The first book in our Sam Travis Adventure Series is now available, and we’ve already begun the second!
Early readers are buzzing:
“This is a fun, entertaining, shocking and thought-provoking read.”
As Lethal Game appears in all online retail outlets and library ordering services over the coming week or so, you’ll find this fun new book on Amazon NOW.
Some people are dumb, okay? And Sam Travis knows this better than most. In his neck of the woods in the gorgeous Western Massachusetts mountains called the Berkshires, he might see headlines like, “Hunters should take care to target only legal game, not bald eagles or German shepherds.”
Really, people?
In this new book, this guy Sam tends to tangle with unscrupulous characters as well as civilians who just make dumb mistakes. Some are downright stupid-funny.
But when somebody kills Sam’s long-time partner, an older game warden who was Sam’s mentor and partner, the gloves come off. “There’ll be hell to pay!” he says, and he means it.
Let there be no doubt: through the course of this book, the feces do strike the reciprocal mass… at velocity!
2. The New Relevant Fiction Podcast – Episode 1
You’ll also want to catch the debut episode of my new podcast, “Relevant Fiction: Stories with a Conscience,” to meet the real-life incarnation of Sam Travis, my partner in this outdoor adventure series, Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired).
You’ll learn what being an undercover operative is truly like in this episode, and why illegal harvesting of wildlife is a global enterprise involving some of the most unscrupulous characters on the planet.You’ll also better understand why such a criminal enterprise is not only dangerous, but an unconscionable crime against nature.
In this first episode, I’m excited to interview Tom Kasprzak, a.k.a. LT, retired from the Massachusetts Environmental Police Force. His stories will curl your toes until they cramp. And then some. Lethal Game is a novel, but it’s based on a few of Tom’s more cringeworthy true-life experiences. And he made damn sure I portrayed them in authentic clarity. He provides the stories, I provide the storytelling. You won’t want to miss this first episode of the Relevant Fiction podcast.
You will receive a link to the first episode of this new podcast by subscribing (it’s free) at GKJurrens.com, if you haven’t already done so, and you’ll be the very first to grab your free episode!
Coming soon to wherever you get your podcasts (as soon as I recover my voice to finish recording and producing)!
In future episodes, I’ll explore socially relevant issues in some of my other books, as well as those of other authors. The common theme: social relevancy.
Check out the new group HERE. Its genesis sprung from the new podcast above. My intent? This would be a fun forum to engage in further discussion after each podcast, which I hope will be thought-provoking. But it’s already becoming a nice safe place to express any opinion relative to fiction, except for hard-core politics. Serenity is fragile, is it not?
We’d love to see you contribute your own wits to this community, intended for anyone who’s interested in fiction that not only entertains, but presents itself as relevant to our lives outside of fiction. Maybe. You determine that. Fun to discuss.
And, oh, I can’t do this alone, my friends.
That’s it! So, until next time, and wherever…
Let’s roll!
Gene
And below… I only snap pictures of bumper stickers I like. So, here ya go:
You’ll think I’m crazy! Maybe I am. But don’t tell my blushing bride!
ALL of my books are FREE the entire month of July on Smashwords
(eBook editions)!
Keep reading, and I’ll show you how to score your own copies of all eleven books….
In this issue:
New Novel News (of course)
Reminder: Hot New Adventure Coming in Four Weeks
Time for a Memoir?
Travel & New State of Residence?
Audiobooks Next?
Crazy Book Sale (is it a sale when they’re FREE?)
Whenever we visit the home of the world-famous Mayo Clinic, also our home town, we take care of as much of our medical business as possible. At our age, that takes some time and attention.
We’ve been enjoying family and friends while here in Rochester, Minnesota, as we are blessed to do so for a while almost every summer. We do love this part of the country… in the summer!
1. New Novel Progress
Well, what do you expect? I’m an author. I write books. If I’m not producing new books, I’m not bringing home the bacon. Interesting turn of phrase for a vegan, right?
In my last newsletter, I mentioned the second book in my Literati Mystery series, “Secret Swords,” and that I was toying with a different title: “Dancing With Death.” I asked for feedback. Some said, “The new title is much better, but not the series name. The word, ‘Literati’ doesn’t sing to me.”
Hey, you speak, I listen. This series is now “Aubrey Greigh Mysteries.” Unless I receive more feedback to the contrary, here’s what I envision for this new book (coming Fall 2023). Let me know any further thoughts, please. I even re-issued a new edition of Voodoo Vendettawith an updated cover for consistency.
2. Reminder: A Hot New Outdoor Adventure Coming In Four Weeks….
This first Sam Travis Adventure is available for PREORDER NOW!
That means that you can buy it today at a reduced pre-publication price of $3.99 (USD) and Amazon will deliver its Kindle edition to any or all of your smart devices automatically on August 1st.
I am thrilled at the reaction from early readers/critics of this engaging and sometimes humorous adventure tale based on the real-life law enforcement experiences of my new friend, Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired) from the Massachusetts Environmental Police. Has he got stories!
New news: LT and I are already working on the second Sam Travis Adventure. We envision the title to be Lethal Trail. I have no draft artwork of the cover to share with you yet, but we’re excited about the book’s premise (look for it before Christmas, with a little luck):
Something is happening in Sam Travis’s backyard, but with no clue as to what that might be. Yet.
Since 1974, thirteen people have disappeared while hiking or camping on the Appalachian National Scenic Trail—called the AT by locals and hikers. Some of these fell prey to foul play. Several hikers have disappeared within the previous year alone, and three of those were last heard from on the ninety miles of the trail that passes through the Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts.
Then, a fourteen-year-old girl is kidnapped, beaten and abused. She turns up on her own, bruised and bloody, after hiking down one of Sam’s mountains to a parking lot near the Massachusetts stretch of the AT.
Sam has a reputation for finding people—alive or dead—and for wilderness tracking. In other words, a recovery expert. He’s called in to consult with the Massachusetts State Police and the FBI. It is critical they find where the girl was held. Amnesia is blocking her memory.
Similar cases in four other states on or near the AT lead authorities to suspect some or all might be connected. But the kidnapped girl who was left for dead is the only victim found alive. She is the key to tracking and apprehending one or more serial rapists, or more likely serial killers who seem to be on a multi-state spree. And they are escalating.
Sam and his team are called in to work with the girl, and to participate in three searches spanning a period of two months and three states. The trick is to distinguish those hikers who disappeared because they succumbed to weather, disorientation, malnutrition, exposure, dehydration, wildlife attacks, OR from victims of foul play. That is challenging if no body is found after someone is reported missing, often weeks or months later.
But then a hiker is discovered in a shallow grave. His belongings are missing, and there is evidence of sharp force trauma—he was stabbed. A homicide is declared. These investigations now take a different turn with a sense of urgency. Travis and his unusual team are called in once more.
End-to-end, the AT reaches 2,193 miles. It takes at least three months to “through hike” from northern Georgia to Maine, though most folks take longer than that. More than three million people hike a portion of the trail each year. Almost a thousand through-hikers walk its entire wilderness length annually.
Changes in elevation are equivalent to Mt. Everest’s sixteen times over. It’s been called the most dangerous and longest hiking trail in the world.
Injuries and fatalities occur, but the intentional human-on-human disappearances? That’s where Sam, his quirky team of trackers, informants, and investigators help solve those crimes and catch the criminals—a juicy, and sometimes comedic recipe for adventure and intrigue.
3. Time for a Memoir?
A friend who is a New York Times best-selling author once told me, “Geno, you’re never gonna make any of the best-seller lists if you keep hopping genres. You write historical crime fiction, fictional autobiographies (fictional memoirs?), murder mysteries, now outdoor adventures, and you dabble in futuristic paranormal romantic mysteries. Plus, some non-fiction…. What the hell?”
I told him, “I don’t care. I write what’s in my heart.” He didn’t say it, but I could feel his thoughts bludgeoning me: “Oh, you’re one of those!” He strictly writes for commercial success, and I’m very happy for him.
