I have long believed the two finest callings in life are doctor and writer, one ministering to the human condition, the other illuminating it, each capable of transforming it. For many years, I had the privilege of doing both. By day, I was a nephrologist, treating dialysis patients and kidney transplant recipients. By night, I wrote fiction. Now I write full-time—and no longer at night!

The art of fiction and the art of medicine have more in common than you think. Each patient’s illness is a story in which that patient is the main character. Doctors must understand and relate to patients across three dimensions: physical, emotional, and spiritual. Characters in fiction must possess these same dimensions for their stories to seem real. In this way, the roles of doctor and writer are the same—each must understand their characters to act upon their stories.

I became a doctor to help other human beings and engage with them in an intimate and meaningful manner. I write fiction for the same reason—to seek meaning through storytelling and touch lives in an intimate way. Fiction explores meaning in ways science cannot. Sometimes only fiction can discover truth.

Now, about my obsession with the early Roman Republic…

I love all things Rome and always have. I prefer The Aeneid to The Iliad, Livy to Gibbon, and the Republic to the Empire. And while the era from the Gracchi to Augustus is fascinating and colorful—and surpassingly sad—the fall of the Republic is familiar ground in historical fiction. But what of its rise? What of the early years, when the foundation of the Republic was laid?

Both on my blog and in my fiction, the first century of the Roman Republic is what I write about. To more fully understand the history, myths, and legends that shaped it.

For the scant few who may be curious, I earned BA and MD degrees at the University of Minnesota and did my postgraduate medical training at Emory University in Atlanta and the University of California in San Diego. I live now in Orange County, CA.