His Effing Nibs is a journal to accompany the creation of my first book of fiction, also called (for now) His Effing Nibs. The book concerns the exploits of an actual historical figure, Lord Timothy Dexter (1747 – 1806), of Newburyport, Massachusetts — colorful outsider, homespun philosopher, and object of ridicule, and therefore my kind of fellow. His story is told by another actual person, Jonathan Plummer (1761 – 1819), an itinerant peddler, physician, preacher, and mystic who wrote up a storm and was employed as Dexter’s “poet lauret.” The book is to be based entirely on fact, though many of the facts are fictional.

In the blog, I will share the most curious things I have learned — and am learning — about my protagonist, his circle, and his age. I will also test some elaborations of my own. You can expect to encounter pious New England slaveholders, distillers of spirituous liquors, the full lexicon of 18th-century swears, and (if you’re good) some hot Colonial sex. Occasionally I will pose a problem or a question, and solicit your response. Whether or not you interact with this blog, I am very grateful to have you as a reader.

If completing the book leaves me with an atom of self-respect, a second Dexter & Plummer book will follow, and a third, and a fourth, until you beg me to stop.

About the title: His Effing Nibs has a dual meaning. In one sense it refers to the nibs of the quill pens with which I intend to do the bulk of my writing. These instruments are tricky to carve, and not easily liberated from the American bald eagles who nest atop the 150-foot pines near my house. The other meaning has to do with Timothy Dexter’s status among the people of old Newburyport, who resented his opulence and mockingly called him “Lord” Dexter. One imagines that he was referred to as “His Nibs” — a term for an entitled, self-important person — on occasion and that people were annoyed when they said it (with the “eff” fully articulated, as was the custom even in those days).

About the banner image: Detail from Le discret, by Joseph, Baron Ducreux (1735 – 1802); digital enhancement by Margot Grisar.

About me: I, David Brittan, am a writer living in Newburyport, Massachusetts. I enjoyed a long career as a magazine editor — in recent years at the helm of Tufts Magazine — before striking off on my own in September 2015. Fiction writing was an early pursuit, to which I have now returned full-time.

Contact: Dbrittan (at) gmail (dot) com. I’d love to hear from you.