So, he tossed me a challenge: “Okay, smart guy, I challenge you to write a really solid book that nobody will buy!” Game on. I wrote a book of poetry for people who hate poetry (The Poetic Detective). And it’s selling! Not a lot. But that’s okay.
Now, why not write a (non-fiction) memoir targeting readers who hate memoirs? “They” can’t stop me! In truth, who cares? Well, I’m hoping you will. How’s this for a working title: “Confessions of a Pathological Believer –In Science, Superstition, and Emotional Addiction.”
Am I crazy? I hope so! Most good authors are. Confessionsshould be an interesting read when I get around to finishing the damn thing. I’m hoping it will be available by mid-2024.
4. Travel & New State of Residence?
We’re hanging out here in Southeast Minnesota for another six weeks or so. Then, we’re off to the Black Hills of South Dakota (we love that area). But this time, we also plan to establish South Dakota as our state of domicile.
Now that we don’t plan to spend much time in Florida anymore (we’ll miss our friends, but not hurricanes!), we need a new official state of residence. What to do?
This means we’ll officially become SD residents from a legal perspective. Why? Like Florida, no state income tax. Unlike Florida, however, where we’d have to physically reside for six months of every year (no longer our plan), we only have to be in-state once every five years (to renew our drivers’ license)!
We’ll register our RV and cars there (then, we can get new plates by mail each year), and register to vote (they honor absentee ballots, and the mail forwarding service we’ll use (Dakota Post) forwards absentee ballots, unlike our other service in Florida.
Yup, SD is by far THE friendliest state in the union for full-time RVers like us. Gotta think differently lacking a real estate address nowadays.
5. Audiobook Editions?
I’m finally returning to creating audiobook editions of my manuscripts. As a DIY project, this is an aggressive undertaking. So much to learn. But I enjoy that.
Why create audiobook editions? I’ve asked so many folks, “Do you read books?” only to hear “Only ‘Books on Tape'” from some. Of course, they mean audiobooks. That means I’m missing a market. Like the old lottery player’s motto, “You can’t win if you don’t play.”
Being a control freak, and a cheap one at that, I can’t justify paying a professional voice artist four figures to narrate each of my books. Plus, many of the folks who enjoy audiobooks have said they prefer listening to an author narrating their own work.
I promise that producing and performing one’s own audiobooks is not for the faint of heart. At least three reasons:
A good deal of technology (hardware) and technical (software/audio) knowledge must be mastered to avoid rejection by audiobook distribution channels,
Requires an investment in hardware (an ultra-quiet “recording booth,” a quality microphone, an interface between the mike and my computer) and software (a digital audio workstation, a.k.a. DAW),
New skills must be mastered that most might take for granted – that of a voice-over artist.
To the first point, audio computer file requirements and what each contains are exacting. I won’t bore you with the details.
Second, eliminating echoes, outside and ambient room noises require soundproofing a space within which to record (a “booth”). My Behringer phantom-powered pro microphone is crazy sensitive. I need that to record quality sound.
Plus, the DAW I use (recording studio software) must be able to record precise acoustical results and analyze them to ensure I don’t flunk #1 above without spending hundreds of dollars per hour renting studio time. Plus, did I mention I live in a bus?
And third, I am humbled by what it takes to effectively narrate a quality audiobook. I had no idea! Narrators don’t just “read the book aloud” as someone records their voice. They perform the book! Huge difference!
Soooo, if you’re interested, I thought I’d share with you an audio draft of one chapter fromVoodoo Vendetta(chapter 8). I have yet to scrub it for technical requirements, and while I never like the recorded sound of my own voice, I’m told that listeners just have to “not hate it.” We’ll see, right? If you have an opinion after listening to this 5-minute clip, shoot me an email at gjurrens@yahoo.com. Thanks in advance:
Listen to Chapter 8 of Voodoo Vendetta (not in context – sample of sound quality & performance):
6. Crazy Book Sale – They’re ALL FREE IN JULY!
Yup, that ain’t just hype. My entire set of eleven published works (so far) are free the entire month of July–all eBook editions on Smashwords, that is (an Amazon alternative).
Here’s how to score my entire collection at no cost:
Sign into smashwords.com or sign up for a new account (it’s free)
Search for “jurrens” at the top of the window
Click on “buy” for any or all of my books.
Don’t forget to scroll down to see all eleven books
Checkout
Choose payment method
Optional: Subscribe to receive notifications of my new releases.
Proceed to checkout
Easy. All I ask in return is a paragraph or three in reaction to each book you read (even if you don't finish it). Send your thoughts to gjurrens@yahoo.com. Tell me what you enjoyed or hated. Either way, I'll be grateful.
Remember, “the difference between ordeal and adventure is attitude!”
In this issue – with attitude:
The Big Show
Cold Wrinkles
Hot New Adventure Book This Summer
Cool New Mystery This Fall
Take what you like… leave the rest. Thanks for being here!
After a crazy winter, March came thundering at us like a ravenous lion. We asked for a lot of it. Much we did not. But we now hurtle toward our fate with our eyes wide open, eagerly anticipating the next twist. We’re putting ourselves out there.
It’s our time to suck the juice from fickle fruit—bitter or sweet, and that damn lion is still thundering toward us.
Bring it on, you mangy cat!
1. The Big Show
After packing our most treasured relics from lives already well-lived, and after selling our last remaining piece of real estate, we aimed our forty-three-foot eight-wheel home northward. We left SW Florida in our rearview mirror and headed for central Georgia with adrenaline-fueled excitement coursing through our veins.
What happens when you cluster a mob of RVs in one place where lots of people with similar interests hunker down together? For most, that means fun and excitement.
During the week of March 15th, we set up our rolling home on the Georgia State Fairgrounds along with some two-thousand-one-hundred other RVs. That’s probably over four thousand folks who lust for life on the road, as do Kay and I.
Enter the 106th Family Motor Coach Association (FMCA) International Convention, and Perry, Georgia was hopping.
Seventy-seven folks attended my seminars on Inspired Creative Writing & Publishing. They received what I had to say very favorably.
In fact, FMCA has already asked me to present again next March at their Tucson convention. Let’s go!
I also spent ten hours over four days selling my books—I sold seventy-five. What that means to my lovely bride of fifty-four years—this month—is that we now haul just two cartons of inventory around North America instead of six, at least until I receive another print run for my next round of seminars and book sales in Minnesota this summer.
So to all of you who attended my seminars and/or bought my books in Perry, Miss Kay and I thank you.
2. Cold Wrinkles
No, y’all, I’m not now whining about early spring temperatures, which were frigid, at least to us—we’ve long-since been “Floridated.” Rather, the freezer in our big old French-door residential fridge in the bus kicked the proverbial bucket.
They figure it was a compressor gone bad. But because this was a twin compressor unit—deluxe at its birth, circa 2010—the fridge continued to work fine. Just no freezer.
Built like a brick, the venerable old Samsung was a teenager—thirteen years old. What’s that in dog years? High time for an upgrade to something that works, top to bottom, even under the frequent earthquake conditions (a.k.a. crappy roads that shake our guts and our equipment).
Now, this might amuse you. We spent several days at the Newmar factory service center in northern Indiana (where this bus was built seventeen years ago), so they know what they’re doing. Quite the amazing facility.
Said they needed to take out a ten-foot row of cabinets over the driver’s side living room windows and remove a picture window, so four strong men outside could hoist the new twenty-cubic-foot three-door Whirlpool fridge/freezer up and in to two strong men inside! After they disassembled and hauled out “old busted” and hoisted in “new hotness,” that is. No big deal. For them. Just a SMOM (Small Matter Of Money)!
Yeah, it was time. And it happened, with less than a 1/32″ clearance!
The plan worked—the first time. Almost like they knew exactly what they were doing.
Now, since this was an unplanned remove/replace, the team ran out of time.
So we planned to return to Newmar after Spartan Motors serviced our chassis (everything below “the house” like the engine, drive train, suspension, air brakes, etc.).
We then drove to Ontario to visit some friends, then down to Cleveland to visit my dear sister, Yvonne. And back to Spartan in southern Michigan to pick up the coach.
