms such as Apple Books, Google Play, Barnes & Noble, or Kobo.

Beverly gave me a perplexed look.

“Why?” she asked, honestly surprised by the question. (She had never even heard of Kobo—or, at best, was only vaguely aware that it existed.)

I grew up in an era when the retail book market was wonderfully distributed and diverse. We had Waldenbooks and B. Dalton in the local mall. There were independent bookstores throughout the eastern Cincinnati suburbs where I lived. There were also at least two bookstores serving the University of Cincinnati, which I attended in the late 1980s.

When the brick-and-mortar superstores Borders and Barnes & Noble came to Cincinnati in the 1990s, the retail book market consolidated somewhat—but not all that much. There were still no online book sales, and the market was large enough to support multiple retailers.

That’s the way I prefer things to be. But as is so often the case in the twenty-first century, I find myself out of step with the times.

A few months ago, I took a handful of my ebook titles wide, meaning that I removed them from Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited program (which requires exclusivity) and made them available through Google Play, Apple Books, Kobo, and Barnes & Noble.

This past week, I decided to remove those books from wide distribution and place them back into Kindle Unlimited. That decision was based on sales data, as well as further analysis of broader market trends. One factor was the overwhelming cost competitiveness of Amazon’s Kindle devices.

As a result, seven of my titles will be returning to Kindle Unlimited. This process should be complete by the end of the month. It is taking longer than I expected because several of Kobo’s international bookseller partners have been slow to delist the titles, and I cannot enroll them in Kindle Unlimited until they have been fully removed from those sites.

These are the titles that will be returning to KU over the coming weeks. You can find all of them on my Amazon author page:

  • The Consultant
  • No Sure Thing
  • 12 Hours of Halloween
  • Revolutionary Ghosts
  • Hay Moon and Other Stories
  • Eleven Miles of Night
  • Involuntary Deeds

-ET

A disappearance in Crosley Tower

The Woman in Crosley Tower is a new title for preorder in my Uncanny Ohio series. It’s a novella of about 24,000 words. The novella will be released on June 26, 2026.

This horror/dark fantasy story is based on a single question: What would happen if a woman disappeared inside a building in the University of Cincinnati during the summer of 1987, and emerged 39 years later?

There is a lot more to it than that, of course. This is a story for fans of parallel world stories, and tales of liminal zones (like the “backrooms” urban legend). And since much of the story is set in 1987, there is also a generous portion of Gen X nostalgia, an element which is rapidly becoming part of my “brand”.

I’ll have some more posts about The Woman in Crosley Tower in the days and weeks ahead. For now, here is the Amazon pre-order link.

The Woman in Crosley Tower will be initially released in digital-only format (Kindle). For those of you who like to read on paper (and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, of course!) the title will be released in a combined volume with several other Uncanny Ohio titles later in the summer/fall.

Also, The Woman in Crosley Tower will be in Kindle Unlimited, at least for the foreseeable future. So you can read it there if you’re a Kindle Unlimited subscriber.

-ET