Rob Parnell's Writing Academy Blog

  There’s something intoxicating about the unsolved. The unanswered. The ancient . Whether it’s a weatherworn monument, a forgotten artifact, or a half-scorched scroll that no one can decipher, there’s a whisper of eternity behind every mystery the past has left us. And if you’re a writer—especially one prone to the delicious intoxication of story—those whispers are gold . You see, most stories are built around questions. What if? Who did it? How could this be? What happens next? But sometimes, the best stories begin with a question no one has answered in real life. That’s where ancient mysteries come in. They’re like little narrative time bombs, ticking in the background of history, waiting for the right writer to come along and say, “I’ve got it. I know what really happened.” Take the Baghdad Battery , for instance. Discovered in modern-day Iraq, this humble clay jar—housing a copper tube and an iron rod—dates back over two thousand years. Add vinegar or lemon juice, and presto...

  There are names that should be carved into the collective memory of humanity—and Hypatia of Alexandria is one of them. She wasn’t a conqueror. She didn’t lead armies or rule nations. What she did was far more dangerous: she taught people to think. In a time when empires rose and fell by the sword, Hypatia wielded something more powerful: intellect. Logic. Reason. She was a mathematician, a philosopher, an astronomer, and a teacher of great renown. And for that, in 415 AD, she was brutally murdered by a mob of men—driven by fear, fanaticism, and power politics. Let’s talk about her story. And why, if you’re a writer—especially one who dares to write smart, female, or defiant characters—you need to know her name. A Woman of Reason in a World of Rage Alexandria, in the 4th and 5th centuries, was a city of brilliance and turmoil. Once the intellectual heart of the ancient world, it was now caught in the slow, grinding collision between pagan philosophy and rising Christian aut...

  There’s a deep and essential difference between a preacher and a commentator. Between a politician and a journalist. Between a spin doctor and a critic. And that difference can be summed up in just one word: agenda . It’s not that we mistrust preachers, politicians, or PR flacks simply because they lie—although let’s be honest, some of them certainly do. It’s because we instinctively know they’re giving us a version of the truth that serves their interests. A curated, filtered, often weaponized truth. Not the truth— their truth. A preacher will claim divine authority—he alone has the answers. And if you disagree? You're not just mistaken, you’re damned. A politician will feed you selective data—talking up the positives, burying the negatives, re-framing failure as success. All while ridiculing dissent and dismissing alternate perspectives as irrelevant, ignorant, or dangerous. A modern spin doctor is trained in deflection. When something awful happens, they’ll pivot to som...