Then we returned to Newmar in Nappanee to allow the boys to finish trimming out the fridge and install our new slide toppers. Those are heavy fabric awnings that cover our slide-out rooms when extended.
Piece a cake!
Now, let’s talk about slides—you know, mechanical room expanders. Also called slide-outs or slide-out rooms. We have four. Without four slide-outs the bus is very cramped and not as livable.
Two opposing slides in the bedroom make that a cozy space with plenty of room to walk around the king bed. Likewise, two opposing slides in the living room really open that space up. Very comfy.
On the other hand, when any of those four motorized slides don’t behave, well, think of losing about twenty percent of the dimensions of the room where you spend the most time.
Yup, our passenger’s side living room slide decided to grow temperamental on us in recent months. Well, we were in the right place.
They replaced the brake on that slide’s motor (which wanted to stay locked and not allow the motor to move the slide), and… mischief managed. We’re back in business! SMOM.
One more wrinkle that surprised us.
We’re vegetarians with a bad freezer whose fridge could have failed at any moment. That meant we resorted to provisioning with canned beans of all types as a major source of our protein.
Canned goods are heavy. We challenged the strength of every full extension drawer in our “pantry.”
Within the first two weeks of our new full-time RV lifestyle, three of four drawers in our pantry collapsed.
Remember, when we roll the house down the road at 65 or 75 MPH, we’re seriously wiggling the needle on the ole Richter scale.
Fortunately, it was a small matter for the Newmar techs to fortify our drawers so they wouldn’t drop our heavy larder all over the floor! Thank you, Newmar techs! (SMOM redux).
We took a road trip in the Jeep to Niagara Falls, Ontario. Illuminating.
While the bus was getting her yearly physical at Spartan Motors in Southern Michigan, we took a road trip in the Jeep to Niagara Falls, Ontario. Illuminating. More casinos and wineries in one place than we’ve ever seen (no wineries in Vegas).
Oh, and our first view of the falls from 733 feet above ground level (the observation deck of the Skylon Tower) took our breath away.
We then said goodbye to our Canadian friends and headed to Cleveland to spend a wonderful weekend with family there. Delightful. Got word our bus was done at the Spartan chassis service center (annual maintenance), and returned to Newmar in northern Indiana to finish up there installing parts that had to be re-ordered.
And here we sit. Again. Comfortably.
3. Hot New Adventure Book Coming This Summer….
A reminder….
This next book will be available August 1st. A skilled team of pre-publication readers have been buzzing with enthusiasm about this first book of this new series.
I am thrilled at the reaction from these early readers/critics to the first book of an engaging and sometimes humorous adventure series based on the real-life law enforcement experiences of my new friend, Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired) from the Massachusetts Environmental Police. Has he got stories!
The good news? LETHAL GAME CAN BE PRE-ORDERED IF YOU CLICK RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW!That means that you can buy it today at a reduced pre-publication price of $3.99 (USD) and Amazon will deliver the Kindle edition to any or all of your smart devices automatically the moment it becomes available.
If you don’t own a Kindle device, no problem. Follow the link above to the book’s Amazon page. Directly under the price of the book, click on “Read with Our FREE App.”Download that app and you’ll be able to read any Kindle book on all of your smart devices (phone, tablet, computer….).
I offer you an excerpt of this new book here:
Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege
A Sam Travis Adventure
Saturday Morning,
October 1st
Glenville, Massachusetts
* * *
These woods always reminded Frank Murdock of Christmas. The pine and hemlock trees that loomed over the log cabin stained its brownish exterior to somewhere between a weathered gray and the black of neglect. But it always smelled like Christmas.
Out front, a sign nailed to a post announced,
Frank swung open the cabin’s screen door. It banged against its stops as he stepped out onto the porch and filled his lungs. Sometimes he felt stronger than he himself expected. The truth? He had grown too darn old and tired for the job. But he’d admit that to no one out loud, not even to himself.
He slapped away the cobwebs from the top corner of the screen door. They weren’t there last night. A few clung to the sergeant’s stripes on his right shoulder. Those stripes were less faded than the rest of his forest-green uniform. He scratched at the third-day stubble on his jowled neck.
The grizzled game service veteran hobbled side-to-side out to his Bronco, a clone of the one that his partner, the promising young Sam Travis drove, though rustier. But for the sweet fart of fate, he’d have lost one or more of that truck’s Swiss cheese fenders behind him in a ditch on a country road.
His left knee gave him trouble most of the time. Today was one of those days. Not the only thing that irritated him, though.
These dents and all this grime? Past adventures, eh? If we get some budget, maybe the boss springs for a new fleet of Broncs… yeah, sure thing—come a hell a Sundays!
Frank grabbed the handle, swung open the driver’s door with a screech from its pair of rust-dry hinges, and hoisted his creaky carcass up into the driver’s seat. His eyes had grown bloodshot from filling out forms for the last hour.
Blasted paperwork…two more years and I’m gone… gone… gone….
Twisted the ignition key.
Bam!
The Bronco sputtered and stalled. Murdock slammed his fist against the wheel. The muscles in his jaw rippled. Didn’t mean to grind every single natural tooth left in his mouth. Probably chipped at least one, or worse. He was sure to put the dentist’s youngest boy through his freshman year at Holyoke Community College.
Twisted the ignition key again. More sputtering.
Fire up, you son-of-a-bitch!
Finally, the engine took pity on the old woods cop. After a quick J-turn, Murdock drove past the cabin in a cloud of dust with sparks shooting from the exhaust pipe—actually, from the hole in the pipe in front of the rusted muffler. One more backfire, and the Bronco disappeared, leaving a pall of blue smoke in its trail.
Murdock bumped along a remote dirt road that was more of a game trail than an actual thoroughfare. His chunky trail tires kicked out gravel. Clotted chunks of mud had caked inside all four wheel wells before the first freeze. Stayed all dried up in there, now, like gray concrete.
Intermittent static issued from his dash radio. Then, the sultry tones of their female dispatcher offered a welcome respite from the noise that the radio’s antiquated squelch could not defeat. Murdock had been warned about his playful flirting. Like he had a shot!
“Unit twenty-one… unit twenty-one… please respond to a shooting complaint near the abandoned hotel at Wolf Hollow.”
Shit. Means another hike to the top of that wretched ridge.
He tried not to sound pissed at that silky voice washing over him from his radio’s speaker. Or too sarcastic. What was her name, again? “Unit twenty-one received. Thanks a lot!”
“Sorry, Frank. You’re the only officer in that district. Complainant states she’s heard shots fired there for over a week now.”
“Received and en route.”
A week-old complaint. Typical.
Murdock pointed his Bronc up into the hills on the winding road toward Wolf Hollow. Clouds of dust swirled behind, but a fair amount of it filled his Bronc, too. Swiss cheese wheel wells’ll encourage that.
Coming around a curve too fast, he slammed on his brakes. Dust engulfed him and the Bronc. Almost got jammed up on a fallen tree and half a dozen boulders.
Great. A landslide. Just what I need.
Murdock snatched the microphone from its hook on the dash. “Unit twenty-one on portable at Wolf Hollow.”
“Received, twenty-one.”
This trail’s a cuss-ed mess!
Still muttering to himself, he climbed out of the cruiser, surveying the steep incline. Spotted the head of a foot trail he knew led to the abandoned hotel up top.
Murdock chose his steps with care. Didn’t need a twisted ankle. Small rocks tumbled around his feet as he walked, rolling down the steep trail behind him, clattering in complaint.
Frank stopped for a moment on the incline to do a quick three-sixty. A panoramic view of the countryside from the ridge reminded him why he chose this line of work. Breathtaking. He loved his Western Massachusetts mountains.
The wind had picked up. Or more likely, it hadn’t, but felt like it up on the ridge. Leaves rustled as they took to the air, skittering across his path.
And there it was—the abandoned hotel. Not much left other than its foundation, a concrete slab, and two camouflaged tents pitched there, all organized like it was a professional operation of some sort. He could guess.
He approached the campsite, now on full alert, and still managed to step right into a still-steaming pile of dog crap.
