Updated April 2026

The Havok Journal

1) HOW DID YOU AND THE STATE OF VIRGINIA MEET?

Well, I’ve been enamored of the place for most of my life. As a history nut, it’s kind of the epicenter when it comes to the founding of our country and the incredibly complicated people who did that. For years, I used to commute between Princeton, New Jersey, where I raised my kids, and Los Angeles, where I toiled. I usually drove, and obviously Virginia is on that path.

I must’ve covered a hundred thousand miles in those twenty plus years, but Virginia always beckoned, and in the last few years, I’ve been able to finally settle here. COVID kind of helped with that in a weird way. I had a lot of meaningful and necessary life changes in the last five years, and Virginia has been a real tonic for me. It taught me to slow down, be still, and take a breath. I love the people of this state, the language, and the way you can drive thirty minutes and hear folks speak in an entirely different dialect. For a writer, that’s kind of gold.

2) WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE AREAS?

I first landed in Williamsburg, which of course is a history nerd’s dream and a gorgeous town. Then I found myself in a farmhouse in Mathews for a couple years, which I loved—until I lost my best buddy Wyatt, my trusted dog of fourteen years. Maybe it sounds silly, but the loss of my canine buddy really enveloped me in a kind of whirlwind of grief. It really devastated me on a level I could never have imagined. It’s as though all the personal losses I had experienced up to his death came to a head after he passed away. His dying opened a kind of portal to me finally allowing myself to feel and grieve other things, like the death of relationships and the death of so many friends and family members. I had pressed a lot of things deep down in myself, and it all kind of came out in a torrent.

3) DID YOU USE IT IN YOUR WORK?

I’m sure I did, but if asked for details, I’ll deny it.

4) HOW DID YOU MOVE ON FROM ALL THAT?

I have my daughter Margaret to thank for a lot of that. She had been living with me for two years in the farmhouse and wisely decided she wanted her own life. Strangely, she didn’t want to sit in a big old house with a morose, grieving, and depressed father anymore, so she got herself to Richmond and commenced a healthy separation from me. Can you imagine? The temerity! She found herself a cool place in the city, and the truth is, I was happy for her.

Another way I dealt with things was to just shake things up. I started traveling more, seeing parts of the world I had always wanted to. I met hundreds of brilliant and fascinating people and I journeyed hard: England, Ireland, Scotland, Spain, Portugal, France, Atlantic Canada, where I finally met my amazing family in Newfoundland, Alaska, the Caribbean, Mexico, every state in New England, and anywhere but being in a room alone. Then when I got back, my daughter encouraged me to find a place where I might bump into another human being every few days.

5) YOU FOUND A CABIN IN SHENANDOAH— HOW DID THAT COME ABOUT?

Well, that was from me just surfing Zillow, where I found a decrepit, old, and broken down hunting cabin from the 1960s, which reminded me of myself in a lot of ways. I too was decrepit, old, and created in the 1960s. And like the cabin, I was in need of serious renovation. I’ve been doing a lot of work on it. I love it. It’s good exercise, and nearby Shenandoah National Park is breathtaking.

6) HOW DID YOU GET INVOLVED WITH WRITING ABOUT GEORGE WASHINGTON AND WITH SUCH PRESTIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS?

(Evered was named Artist in Residence at the George Washington Birthplace National Monument in the summer of 2024 and was chosen as a Research Fellow at The American Revolution Institute at the Society of the Cincinnati in 2025.)

Well, those gigs are offshoots of my interest in the birth of our country. And the 250th anniversary of our founding seemed a good window to carve some time out for exploring that. I had always taken my kids to where Washington traveled, and I brought them up between Lexington, Massachusetts, and Princeton and Madison, New Jersey, all these little hotbeds of the Revolution, and I dragged them along to battlefields and the like. After COVID, I started to look at other venues and other kinds of people to work around, and I got the opportunity to put my interest on paper. Most importantly, it made me dive into the dramatic potential of Washington and gave me an opportunity to explore his fascinating character. He’s been so ridiculously maligned for so long and so simplistically caricatured. I felt there had to be other aspects to him and that perhaps I could express them theatrically. So I’m working on a couple short plays that I’ll show the world when the time is right. It’s been a great diversion and a great exercise, and I’ve met some cool historians along the way.

7) WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR NEXT PROJECTS COMING UP?

Well, I’m always working on a memoir I started years ago called Wild Air. And that’s coming along, somewhat. I also plan on directing a short film called Kinda Like Math next fall. It’s based on a play I wrote at Yale years and years ago, and it’s kind of haunted me for decades. It’s the story of a guy who’s had a nervous breakdown and ends up in the hospital. He’s visited by a good friend who comes to remind him he’s not really crazy, even though he sees angels. It’s an odd, hopefully resonant little piece. It’s just two humans—and maybe an angel—in a room. Lots of silences, lots of stillness. I can’t wait to get into it.

8) YOU’VE WRITTEN FEATURE FILMS, PLAYS, OF COURSE, FOR THE HIT SERIES MONK, AND SOME TV PILOTS THAT DIDN’T GET MADE. DO YOU EVER WANT TO WORK IN TELEVISION AGAIN?

I would love to. I love how varied the shows are now. I love the dark and light of it. If I come up with a great idea, you’ll be the first to know.

9) YOU’VE JUST FINISHED WRITING A FEATURE SCRIPT CALLED LONE PINE. WHAT’S THAT ABOUT?

It’s a sweet story about a movie star and the sick kid he ends up with on the road and how they manage to transform each other’s lives. I first started working on the script for Willie Garson (Sex and the City) to direct, but then he had the bad taste to die on us. His passing away sucked not just for our project but for the many people all over the world that loved him. Willie was a class act and would have slayed Lone Pine as a director. It would be great to get the film moving forward again, if only as a kind of tribute to Willie.

10) WHAT ARE THE QUESTIONS YOUNG WRITERS ALWAYS ASK YOU?

“How do I get an agent?” and “How much money do you make?” As for the agent question, it’s the wrong question to ask. I try to remind them not to worry about getting an agent; the work you produce is your agent. Just do good work and if you do, someone will notice. As for how much money I make, I tell them I’ve been rich, and I’ve been poor, and rich is better, for sure, but having more money never made me happier. The only thing money is good for is freedom. And time. But sometimes, not having money can be freeing as well. It’s something you have to learn to calibrate. Really, all “rich” is—is freedom. The only meaningful commodity is time. The cliches are there because they’re true: it’s the work that sustains you; it’s the work that makes you happy.

11) YOU’VE WORKED WITH A LOT OF FAMOUS PEOPLE IN THE WORLD OF PLAYS AND MOVIES. WHO WAS THE COOLEST PERSON YOU EVER MET IN HOLLYWOOD?

It would have to be Spielberg. Dreamworks bought my first script and that brought me to the attention of a lot of people out there. He was also among the most modest people I’ve met. I met so many other directors who couldn’t hold a candle to him, and they were such jerks. There’s a lesson in there somewhere.

12) AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST—WHAT MATTERS MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE?

Oh, ending with an easy one, are you? I always think that if I knew I were going to die in three minutes, what would I think about? I would think about the people I love or loved, about how I might communicate with them one more time. Or having a chance to tell them how sorry I am if I hurt or disappointed them in some way. I would think about the first time I saw my daughter Margaret and my son John smile. I remember the exact moments. I would think about what a blessing it’s been to even be alive. I’m one of those people that learns everything too late, which sucks, but I guess I should be thankful I learn anything at all. And of course dogs: dogs matter more than anything else.