Seven Hills book cover

A novel about friendship, buried secrets, and the price of uncovering the truth.

Welcome

Every town has stories beneath its streets.

Some are buried beneath abandoned mines.

Others beneath baseball fields, family tables, and memories that refuse to disappear.

Bespoke is where I share those stories.

Seven Hills book cover

Featured Book

Seven Hills

A novel by Brent Taylor

Seven towering hills of chat ring the town—waste rock from the mines, pale and glassy in the sun. In 1954, twelve-year-old Grace Ryan arrives and quickly learns that Jasper is not a quiet place, and that danger lingers just beneath its surface.

Drawn by an old survey map, a brass tag marked B6, and questions the adults refuse to answer, Grace, Percy, and Clay uncover hidden tunnels, poisoned water, buried records, and a silence that has protected powerful men for years.

Seven Hills will be Available to purchase October 2026


Stories

  • A Gatorade cooler dumped on my head moment of clarity regarding my diminishing skills as a shortstop happened one summer evening in the hole between short and third as I reached down across my body for a grounder and caught a bit of dirt and air turning a routine out into a single. I turned and…

    Read more →

  • I listened to Rory Sutherland expound on London cabbies this morning and how they are like guys on Valentine’s Day. The London taxicab driver is required to be able to decide routes immediately in response to a passenger’s request or traffic conditions, rather than stopping to look at a map, relying on satellite navigation or…

    Read more →

  • Part of my Saturday mornings are intentionally aimless…and saturated with too much coffee. I become so driven by task during the week that I need to unhitch my mind and let it drift away with Noah’s last dove carrying a to-do list and an olive branch. This post is for my son Brandon, who’s doing…

    Read more →

  • One of my best friends has a son who works at J.Crew. My son has a summer job driving the trash truck to the dump and he shops at Goodwill. But I think I’ve figured it out. It’s genetic. The why I mean. The why of why I dressed like an idiot until buying a…

    Read more →

  • I’ve never wanted to wear my Father’s clothes. Which makes this scene surreal; college kids diving after my clothes like starving refugees collecting Cinnabons. I purged my closet over the holidays grabbing great clutches of cotton hoodies, denim jeans, flannel shirts, tossing them to the hardwood floor of our recreation room as my children along…

    Read more →

  • Did Richard Sherman of the Seattle Seahawks offer a sincere handshake to Michael Crabtree in the heat of the moment and was his comment, “Hell of a game, hell of a game!”, real? Only Richard Sherman can answer that. He seems like a nice guy, postgame rant notwithstanding. It did make me think that youngsters…

    Read more →

  • My maternal grandmother died three years ago, January 20, 2011, at the age of ninety-nine. She would have celebrated her 100th birthday May 1st, 2011 so I’m rounding to 100. I miss her…miss seeing her, hearing her laugh, gathering counsel from her like a bee gathering pollen, sometimes even unaware that I was growing wiser…

    Read more →

  • Merry Christmas 2013!

    The advent of Facebook has relegated Christmas letters to the category of sleigh rides and blinding silver tinsel, not that I don’t enjoy those, but it’s just easier to push a button. So here goes, a Christmas letter selfie opening our front door to you for a view of our lives ad nauseum, as if…

    Read more →

  • At the age of four, I doubted Santa for the first time. Not his girth or beard or constant jolliness, but rather my own worthiness to receive his gifts, and the weight of guilt rang in my ears with every chorus of, “He knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness…

    Read more →

  • Table in the Son

    When you are young and the world is your oyster, older folks are wont to lend much wisdom thus rendering the use of knives to open the sublime stubborn shell, rather useless. As if allowing youngsters to pry open oysters in search of a beautiful pearl is beyond their ability and to wield sharp objects…

    Read more →