Shit!
He dragged his soiled boot over a pile of dead leaves that had accumulated up against a rotten log. Still shaking his boot every other step, Frank continued on into the campsite.
Off to his right hung camo pants drying on a clothesline. There was a wire run for dogs, and the remains of a fire. Just a bed of ashes within an impromptu rock circle.
Murdock soft-stepped up to a tent that was zippered shut like the other one. He unzipped it, bottom up, for a peek inside. Halfway up, he stooped, pushed aside the flaps, and faced a barking, snarling whirlwind of teeth, fur and blazing eyes, inches away.
He flew butt behind heels onto his ass, stunned by the attack.
Gee-ZEUS!
The dog choked against his now ribbon-tight chain to get at him from inside that tent.
The hound relented, but continued to snarl in frustration as Murdock got to his feet. Then he noticed drops of blood glistening on dried leaves near where he had stumbled back. He stooped to run a finger over it.
Still stooping, he sniffed—the drop smelled coppery. Eyeballed it up close. Rubbed it in a circular motion between his right thumb and forefinger. Yup. Blood.
After his third three-sixty scan since entering the camp, he followed the intermittent blood trail. He often bragged he could track anything, anywhere, anytime. And he had.
The trail led him to a clearing surrounded by… camouflaged netting? And a game pole constructed of two straight hardwood tree limbs driven into the ground ten feet apart. Someone had strung a rope between the poles eight feet off the ground. Guy ropes outboard of the poles ensured they would support tremendous weight.
He saw four dead bears hanging by their necks. They’d cut off their paws at the wrists and stripped their hides down from their necks to reveal incisions deep into abdominal flesh. Still raw and bloody. And steaming.
What the fuck? A crew of pro poachers!
* * *
The end of a rifle barrel poked out of the bushes just twenty yards away, brushing a limb and its dried leaves. The crosshairs of a scope centered on Murdock’s back. A finger tightened, and….
* * *
Murdock spun around, reacting to a sound any normal sixty-two-year-old pair of ears would have missed. At that moment, a bullet struck Frank three inches above and four inches to the left of his chest’s center. He sprawled backwards.
* * *
The poacher walked toward the fallen game warden. Leaves crunched beneath his boots in the now deadly silent forest.
Murdock’s voice wheezed, “Help. Please.”
A raspy laugh echoed in the silence. The poacher’s response to Murdock’s plea with the rifle pointed at his forehead? A blast that shattered the forest’s silence.
The man with the mean eyes kicked the uniformed piece of meat at his feet as he drew in the sweet scent of cordite.
4. Cool New Mystery This Fall….
Also, look for the second book in my Literati Mystery series this Fall, Secret Swords (working title & draft cover art). I’m experimenting with an alternate title and cover: Dancing With Death.Which do you prefer? Let me know!
Synopsis (draft):
Someone is murdering Windy City movie stars a few summers from now. But a larger story launches from Denmark before carving its bloody path into the American Midwest.
Studio executives & politicians demand answers as the investigation flounders.
At first, Chicago Police Captain Lois Granger believes this is just another nasty serial homicide case complicated by the wild imagination of her pain-in-the-neck suspended Detective McQuillan, a.k.a. McQ, and celebrity Scottish author, a self-styled amateur sleuth, Sir Aubrey Greigh. But later, she’ll risk all herself to unmask a horrifying secret.
Greigh recruits Chance McQuillan, on compulsory leave, to covertly investigate a series of murders as a civilian. Later, they labor to thwart a plot to incite international mayhem & mass murder with an alphabet soup of agencies. The cost of failure? Unthinkable.
Then, tough-as-nails police commissioner, Jack Roberts gets a call from Interpol. From that moment, everything changes. But not for the better.
Yup, we’re definitely blitzin’ over here in the bus!
So, until next time… and wherever you and I are, my friend…
Let’s roll!
Gene
P.S. The gear to tow a car behind the bus and two bicycles above all the tow gear? Nothin’ to it, right?
Feelin’ shiny in the motorhome’s “spare room” (inside my noise-cancelling headphones)!
2023 is off and running…. So are we! So much has happened since late December. Allow me to share three exciting new ingredients we’ve added to our personal recipe!
In this issue:
A New Collaboration
A New Phase
A New Chapter
I can’t believe we’re leaving this gorgeous place along with our old and new friends. But we have horizons to cross, strangers to meet, new friends to embrace. And no parting is forever. Keep reading.
Life surprises us with its constantly evolving recipe with joy, intrigue, drama, tragedy and comedy. Events that blend together—some fiery and passionate, others that calm and sooth.
And sometimes, our lives are inundated with an avalanche of events—whether we choose them or they just happen. That can feel overwhelming.
Regardless, we each decide whether to savor or recoil from the taste. And whether we should use that recipe again, given the choice.
Most of us think we know the combination of ingredients that will cause smiles to appear or tears to flow.
Maybe we do.
With each new ingredient, we experiment to see how it will affect the recipe. Then, there are circumstances thrust upon us by fate, or kismet, or a universe with a cosmic sense of unfathomable humor.
So, let’s talk about our three new ingredients—Kay’s and mine! Exciting, chilling and spicy.
Besides, I’ve beaten this wretched recipe metaphor to death by now. Don’t you agree?
Moving on….
1. Feature: A New Collaboration
I am excited to announce that I have forged a new collaboration. No, Kay and I are still together. This is different. And a delightful surprise.
One of my readers offered me a screenplay to read that he wrote thirty+ years ago. I read it, and was impressed.
Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired) was an Environmental Police Officer in Massachusetts for thirty-two years.
I’m now embarking on a unique new adventure series based on Tom’s action-packed career. He is a tremendous resource of authentic story material, and we’ve hit it off.
I thought I’d share with you a synopsis of the first book in this new Sam Travis Adventure Series, “Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege“….
A Massachusetts state game warden’s body turns up under a pile of brush in the deep woods. They find a decapitated bear carcass on top of him. It’s paws are missing, too.
Captain Larry Jamison’s personal life is a mess. But he is compelled to investigate the murder of one of his own.
Officer Sam Travis, the victim’s longtime partner, wants vengeance. They both may just be in over their heads to find out what these poachers are after. And why.
These environmental police officers soon discover they have stumbled into something far more insidious than they could have imagined. But that doesn’t stop them from risking everything.
I hope to have this published by August.
I’m grateful for what early readers(pre-publication reviewers) are already saying about “Lethal Game:”
“Thanks for a great read! Your characters are painted vividly, and draw the reader in.“
“The pace is quick and smooth and makes it nearly impossible to stop reading.“
“Lethal Game is awesome! The baby bear scenes are heartrending!”
Allow me to introduce my featured guest for this post, the real-life version of Sam Travis, Environmental Police Officer (EPO)Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired). Tom is the real deal, folks. Here’s why:
My new friend, Tom (a.k.a. LT)
“LT” spent thirty-two years as an EPO for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
Before graduating in 1977 from the Massachusetts State Police academy, Tom earned the coveted “top gun” award for superior marksmanship.
He began his EPO career as a field officer in various assignments involving both inland and marine enforcement in places like Cape Cod, Boston Harbor and others.
After transferring to the Berkshire Mountains in Western Massachusetts with skills honed from 7+ years of varied case involvement and courtroom testimony, he forged close relationships with local and state police.
Upon being promoted to lieutenant, he led a region of officers in search and rescue operations involving plane crashes, boating fatalities, narcotics, and the investigation and apprehension of various firearm violators.
Beginning in 1986, LT engaged in undercover or supervised undercover operations focused on endangered wildlife.
During that time, he worked with other local, state, and federal agencies on issues ranging from the environment to anti-terrorism.
Tom was selected to train in no fewer than three extended tours at the prestigious Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC, pronounced “flet-SEE”) in Glynco, Georgia, where federal law enforcement agencies train.
Those intensive and immersive training tours honed his skills for inter-agency undercover operations, marine operations, and advanced operational readiness. He also trained for, and was an Incident Commander in several cases.
During his colorful career, Tom worked with the Massachusetts State Police air wing on helicopter operations, their dive team, apprehension team, marine law enforcement, and environmental police operations.
