just got disappointed by an interesting problem - when someone has already written the book i wanted to write.

i was obsessed by the columbian exposition in chicago in 1893, a spectacle, a city, a tribute to architecture and technology in the "gilded age" (?). gilded or guilded, not sure which, it's an expression i don't use, but it characterizes that time at the end of the century when people were excited about electricity, innovation, technology, and everything that came with it. and it was a precursor, to some degree, to the roaring twenties; there was a panic at the end of it, but it was caused basically by overconfidence and overspending.

so my idea was to set my novel in the chicago world's fair and have a contrast between people who came from the countryside, or foreign countries, and the setting itself, which was many fantastic architectural marvels with lagoons, etc., separating them from the south side. at first i wasn't even clear about where jackson park was (near south side) but i found out and was doing research into the site itself, when i encountered this book. the guy had done something similar to what i thought of.

except that he focused his book on the contrast between the architect who designed the place, and this one mass murderer. the murderer, henry holmes, lured women into a torture chamber near the exposition and then killed them. the book, the devil in the white city, was a best-seller, probably still is, highly ranked and very popular. and non-fiction, which appeals to me.

the more i go along, the more i tend to favor historical reality. that is, making sure as much of the book as possible is true, and actually happened, and is still a gripping story that makes you want to read it from cover to cover. i'm not totally comfortable making up stories anymore, though i've done it for years, and called it fiction, and didn't worry about it. now i want to deal with the truth, and make that a gripping story. so this guy obviously did what i aspire to and is a possible mentor.

the whole thing was sparked by finally taking out a big, wide, coffee table book from maybe 1895, and opening it up. the cover and the first pages have long ago been destroyed and yellowed out by exposure to air. but deep inside it are these black and white photos of the buildings in the exposition, and i can see in them great care on the part of the photographer, and an entirely different appreciation of architecture that was considered revolutionary and new at the time, or, well, maybe, just like the best that they could crank out. i even now love the stuff they made back then, like old science buildings in universities, and wonder why no one has that kind of sense when they build new buildings. maybe it uses up too much asbestos? in any case i wouldn't mind a city of forty or fifty neo-classical (or whatever, my research hasn't really gone all that far) buildings to hang around in and have my main characters running around in.

except that, again this larson guy already did it.