When I tell people what genre I write in, they react with virtually the same question: "How do you get through all that research?" Truthfully, research is probably the easiest part. All research is is the location, collation, and assimilation of pre-existing facts. Others have done the hard work; all I have to do is sift through it and find the parts I can use -- the parts that will give texture and flavor to an historical event. If that's easy, you ask, then what's the hard part? The hard part, Gentle Readers, is making up the stuff not covered in the history books.

Actually, let me rephrase that: the hard part is making up the stuff the history books don't cover, and making it as seamless and unintrusive as possible. The invented bits have to look like they belong. For quite a while, I've been struggling through part of Memnon that is barely attested to in the historical record -- the ten year exile of Memnon, Artabazus, and their family at the court of King Philip of Macedon (Alexander's father). The exile lasted a decade, from 353 to 343 BCE, and during that time there's no evidence as to what Memnon might have done. Did he travel? Did he fight in the many wars of King Philip? Did he sit on his porch and sip the Greek equivalent of a mint julip while an unknown/unnamed wife spit out sons and daughters? Being a drama laced with doses of action/adventure, I did what I deemed best for the flow of action: I sent him out to Egypt to aid his brother in that countries defense against Persia. Honestly, I've invented so much of his life that the historical figure of Memnon would likely not recognize himself; he'd marvel at the fictional character who bears his name. But, in the absence of evidence, I have had little choice.

Soon, though, I'll be back in well-attested territory. The defense of Asia looms on the horizon: the battle at the Granicus River, the sieges of Miletus and Halicarnassus, the forging of an amphibious assault force to take the war back to Macedon, and, finally, sad Mytilene and the uncaring shears of Atropos. Perhaps in this final quarter of the book Memnon-the-man will recognize himself in Memnon-the-character . . . and be content.