Tom spent his last seven years assigned to the State Police STOP (apprehension) team headquarters in Chicopee, Massachusetts, along with all the members of the region he supervised.
His undercover assignments brought dozens of individuals to justice who violated state and federal laws. He was also a Deputy National Marine Fisheries agent as well as a U.S Deputy Fish and Wildlife agent at the same time.
His largest case—Operation Berkshire—closed one of the country’s largest illegal commercial wildlife trafficking operations involving twenty-nine individuals, six states and two foreign countries.
The exploits of Tom and his fellow officers from his home state and others led to new exploits in crusading against illegal wildlife commercialization.
National Geographic produced a special called “Wildlife Wars: Bears Under Siege” that featured Tom and his fellow undercover operatives after they closed Operation Berkshire.
Tom taught new recruits at the State Police Academy courses in courtroom procedures, officer ethics and undercover operations.
He also delivered endangered species lectures to schools, colleges, municipal police departments, as well as to other state and federal agencies including US Coast Guard District One in Boston with whom he was specifically trained in LNG (Liquid Natural Gas) tanker escort anti-terrorism protocols in Boston Harbor.
He made a name for himself during dozens of successful missing persons, body recovery cases, undercover operations, anti-terrorism and crime scene investigations.
Tom and his life partner, Karen, now split their time between Western Massachusetts and Southwestern Florida.
I am excited and honored to tell just a few of Tom’s stories (maybe they’re “fictional biographies”?) in this fresh new series where adventure thrusts itself upon an officer of the law in the weirdest, sometimes comedic and often life-threatening ways imaginable.
Look for “Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege,” the first Sam Travis Adventure, late summer 2023. Learn first when it will be available righthere.
Exciting!
Note: This series will comprise medium-length novels based on the true adventures of LT, his fellow officers, and the criminals who were dumb enough to cross paths with these ambitious but light-hearted cops who often operated undercover. My objective: These will be fun reads that you will find unusual, hair-raising and often funny as hell.
2. A New Phase
On a very personal note…
Congratulate me!
I survived my first cardiac event just before Christmas, four days after my last newsletter published.
Huzzah! Part of the ol’ aging process. And an unexpected new ingredient in my own life’s recipe.
This experience also grew to be meaningful to me in an unexpected way.
So, here we go. My life is an open book. That’s why I write, I guess.
Pay attention if your ticker is as old as mine, or if you’re just morbidly curious!
On the afternoon of Thursday, December 22nd, I started to feel… “wonky” (light-headed, a pounding in my temples, and in my throat). No chest pains, though. Getting horizontal became my priority.
My Apple Watch said my heart rate rocketed from 50 BPM (beats per minute) to 165 an instant later. Then, back to 85, then to 140. And so it went for an hour or so.
My feeble brain just couldn’t process what was happening to the rest of my body. Unknown territory, y’all, at least to me and my old Series 2 Apple Watch. The newer (younger?) ones are smarter.
Yes, I thought I’d never get the chance to finish my next book(s), and I wondered how Kay, my family and friends could possibly go on without me (you DO know me, right?).
No, they didn’t shock me, but I did sell a few books to the ambulance crew en route to the Cape Coral Hospital.
But I’m now at the same age my father died from his third heart attack—I seem to remember he was smiling on the way out. But then, hey! I’m still here, Dad! God bless genetics.
Within minutes after Kay called 9-1-1, our bedroom here in our Florida home filled with EMTs from the Cape Coral Fire Department just down the road. The ambulance gang arrived minutes later to join the party.
Now, I won’t lie to you. This “event” scared the crap out of me. I laid on my bed with my pulse racing from wide open throttle—way past the red line—then, to dead slow.
Yup, it was my heart. I mentally recounted the hugging goodbyes I’d never deliver.
Chilling.
With an IV dripping into my left arm from a pole attached to the ambo’s gurney, I dropped back into what’s known as normal sinus rhythm (what it should be) before they even hoisted my strapped-in petard into the ambulance.
Shaved, hooked up, grateful….
At the ER, they slid me through every machine and ran every test known to modern medicine over the next several hours.
Guess what? Some of you know what “atrial fibrillation” is, right? It’s caused by a micro-voltage signal imbalance in the top of the heart, or some such sciency thingy.
My heart got confused and I slipped into “arrhythmia,” or an irregular heart rhythm. But it found its way home before long.
From all the lab work, a stress test and other tests like an EKG, echocardiogram (ultra-sound of the heart), and a nuclear something-or-other, two cardiologists agreed that I am in really good shape despite this “irregularity” (ok, I could stand to lose 6 or 9 pounds that snuck back inside my sweatshirt, somehow), and that being a physically active vegetarian was likely the most remarkable difference between my dad and me at 73.
Even though Dad and I both share the same genetics, our lifestyles could not have been more different. I am grateful for his example. He did what he had to do. I learned from that.
Honestly, the worst part of this little adventure? They kept shaving patches of hair off my chest at the hospital with the dullest blade in the western hemisphere so they could attach probes with adhesive patches held in place with crazy glue, or its facsimile. No, wait… the worst was ripping off those damn patches!
Now, I’ve learned, just about everybody my age I know is already a member of the a-fib club. No big deal, they all say.
I experienced only one additional a-fib episode on January 3rd, and none since. Happy New Year!
They tell me the biggest danger from a-fib is the risk of blood pooling in the heart and clotting. That could migrate and cause a stroke.
So, my blood needs to be just a little thinner—not much—than before, to reduce the risk of stroke if I should slip into a-fib again. I’m very low risk of falling prey to a villainous stroke.
But a-fibs will happen again, especially since it was someone’s bright idea that I continue to age. Seriously, folks? Now, I take a baby aspirin once a day.
That’s it.
I can do that.
But this is a new phase in my (our) life. I think of myself differently. How could I not? Every little “funny feeling” has me second-guessing whether my heart is acting up. Again. Whether it’s fiction or fact.
I am prone to high drama. My index finger shoots to my neck to check the beat. I think, Seems regular. Is this a minor chest pain, and is it significant—another early indicator of the second shoe dropping? Or is it just a sore muscle to consider as part of my pain management regimen?
Thank the gods for 8-Hour Tylenol Arthritis. And so far, the beat goes on.
It’s been said the heart is a rather important component of the human anatomy. But that’s just an Internet rumor, mind you.
A certain freedom then blanketed my worrying heart and mind. Everyone says a-fib ain’t a big deal. And even if my time now is short (now that I’ve achieved ‘middle age’ at 73 – yeah, right), let’s just get going! We’re doing the right stuff, so let’s just do more of it. Or… not!
Out of character (finally)!
I’ve already been blessed with a more interesting and fulfilling life than maybe 95% of the people on the planet. Screw it! This is already a high-scoring game, right? And I’m ahead! Thanks, Dad. He always said, “life is a whisper. Listen to it.”
I do acknowledge current events have temporarily delayed my audiobook endeavors. My microphone is calling my name. But so is the road. I shall heed the call, ladies and germs.
So, be forewarned. I’m taking my own advice. I wrote a verse a while ago and published it in one of my literary experiments last summer. The book is calledThe Poetic Detective. Here are the final six lines of a poem from that book I call, “Wide Open Throttle”
… Eat the fruit, ditch decorum, reach for glory, it’s okay.
We are here for a reason, as a beacon not to worry
about crap we can’t control, about fear that consumes
our best cherries, our great hearts. With others, commune.
As captains with courage we pilot our own ship.
Life is short, so go long, do what’s right, let her rip!
3. A New Chapter
Having uttered these words of full-throttle bravado (you decide whether they ring true for you), we’re just now starting a new chapter in our lives, Kay and me. And yes, “top speed” means something different than it once did. That’s so very okay.
My old friend, Sheriff Steve B, asked if we are, indeed, soon to be homeless. Talk about an exciting new ingredient in our recipe for life. Too spicy? Time will tell.
Our only home (<300 square feet) for the foreseeable future. We’ve spent more than half our time in this old bus over the last 7+ years, already.
