Saturday, December 15, 2018

I hate non-fiction, but...

I read a real history book recently. A real one, with names, places, and dates that happened a long time ago. Almost exactly 500 years ago.

To get myself through the editing phase of my murder mystery, I had to come up with something just to keep my happy. So I wrote a really short work about a guy that is haunted by La Malinche. When I realized that I really knew nothing about Aztec (apparently their real name was the Mexica: Me-shi-ka) Dieties or La Malinche.

So I found this book:


And for once, a non-fiction author took me away the way a fictionalize does. He was creative enough that I baked in the tropical sun in full armor along with the other conquistadors, or nearly froze with them as they climbed to the Mexican highlands, I felt the fear of being in a square of only a few hundred Spanish as thousands of Tlaxcalans charged me, felt the sting of almost losing everything on La Noche Triste, and so much more.



My favorite history lessons usually come from Historical Fiction. That is because fictionalists stick to the historical facts, but then weave in the sights, sounds, and feel of the era. And finally a history book writer did the same.

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