The Teleportation of Gilbert Perez

A appealing title for a novel I will probably never write.

A small oddity of history: on October 24, 1593, a young soldier in uniform of the Philippine regiment was found wandering dazed in the Plaza Mayor in Mexico City. On being told where he was, he insisted that he had just been on sentry duty in the governor’s palace in Manila — and offered the news that the governor, Gómez Pérez Dasmariñas, had just been murdered. He was confused about the date; he said it was the 25th.

Gil was arrested for desertion and on suspicion of witchcraft, but cleared a few months later when a ship arrived from the Philippines, and one of the passengers testified that he knew Gil and had seen him on duty in Manila on the night of the October 25th.

The earliest records of this are from the 1600’s, and no primary evidence — prison or trial documents — exist.

It just smells like a ripping good story to me — with a little elaboration, of course. Starting with changing Gil’s name to Gilbert because that’s a better title. But then I remembered that I am never going to write a historical novel again. Even if it does have a great title.

So what am I up to? Deep thinking and preliminary noodling on Plain Kate, in response to my agent’s astute comments. Children of Peace is appealing to me — a sequence set in a suburb that’s been abandoned for 400 years particularly so. Bathtub tiles and fire hydrants, drifts of aluminum siding, white-rusted with rain. Haven’t touched Otter since I accidentally created fruit. Poetry has deserted me. I write about Vivian and sleep a lot.