Let me say this about that.
So, to what new chapter am I referring? We sold our condo. By Friday, March 10th,Kay and I will own no real estate anywhere in the known universe. Or anywhere else(wink).
Now, here’s the spice. After two months of planning, packing, working with our realtors, a reputable moving company and moving/storage insurance, our move plan fell apart one day prior to the move date.
Spicy, eh?
Remember the old saw about a battle plan is perfect—until the first shot is fired?
Yup. Reset. Plan A for selling the place continues smoothly on track. But Plan B is required for moving and storage of the goods we just couldn’t part with. No problem. We’re getting it done. But… really spicy. Yup, I’m regularly checking my pulse.
After twenty-one delightful years, we are indeed selling our wonderful home that is sorely under-utilized—our only remaining piece of real estate, our condo in Paradise on the gulf coast of Florida. If you’d find a 3D virtual tour amusing, click here. I did a screen grab from the realtor’s website before the listing disappears.
This is a new ingredient for Kay and me since we bought our first house over half a century ago—in 1973. We’ll once again hit the big slab (the Interstates) in our trusty old bus, but this time, with no sticks ‘n bricks (or steel-reinforced concrete) bunker to fall back on. Like the itinerant vagabonds our souls tell us we still can and should be, while we’re still able.
Now, when someone now asks for our home address, or even more ridiculously, our permanent address, after snickering with childish delight, we truly will respond, “wherever we decide to park the bus tonight. But mañana? All bets are off!”
This raises a few interesting questions of many yet to be asked:
What will be our state of residence for purposes of paying (or not paying) state income tax?
Will we be able to retain our Florida residency (no state income tax) if we no longer own a house here?
Where will we register to vote?
Where will we license our motorhome and our toad (that is, the Jeep we tow behind the bus)?
Blah de blah….
Looking forward. It’s not like we’ll be roughing it, other than no garage, of course.
Now, our friends who have been “full-timers” for years will coach us through this new chapter as we write it. But we’ve always had that safety net, “the house” with its very own address.
The only “permanent” address we’ll have now is that of our mail forwarding service. And it truly is amazing how many entities in our life expect us to have a “permanent address!”
Exciting, and different. A new chapter! A new ingredient in our recipe. And yes, I AM the master of the mixed metaphor!
Looking aft from the cockpit
The galley (a.k.a. the kitchen), at least the passenger side of it
Oh, hey!
If you happen to find yourself in Perry, Georgia mid March 2023, I’ll be presenting a couple of my creative writing seminars at the mammoth Family Motor Coach Association’s International Convention.
I’ll also be teaching this topic and others on writing, publishing, the anatomy of the murder mystery genre, etc, in Rochester, Minnesota this summer starting in early June.
That’s all for now.
Look for “Lethal Game” late this Summer in all online storefronts, library services and reader subscriber services worldwide.
So, until next time… and wherever you and I are, my friend…
Happy 2023 to you and yours!
Grateful for a few more trips around the sun,
Gene
Feelin’ shiny in the motorhome’s “spare room” (inside my noise-cancelling headphones)!
A REMINDER FOR YOU: To celebrate a successful year of writing, publishing, andliving, I offer you a 50% discount on all of my eBooks. Crazy, right? Click below.
Between now and year-end, you can purchase any of my eBooks at a 50% discount. Just clickHERE.
In this issue:
Debut Audiobook Madness
Reflecting on the year 2022
Year-End Sale: 50% Discount!
1. Debut Audiobook Madness
Old schtick: a man wanders around Lower Manhattan. This all-too-obvious tourist asks a savvy-looking native for directions. “Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me how I get to Carnegie Hall?” The Wall Streeter smirks and says, “Practice!”
– Anonymous, at least to me.
Like I said, an old schtick. And yes, I know Carnegie Hall Stern Auditorium is in Midtown.
Right now, I’m driven by this burning desire to do a few things well. Like, really well.
I read, and I write. A lot. Practice. I play my guitar, just a handful of songs and riffs. Not well, but better with each iteration. Practice. I paint in watercolor, and draw with pencil and charcoal. Not for a while, now. I will, again. Though not critically acclaimed, some of my hundreds of paintings and drawings are quite good. Most are not. Practice.
My problem? I lack a fear of failure. I need that character defect. It nourishes me.
I couldn’t draw, but I wanted to. So I practiced. This is one of my favorites. I call it “Caveman.”Maybe I’ve shown this to you before.
Someone shoved this crazy idea in my face. Now that I’ve written what folks tell me is a damn good book (Voodoo Vendetta is lucky number thirteen), they said I should transform it into an immersive audio experience.
I picture someone who is visually handicapped enjoying my book by listening to it. Or an over-the-road trucker who is too exhausted at the end of a long day of driving to read, but welcomes an entertaining diversion while she is driving. Or someone who doesn’t read well, but enjoys great stories. If I don’t do this….
It’s dark at 4:30AM, but quiet. The small brass desk light illuminating my mixing board and my computer’s lighted keyboard and screen provide all the illumination I need. I read my book aloud. Correction: I perform my book, tickling the volume knob and a few sliders, keeping my mouth eight inches or so from the pop shield between my face and the microphone. I lean in closer when whispering, and back, maybe to the side, when yelling.
On behalf of my characters, I laugh, prod, cajole, and plot. I smile and smell as I look for clues, or wave my arms to tell a bad joke, admiring her incredible auburn hair, the woman who has come into my main character’s life after “we’d” both suffered unimaginable personal tragedies. I read aloud. I perform. It’s painful, and a joy.
Then… I listen to how awful my own recorded voice sounds to me. I’m no voice actor! But I am the author of this story. I know this story. I’ve lived it, inside and out. For months. Still am. Like an undercover assignment where I got in too deep, not yet ready to come out.
So, who better to perform this tale of tragedy and joy for you? And when better than when it’s still hot off the presses? I record more. Listen more. Do it again, damn it. Just one more take.
I really want to bring this story to your ears. Maybe while you’re walking, or working out, or focusing on the road.
So, I practice. Until “The End.” Until it’s right. And compelling. At least that’s the theory. Yeah, I can do this. Can’t I?
Full disclosure: I’m about to geek out on you for a minute. But I can’t do this alone. I need your encouragement.
So, what now? Well, I’m already deep into the preliminary research necessary to record and produce my very first audiobook–my debut, as they say. Not to mention, a few recent purchases to pull this project off.
Someone asked me last night, “Research? A few purchases?” Yup. There’s a lot to learn, and a bit to buy. If you only knew. Or maybe you do. Check this out:
Audiobook (“AB”) platform requirements: Each platform (Audible, Audiobooks.com, Spotify, etc) requires slightly different formats and sizes of audio files, length and composition of intros and outros, room noise requirements, dynamic range…), covers (see below), as well as different royalty structures–how the author gets paid–and how much.
None of this seems as complex as ebooks or paperbacks, so I’m confident I can navigate this stuff.
Plus, I plan to enlist help from an aggregator to simplify the task of distributing my AB to various marketing channels (also, see below).
I hope to upload my audio files for Voodoo Vendetta early 2023.
Choice of AB aggregators (distributors): Similar to the process for “going wide” with ebooks and paperbacks, I plan to offer my AB(s) for sale by as many online AB retailers as possible, while minimizing my own efforts to do so (I’m not getting any younger, and I need to get back to writing).
ABs have their own unique channels, although some are affiliated with ebook and paperback channels.
For example, a popular aggregator like Audible (owned by Amazon), distributes ABs to Amazon and Apple.
Spotifyjust started selling ABs. Their main gig is music, and really isn’t an aggregator, but I mention it because it’s a big deal in the audio world.
Findaway Voices distributes to forty different AB channels worldwide (including Audible and Spotify). That’s right, forty–worldwide. And they offer authors a better royalty payment with Apple than Amazon!
Plus, they have a deal with my non-Amazon ebook aggregator,Draft2Digital, to enable adding ABs to my portfolio as slick as ice on a Minnesota sidewalk in January.
They even offer professional narrator interviews, should one be necessary. Cool beans.
