In remembrance of Christopher (C.W.) Gortner

I wanted to write a post about Christopher (C. W.) Gortner, who passed away suddenly on October 25th, 2025, to the shock and sorrow of the literary community. My friend Christopher was such a vibrant presence that the news has been hard to take in.

He had several specialties within historical fiction: the Tudor era and the Renaissance, the setting for multiple novels and a spy thriller series; and controversial real-life women, like Catherine de Medici, Isabella of Castile, and Coco Chanel. He delved into their motivations convincingly, exploring their inner lives with delicate skill.

Some readers mistook his insights into these women’s characters for full admiration of everything they did – not true – and it’s to his credit that he didn’t shy away from history’s moral complexities.

He spoke frankly about the craziness of the publishing industry, had no tolerance for snobs or injustice, and was the go-to person when you wanted to hear or share the latest gossip or snark (he could snark like no one else). He took on Facebook battles with panache and gallantly stepped in to defend his friends when they were attacked by online trolls.

Christopher had been a reader of this blog from its early days and stopped by here many times as a contributor and commenter. In 2006, when historical fiction was flourishing, he wrote an essay about what he called “histo-romance” and how it related to his publishing journey. He explored the backdrop to The Tudor Secret (a later edition of his debut) and the history and legend of Marlene Dietrich, and we did interviews for The Queen’s Vow, about Isabella of Castile, and The Confessions of Catherine de Medici.

Christopher first dropped into my inbox in 2004, as an up-and-coming author with a spy/adventure thriller (The Secret Lion) not yet printed. He was in search of future review venues and a community of like-minded souls. He soon got a mainstream publishing deal also. Before long, he went from joining a new community to creating and sustaining it, drawing other authors into his large circle of friends. He devoted time to participating in reader forums, because he was an avid reader, too.

On the surface, he and I may not have seemed much alike. He was confidently extroverted and a witty and effortless public speaker. It was typical for booksellers to run out of copies of his books after he spoke on panels. He also had more fashionable taste in shoes than me.

But we quickly built a shared interest in history and bookishness, trading honest takes on old and new novels and the publishing industry. We also had the same experience of having the Cat Distribution System working overtime at our respective houses; he adored the animals he rescued and was a fierce advocate for animal rights.

And about the shoes – they almost caused problems once. We had met up in Chicago for a past ALA Midwinter, where he had a book signing. After dinner, he accompanied me to an evening ALA event. We left the venue and emerged into one of the worst blizzards ever to hit the city, the snow arriving earlier than expected. A moment to laugh about later, but at the time, he, with his expensive footwear, looked aghast. Rather than our walking a few blocks to meet my husband at the hotel, we grabbed a cab, stat, and the shoes survived.

A favorite memory: at the Historical Novel Society conference in Schaumburg in 2009, we were chatting in the hotel lobby when a Publishers Weekly reporter stopped by. Christopher gave her a hilarious 40-second interview about getting into character while writing about Juana of Castile during her pregnancy.

No notes, no prep, perfectly timed – how did he do it?

He had exacting standards for his own writing and advocated for himself in an industry that often seems capricious and unfair. As any author knows, the business of writing can be all-consuming, and there were days if not weeks when his work was the main topic of conversation… but he recognized this intense absorption and would joke about it.

On his Facebook page, he made a point of memorializing those who enriched his life: friends, colleagues, designers, movie stars.  Given his impact on the writing community, it's not surprising for so many people to be doing the same for him, though he left us much too soon. He is greatly missed.