You’ve landed at the e-home of Maureen Ogle –  historian, author, ranter.

It’s December 22, 2022 as I write this. Ten days ago, I deleted my Twitter account. Which meant I had to update the ol’ icons: delete blue bird, replace with mastodon link.

While I was here, I realized I should update (very) old content.

So here. Have an update.

Basics

In 2019, I issued a revised version of my (now antiquated) beer book: Ambitious Brew: A History of American Beer is a tale of two centuries of American beer history.

In 2013, I published In Meat We Trust: 150 years of Americans raising, processing, selling, cooking, and eating meat.

In 2023, I am revising that book for publication in late year.

(Side note: the book was a total bust. Publisher printed 2,000 books. I got the rights back. I’m publishing the revision (The existing copies are currently, comically expensive.)

I’ve also written histories of Key West, Florida, and American household plumbing.

Currently working on:

For what I will only describe as a painful number of years, I’ve wrestled a project that has morphed three times.

I finally figured out what I’m doing and now it’s full-speed ahead. But . . . .

I am the author, production manager, editor, copyeditor (1 of 2), proofreader. I only have soooo much time in the day or week or month. And I’m 69. (And if you are over 60, you get that point, eh?)

Anyway, this new book is about “alcohol.”

As an idea; as a bit of human culture.

It explores humans’ encounters with alcohol.

The book opens in the 1650s. Dakota control access to the Minnesota River valley, and to the Mississippi, from its headwaters to Minnesota’s mouth. Part One explores their encounter with a new wakan/spirit: “spirits,” in this case brandy and with its importers, French and English-speaking pale faced people in the sixteenth century to the Americans in the early nineteenth.

Part Two unfolds in the central Minnesota River valley, on the land where the Cottonwood River spills into the Minnesota. In the 1850s, Dakota were “removed” from the region. Among those who replaced them were a group of white, German-speaking investors who founded the town of New Ulm. Their luggage included an alcohol culture decidedly different from the one planted by Americans a half century earliery.

The settlers included Theresia and August Schell. In 1861, they opened a bierhaus, a brauerie, in the woods on a bluff above the Cottonwood. New Ulm sits below. Today, 2023, the Schell-Marti family is still brewing in the same brewhouse on a ridge above two rivers. Part Three is their story.

Cool, eh?

Technical Stuff

I earned a Masters and Ph.D. in American history from the (long since budget-chopped) History of Technology and Science Program at the Department of History at Iowa State University. Focus: “technology.” Specifically urban America. 

My "tenure book" was All the Modern Conveniences: American Household Plumbing, 1840-1890. Let the puns fly. (Come up with one I've not yet heard, and a signed copy of some book or other is yours, pal.)

In 1999, I escaped from academia because I wanted a life.

In 2023, I do what I’ve done since my escape: write history for the rest of us.

I’ve always lived in central North America, on a riverine-rich prairie that runs, roughly from south of the Minnesota River to roughly, St. Louis. The prairie’s rivers are saddled by the Mississippi on the east and the Missouri on the west. For centuries, they bustled with Indian traffic. From the 1850s to the 1970s, it was occupied by English-speaking whites. In 2023, that group maintains firm control of the region. The population, however, includes significant numbers of [mostly non-voting] “non-whites”, many of whom do not speak English.

The Blog

I used to blog. A lot. And I mean a lot.

But then I got older and trying to write books and blog regularly and live a satisfying life in the 3-D world . . . well, it got to be a bit much.

As for the blog, it’s a trainwreck. Blogs are supposed to focused! and targeted! and specific! and consistent! And the entries are supposed to be brief.

Mine fails in every category. It wanders from beer to history to meat; from the pleasures of writing to the future of “print,” with regular stops to ponder life’s daily weirdness. Fact is, I regard blogging as an extraordinary tool for creativity. [For more, see The Sticky Post.] I’ve written multiple blog series; for those, see the Books/Projects page.

For a sense of the blog's scope, check the categories in the sidebar at the Observation Post. 

 Answers to Frequently Asked Questions

1. Yes, I love speaking to audiences. (For money, of course.) (I’d do it for free if I could. Should I someday win The Lottery, I will.) Shoot me an email. Shoot me an email even if you don’t want me to speak to your group or organization. I’m easy.

2. Yes, I’m a real historian. Well, okay — I have a Ph.D. in history. In some eyes, that makes me a “real” historian.

3. My most recent book is IN MEAT WE TRUST: An Unexpected History of Carnivore America.

4. Yes, it takes me a long time to write a book. I’m a one-woman operation: I do my own research and writing, both of which are labor- and time-intensive. Plus, I’m a stickler for accuracy. I don’t make up the facts in my books.

5. If you buy one of my books, great! Borrow it from a library? Please do! Makes no difference how/where you lay hands on a book; what matters is that you care enough to read.

6. Yes, this site (built c. 2007??) is minimalist, intentionally so. I know the current fashion is for lots of images and gee-gaws, and that’s great for those who want them. BUT: This is a work space; an extension of my home office. As such, I want an uncluttered “desk.” So: lots of white space, few images. User friendly, as we said back in the day. You should be able to find whatever you're looking for. And lots that you didn’t know you wanted. Because you DO want to read my 13-part blog series, right?

Thanks for stopping by — and for making books and reading part of your life.