And they convert my AB to different formats for me as required by their various channel partners prior to distribution.
The best part? They ask for no money upfront. They do take a cut of my royalties on every sale, but I continue to hold the rights to my work.
The marketplace coverage is worth it. Or so it seems. Decision made. Findaway Voices it is.
Production software education: This part is a lot of fun for me. I was a recording engineer once upon a time. BUT that was fifty years ago (gulp). A few things might have changed (wink). The baseline principle and “feel” of producing, mixing and mastering have not. Yeah, I’m feeling cautiously cocky.
I’ll be using a DAW (Digital Audio Workstation), a piece of sophisticated software that is already installed on my MacBook Pro (no additional cost). It’s called GarageBand. While not strictly a professional-caliber DAW, it’s darn close, and produces a professional product. But there’s definitely a learning curve.
GarageBand includes countless controls, sound effects, music loops and more tools to produce an AB than I will ever need. Ready to rock, kids.
Voice performance education: A segment of AB listeners (a serious growth market, by the way) prefer books narrated by their authors. My voice doesn’t sound like that of James Earl Jones, but it is good enough for this (I’m biased).
While I was never the “talent” in the recording booth back in the day (except for a few 30-second commercials), I worked the other side of the glass–on the control board.
One of my dear friends is a well-known Midwestern voice-over artist. But alas, osmosis won’t cut it. I’m on my own.
So I’m taking a couple of masterclasses on Voice Performance, along with the proper care and feeding of my vocal chords. Am I ever learning a lot!
Narrating my AB myself, instead of hiring a voice-over professional (narrator) will save me thousands for each AB I produce myself. Hopefully, this will be the first of many.
Just another side hustle. Now if they’ll just sell for me, right?
Already on-hand:
I have an awesome large diaphragm condenser microphone and a 10-channel mixing board that controls inputs of analog audio sources (voice, acoustic guitar, my flutes). This “interface” converts those signals to digital audio (computer) format. All the places that sell ABs require digitally recorded, compressed and formatted files. No problem. I’ve got this.
And my MacBook Pro is silent as a deep-space night. That’s important in a recording environment with a microphone (a.k.a. “mic”) so sensitive, I can hear through my headphones a clock ticking on the far side of the room (my “studio,” our spare bedroom). Kay sits next to that clock over there, twelve feet from the mic, and she can’t hear it ticking. Mighty Mic can.
Purchases: Then there’s a few bits of merchandise to acquire. I await their arrival while I study, learn, record raw and listen. It’s like radio acting. Within the next few days, I should receive:
A portable anechoic chamber: This configurable box will surround (most of) my microphone and pop shield with anti-echo foam baffles.
Should keep most external sounds from reaching it.
Otherwise, ambient room sounds will produce undesirable—even unacceptable—background noise in my voice track(s).
I’m also collecting other sound-absorbing material to further minimize noise (other than my voice) that might drive an aggregator to reject my AB files. They are very specific.
Desktop microphone mount: A superior anti-vibration suspension mount for my Behringer condenser microphone should be here in the next day or two. This will prevent minute vibrations from being transmitted to the mic.
Merry Christmas, Geno!
Draft artwork for my debut audiobook (yet to be recorded – I’m projecting availability 1Q2023). This 3,000×3,000-pixel design follows very specific hosting requirements for format, size, and consistency with other editions of this book, etc.
Maybe you know this if you’re an AB consumer. But one important difference in cover art: for an AB, the cover must be square, not rectangular. So, I’ve redesigned Voodoo Vendetta’s cover to these AB requirements.
Fortunately, my graphics design skills are adequate. So, I don’t need to pay a professional designer hundreds of dollars for each cover. It’s less about being cheap, and more about being a control freak.
By comparison, my final eBook cover art for this title. Consistent, right?
2. Reflecting on the Year 2022
Wholly enchilada! I recently realized I published FOUR books this year:
That’s a heck of a year for any author, especially while living on the road in our bus for almost half of this year in the Midwest, teaching writing and publishing seminars, and researching “Vendetta” in Louisiana this Fall. Hell, yeah!
I made this 4-books-in-a-year observation on Facebook last week, as if it just occurred to me. It had. Why did I just realize this? Because 2022 raced past me in a blur.
To be fair, I started Black Blizzard with a concept early in 2021 and my book Poetic Detectiveis a culmination of over forty years of ideas. Nevertheless, I’m now celebrating a productive publishing year. I think I can afford to offer a deep-discount year-end sale (see below). Pick up any of my books for a buck or three. Keep reading….
3. Year-end Sale: 50% Off All My Books!
Don’t forget! Last reminder (I promise).
You’re still just in time for the year-end holidays, click here between now and New Years Day 2022 to snag these great deals on one or more of my books. Or click on the image below:
I’d give ’em away, but my wife won’t let me (line stolen from a local used car salesman here in SW Florida)
I announced this sale in a recent newsletter, am reiterating here just in case you missed that.
Yup, I’m offering a 50% discount on the eBook edition of all my books–even the newest one that released just days ago. If I had an agent, she’d tell me this is nuts.
If you’re not familiar, Smashwords is a popular Amazon alternative. You also can search this link for “Jurrens” to find my books.
I hope you take advantage of this sale, read one or more of my books, and that you will let me know what you thought. As I’ve said before, authors live or die by reviews. Even a bad review is better than no review. Thanks in advance!
That’s all for now. So, until next year… and wherever you and I are, my friend…
Happiest of holidays to you and yours!
Gene
In the “studio” bluetoothin’ away….
Isaac Azimove: one of the most inspired writers of the twentieth century.
And to celebrate a successful year of writing, publishing and living….
Keep reading to find out how to score a great deal on thoughtful stocking stuffers.
Location: Punta Gorda, Florida
In this issue:
RV Rally Fun
Voodoo Vendetta en route to Worldwide Distribution
Case Study – Evolution of a Book Cover
Ice Ops – A Short Story
Year-end 50% Off All My Books!
1. RV Rally
Once in a while, we hang out with some Uber-interesting folks who share our passion for the nomadic lifestyle–the life of itinerant vagabonds.
The Full-timer’s chapter of the Newmar Owner’s Group gathered right here in our town, Punta Gorda in Southwest Florida. Kay and I so enjoyed seeing everyone again.
Fun fact: the RV Park that hosted our rally (food, fun, games, music, tall tales), Creekside RV Resort, saw forty rigs topple during Hurricane Ian’s onslaught. Not so much fun, however, for their owners. None of our group suffered damage as we go where the storms aren’t. When your home has wheels and catastrophe approaches, we beat feet.
We took this opportunity to enjoy a harbor cruise and a Christmas lights canal cruise with our RV friends. We also toured the Edison/Ford museum in Ft Myers. After living here for twenty years (when we’re not traveling), this is the first time we made it to that museum.
A fun harbor cruise with forty of our good RV friends.
Folks in Punta Gorda Isles go all out decorating their houses and boats in the canals, even after a major hurricane.
Remnant of Hurricane Ian during spotted our harbor cruise.
My ninth novel,“Voodoo Vendetta – A Literati Mystery”is officially available in both ebook and paperback editions in a bunch of online stores now (Amazon, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords…), and on its way at cyber-speed (faster than snail mail) to all the rest, worldwide. Including library services and reader subscription services (except for Kindle Unlimited which requires exclusivity–nope).
You might guess that launching a new title is exhausting. And you would be correct. So many details to manage. Everything has to be, well, perfect. And it takes a village.
While I’ve reduced the process to a straightforward workflow, it’s still a ton of work. As I reported in my last newsletter, early readers are loving this locked room whodunit murder mystery with myriad twists and characters you’ll love and hate, but for good reason. Some, you won’t be sure what to think.
As an adjunct, I thought some of you might like to see how this book’s cover evolved over the last few months based on useful but brutal feedback from readers and designers. If you’re interested in this sort of thing, keep reading. Otherwise, skip to details below on the huge year-end book sale to see how to save 50% on all of my titles, and a bunch of others.
From concept to….
3. Case Study – Evolution of a Book Cover
Never judge a book by its cover.
