Tuesday, January 06, 2026

A romance with Egypt: Katherine Kirkpatrick's To Chase the Glowing Hours

When your life’s most transfiguring experience occurs at age 21, where do you go from there? Do you spend your remaining years seeking to recapture its essence, or can you realistically move ahead, pursuing happiness in other directions?

And are you able to acknowledge the ethical quandaries tied to that shining moment and your family’s very involvement in it?

Pub. by Regal House (Sept. 2025)


Katherine Kirkpatrick’s To Chase the Glowing Hours addresses these themes beautifully in her portrayal of Lady Evelyn (Eve) Herbert, daughter of the Earl of Carnarvon, who was her father’s companion-assistant on his archaeological trips to Egypt.

In 1922, alerted by his longtime archaeologist, Howard Carter, to an impending major discovery, Carnarvon travels with Eve from their home at Highclere Castle in Hampshire, England, to Cairo and then to the Valley of the Kings, where they’re present as the splendor of treasures from the tomb of King Tutankhamun, buried underground for over three millennia, is revealed.

If the novel lingers over these descriptions, it’s no more than they deserve. As Eve glimpses a golden throne appear under her torchlight in the intense desert heat, sees a figurine’s glass eyes reflect as if alive, and detects the exquisite scent of oil preserved in alabaster vessels, we’re there alongside her, feeling her amazement and elation.

Eve also begins falling in love with the man who made it all happen. The handsome, much older Carter is notoriously moody and antisocial, and he treats her with alternating affection and formality. Of the two, only she is unaware that a relationship between them would never work.

The outside world soon intrudes in the form of a governmental inspector assigned to the excavation, Egyptian nationalists wanting the British ejected from their country, and a particularly pushy journalist (since Carnarvon gave his competitors at The Times an exclusive). Eve’s father, too, is obviously ill. In addition to having his costs recompensed, Carnarvon’s prior agreements regarding the tomb would have half the artifacts coming directly to him—which he’s counting on—a typical colonialist sentiment of the period.

An aristocrat eager to support her beloved father, Eve feels this is only fair; the idea of Egyptian treasures belonging solely to Egypt is utterly foreign. Her feelings shift at a sensible pace for someone of her upbringing. Once back at Highclere, she also starts having unexpected feelings for her brother’s friend, Brograve Beauchamp, a potential suitor who sees things differently.

In terms of excitement, Eve’s Downton Abbey-style life at Highclere (the model for the estate in the TV show) can’t compete with her adventures in Egypt, but that’s likely the point. Though her life in either locale is far from what most of us will ever experience ourselves, the medium of fiction brings us into her world as she copes with multiple losses and develops a mature outlook that will stand her well in the future.

To Chase the Glowing Hours was published by Regal House in September 2025, and I reviewed it from a NetGalley copy. This is one of several recent novels about Lady Eve, including Gill Paul's The Collector's Daughter (2021) and Marie Benedict's Daughter of Egypt (2026).

Friday, January 02, 2026

New Year, new platform - Reading the Past is now also on Substack

Best wishes for a good upcoming year, as well as great reading to all of you for 2026! Thanks for following my posts. I always enjoy hearing from everyone, so please feel free to comment or reply with your own thoughts and reading recommendations.

For the last few months, I’ve been pondering the future of Reading the Past and where I’d like to take it. While I appreciate that the platform has been free, the Blogspot/Blogger interface has become antiquated and limiting. I haven’t been able to update the layout for years without risking the loss of important content. It’s not mobile-friendly, and it takes messing with HTML to get pictures and text to center correctly. I’m also under no illusion that Google will keep Blogger around forever. In addition, the Mailchimp software I use for email subscribers, which stopped being free around a year after I adopted it, is functional, but more cumbersome than it needs to be for admins.

About a year ago, I opened an account at Substack since many of my email subscriptions were on that platform, and I wanted to keep track of them all. I claimed a domain there since it asked me for a name, but I didn’t do anything as far as publishing on Substack. Until I had some downtime over the recent holiday break and got to exploring the options a little further. Before, the idea of migrating to a new platform, maybe paying $$$ for a redesign, had been daunting… but according to their Help files, Substack could automate the migration from Blogger.

So I tried it, and within a few hours, most of my 1,969 posts, covering the past twenty years, were copied over to Substack. (All but 53 of them. I don’t know which 53 are missing, which will haunt me, but I’ll learn to live with it.) I love the colorful new layout and its ease of use for subscriber management, and I’m getting familiar with the posting process.

Screenshot of Substack interface
My posts, now on Substack
 

The plan is for my Substack to act as a mirror of the Blogger version of Reading the Past going forward, so if you subscribe via email, you now have options. If you prefer to stick with your current newsletter format, you’re good. It isn’t going away. But if you’d prefer to move to Substack, you can unsubscribe from this site (I won’t judge you) and sign up there at:

https://readingthepast.substack.com
 
If you’re already subscribed to Reading the Past on Substack, even though there wasn’t much to look at until a few days ago, thank you! For those currently subscribed to both, you'll probably want to unsub from one or the other since, apart from the post you’re reading now, you’ll get duplicate content in your inbox if you don’t. Either way, my posts will remain free to read.

Thanks again for reading, and wherever you plan to join me, I’m glad you’re here and look forward to sharing more reviews and historical fiction news in the coming year.