On the Map with LGBT Senior: Visiting the Morris Arboretum in Philadelphia
By Mark McNease

We’d planned the trip for weeks and hoped the weather and circumstances would cooperate. They often don’t — plans with friends, a little back and forth, someone checks the weather, someone else checks the drive. But yesterday we made it happen, and it was the perfect day for it. Frank and I, Doris and Beth, all tucked into the RAV and off to the Morris Arboretum in Chestnut Hill. The town is in Northwest Philadelphia and less than a drive away. What we found there was one of those places that comforts you with its beauty and its quiet. Read more about it, and enjoy the photos! – Mark

A Victorian Estate Turned Public Treasure

The Morris Arboretum began as the private estate of siblings John T. Morris and Lydia T. Morris, who purchased and began landscaping the property in 1887. Both were world travelers with a genuine passion for plants, and they spent decades transforming their summer home into something extraordinary. When Lydia died in 1932, she left the estate to the University of Pennsylvania with instructions that it become a public arboretum. Today it serves as Pennsylvania’s official state arboretum — a fact that somehow feels both surprising and entirely fitting once you’re walking the grounds.

The arboretum contains more than 11,000 labeled plants of over 2,500 taxa, representing the temperate floras of North America, Asia, and Europe. But the numbers don’t prepare you for the feeling of the place — the winding paths, the canopy overhead, the sudden surprise of a Japanese garden or a classical fountain around a bend you didn’t expect.

On May 3rd, 2026, in Lambertville, New Jersey, two authors came together for an afternoon of storytelling, craft, and memoir. Mark McNease shared excerpts from Blank Page to Bookshelf: From First Sentence to First Sale — his guide to fiction writing, character creation, and self-publishing — and Kim Cook shared from her powerful memoir, I Am My Father’s Child: A True Story of History, Mystery, Betrayal, and Forgiveness. Keep watching for a video excerpt from that event.

True Crime Tuesdays – A Fearsome Fiction Podcast Feature: The Black Dahlia

Welcome to True Crime Tuesdays. I’ll be sharing a true crime story every Tuesday on Mark McNease’s Fearsome Fiction Podcast. Narration is provided by my own Wondervox. Fasten your headphones for one of the most famous unsolved murders in the annals of American crime – or is it American madness?

They found her on the morning of January 15th, 1947.

A woman walking with her daughter through a vacant lot in the Leimert Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. She thought at first that what she was seeing was a discarded department store mannequin. A broken one, in two pieces.

It wasn’t a mannequin.

The body had been completely severed at the waist. Drained of blood. Cleaned. Posed with a precision that suggested not rage — but ritual. Her face had been slashed at the corners of the mouth, cutting what investigators would describe as a grotesque grin from ear to ear.

She was twenty-two years old. Her name was Elizabeth Short.

The press would call her the Black Dahlia — a name she never knew in life, but one that would outlast everything else about her.

Welcome to Fearsome Fiction, the podcast that brings you mysteries, thrillers, rare gems, and a weekly True Crime Tuesday.

Today we continue our journey through one of the greatest locked-room mysteries ever written. Published in 1907, Gaston Leroux’s The Mystery of the Yellow Room set the standard for a genre that would captivate readers for generations. A young woman is found brutally attacked inside a room locked from the inside. No one could have entered. No one could have escaped. And yet someone did both. Following the investigation is the brilliant young journalist and amateur detective Joseph Rouletabille — one of fiction’s most ingenious and overlooked heroes — as he unravels a mystery that seems to defy every law of logic and nature. Now for your listening pleasure, another three chapters of Gaston Leroux’s ‘The Mystery of the Yellow Room.’

CLICK THE PLAYER OR HERE TO LISTEN

I’ll be sharing one story at a time in audio version from my collection ‘5 of a Kind: Short Fiction.’ 

“The Gospel According to God”, narrated by my own Wondervox, is the first story the collection. Spanning human history from primordial silence to a chance encounter on a Central Park bench, the story traces what happens when people mistake the infinite for a brick and the boundless for a rulebook — including Eric, a pre-literate mystic who discovers the divine lives inside every person and is killed for saying so.

Threading through the ancient scenes is Melissa, a young theater major from Michigan who arrives in New York City chasing a dream and finds herself ambushed by wonder. Riding subways and navigating the beautiful chaos of the city, she begins to sense something watching back — curious and unhurried.

AI and the End of Talent
By Mark McNease / Editor

Having been given something I know was written by AI and asked what I thought of it, as if the person had written it themself, and responding with “That’s very well written,” I realized that the end of talent – the years of development, the craft, the skill, that unique something that makes a writer a truly good writer – may be upon us. I know a lot of what I read now online is not written by humans, but it’s only recently that I viewed it from the perspective of someone who has been writing for 55 years and who has always enjoyed the thrill of discovering someone who was truly gifted), and realizing that AI is getting so good that it can make talent obsolete.

I’m not a hater. I use Claude, and find it very helpful when I’m stuck on plot, or I need to figure out a transition. But there is a not-so-fine line that, when crossed, makes decades of learning and growing and honing and crafting almost pointless. And that, I think, is the true imposter syndrome: not to believe that we are writers when we’re not, but to believe we are good ones when all we have written are prompts. I started writing at the age of 10 because it was and remains a magical experience, a zone of imagination that requires skill and time and effort and finesse and revision and listening and more revision and the silence of the blank page. To find ourselves approaching a point where “anyone can do that” with ChatGPT or Claude makes it all nearly pointless. I still want to thrill to the discovery of a wordsmith and a talented writer, without wondering if they actually wrote it. Will I stop using AI as a tool? No. Will I let it make me irrelevant? I hope not.

Welcome back to Fearsome Fiction, and to Night Flight to Murder Town: A Marshall James Thriller.

When we last left Marshall, he was finding his footing in a New York City that was as thrilling as it was foreign — a city that moved faster than he did, that asked more of him than he expected, and that seemed to be keeping secrets at every turn.

In tonight’s chapters, those secrets begin to take on weight. Trent hands Marshall a small yellow envelope — a floppy disk he calls “insurance” — and refuses to say more. It’s the kind of thing a man hands off only when he’s afraid of what might happen to it. Or to him.

Marshall puts the envelope away and goes on with his evening, because what else do you do? You put on a borrowed coat, you navigate your first New York City subway ride — tokens and all — and you head to Chelsea for what you tell yourself is just dinner. And maybe something more.

What he finds at Leland’s apartment, though, isn’t dinner. It’s a little white pill and a great deal of persuasion. And with one small word — sure — Marshall James crosses a line he can’t uncross.

Chapters twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four. A disk full of secrets. A train into the dark. And the first of many falls to come.

BUY THE BOOK FROM AMAZON

OR DIRECT FROM MY STOREFRONT

It’s amazing what you can do in a hour creating a 15-secone video.