I.M. Naughtwriter
Poppycock!
In fact, the right cover is any author’s most powerful marketing tool. A great cover needs to:
Grab the casual shopper’s attention in two seconds or less, either in a bookstore, or online
Entice the online shopper to make a snap judgment from a thumbnail, a minuscule miniature of the book’s cover. That’s asking a lot from a picture the size of your thumbnail, and a design requirement often overlooked by rookie authors,
Identify the book’s genre (a murder mystery’s cover will look and feel very different from a romance story’s). This is more look and feel. Best achieved by studying other successful authors in the genre,
Set appropriate reader expectations with its title, font, color, text (back cover) and graphics.
Conversely, a not-so-great cover WILL be costly in lost sales. Worse, you may never know.
With each new book I publish, I am humbled by how much I still don’t know about book cover design. But I’m stubborn, and a control freak, and cheap, all of which prevents me from hiring a professional designer for each book. Plus, I enjoy endlessly tinkering with my covers’ designs.
So, I study the covers of other books in my genre–the ones that sell well. Even then, the most prominent feature on a famous and well-established author’s book cover will probably look very different from what my cover needs.
For example, what is the most prominent feature on the cover of a book written by James Patterson or JD Robb or Tom Clancey? Their name, of course. That makes no sense on my books because I’m not famous. Yet.
After tinkering, soliciting feedback, and more tinkering, I will still doubt my own cover design–the perennial paradox–one of many. For me, anyway. I know… madness.
Enough foreplay. Here are just a few of the dozens of iterations I went through for Vendetta’s cover.
Old working title. Eye-catching cover, but too cinematic. Looks like a collage of unrelated images (“What’s with the lipstick and cryptic background handwriting?”)
Too romantic a feel (it’s a mystery!) and too “fluffy.” Plus, this title still did not play well with reviewers. I still hadn’t lost the lipstick. And it looked mushy as a thumbnail. Make that downright illegible.
Better colors (more vibrant) to catch the eye as a thumbnail, and better title font, but still too many different fonts (3) for no good reason.Still too busy, and lacks coherence.
Better (catchy) title, and the overall design “feels” more mysterious (it’s a mystery!), but still too busy. These title/subtitle FONTS did not review well.
I also ground through several evolutions of the rear cover. I won’t bore you with that, but this darn cover drove me crazy. For months.
Thankfully, I received lots of constructive feedback. The final cover below also looks good as a thumbnail, I think, which is critically important for online sales pages. All the text is still fairly legible when reduced to a very small image. The title is a unique color and in a distinctive font called “Trash Hand.” I like that, as did reviewers:
And here’s the winner. Simple, but suggestive. Dark like the book’s theme. Much takes place in dark basements and tunnels, involves a mysterious (“dark?”) religion, and more than a few devious (dark?) characters and plot twists. Plus, of course, murder. Limited fonts (2) with smoky shadows, with a provocative tag line (“Culture That Kills”). Composite images are subtle but suggestive (not visually cluttered). Emphasizes a singular visual focus (the book’s title) with the series subtitle that grabs less focus, but still prominent (“A Literati Mystery”), which will appear on every cover in this series. One topic of continuing debate: characters’ faces on the cove? Or not? Screw it. I like it. Decision made! Done, already!
Thumbnail
So, there you have it. A study in dark lavender. As one of my villains in this book says:
“Black is the new white. Reminds me of Moskva’s winter nights after curfew, but without the cold.”
Tihomir Leonov
A cover doesn’t have to be pretty, but it MUST be effective.
4. Ice Ops – A Short Story
I’ll be publishing a collection of short stories in 2023. I offer you an advance peek at one that means a great deal to me. I hope you enjoy this free sneak preview.
“Ice Ops – A Rescue Mission” is a chilling true account of life over death for more than thirty souls, and the genesis of an injury for yours truly that persists to this day. If you are so inclined, you can read it here.
5. Year End Sale 50% Off
That’s right. I’m offering 50% off the eBook edition of all my books–even my newest–on Smashwords (an Amazon alternative).
Just in time for the year-end holidays, click here between December 15 and December 31, 2022 to snag these great deals. Or simply click on the image below:
This is INSANITY!
That’s all for now. So, until… and wherever, my friend…
WonderWhodunnit in the New Literati Mystery Series by GK Jurrens
1. Eye-Witness Report From Hurricane Country
As the man (Uncle Sam) says, and I’m paraphrasing here, It ain’t pretty! And so much worse than you see on the news.
Commercial businesses are seen in the wake of Hurricane Ian, Thursday, Sept. 29, 2022, in Fort Myers Beach, Fla. (AP Photo/Wilfredo Lee)
“On Sept. 28, Hurricane Ian made landfall near Cayo Costa in southwestern Florida as a dangerous, high-end Category 4 storm after plowing a path of destruction through the Caribbean, bringing particularly heavy rainfall and dangerous surf to Jamaica, the Cayman Islands, and western Cuba.”
Courtesy: Patabook
Other than a national and global news highlight, you might ask, “So what?” You saw “Cayo Costa” mentioned above in the paragraph I quoted from the National Oceanographic & Atmospheric Administration of the US Department of Commerce. We, too, can literally see the island of Cayo Costa west of our condo complex. Miss Kay and I perch on the eastern shore of Charlotte Harbor.
Again, so what? You see, our home was literally at Ground Zero for the worst weather event to strike Florida in almost a century.
Yeah, it ain’t pretty, but we fared so much better than so many others.
“Ian came ashore near Cayo Costa, Florida, at 3:05 p.m. EDT with maximum sustained winds of 150 mph, tying the record for the fifth-strongest hurricane on record to strike the United States.”
NOAA, US Dept of Commerce
Three things about this particular storm you might find of interest, and by now, no surprise:
Its strength: The human psyche just cannot comprehend what sustained winds (for hours) of 150+ MPH means in practical terms. Out in the open, a hundred MPH at ultra-low barometric pressure will suck the air right out of your lungs. Examples of the storm’s brutality: Ian tossed around hundred-foot boats weighing fifty tons, hundreds of feet from the water. There isn’t a sign or billboard in SW Florida that isn’t knocked down, twisted, or just gone. Hundred-year-old trees are ripped from the ground with their root balls still clinging to tons of dirt they brought up with them as they went over. There’s a saying here in the context of such a frightening phenomenon: “If it ain’t concrete, it’s rubble.” Even with several days notice of this muscular weather event’s approach, still, over a hundred souls in Florida alone perished.
Its speed: Hurricane Ian was a very slow-moving storm. Again, in practical terms, that means it, or the hundreds of tornadoes spun off from its eyeball, chewed on anything in its path for more than a dozen hours before the worst of it moved on (per some of our neighbors). If this storm were an evil villain in one of my novels, its strategy would have been to intimidate, threaten, demoralize, and weaken you with a brutal beating. Then, he would torture you, managing to sustain exquisite pain for many hours, far beyond your physical and emotional endurance. When he would grow bored with your suffering, he’d fling your lifeless body and everything you own into the raging sea that had come ashore. But first, he’d ensure the total destruction of everything in your life that you ever loved. After all that, with the coldest of hearts, he’d leave any survivors around you feeling exposed, powerless, and if possible, penniless—for years—as if that would bring joy to the uncaring hole in his soul, a hole that can never be filled. Yeah, even though he’s just an amalgamation of environmental factors, I’d write him as an evil bastard with no hope of redemption. That’s how small we are in the presence of nature’s fury–we can’t be objective. But good people rallied. Survivors clung together. The best of humanity prevailed.
Its size: At over 400 miles in diameter, for some, there was just no escape. It changed the lives of millions by cutting a swath of annihilation across a large portion of this part of the world (Atlantic and Caribbean islands, most of Florida, the SE United States, and the Northeast.
“In all, the storm knocked out power to more than four million customers in Florida, and an additional 1.1 million homes and businesses lost power when the storm plowed through the Carolinas. Recovery costs estimated to be around $47 billion in insured losses, according to research firm CoreLogic.”
NOAA, US Dept of Commerce
Shelters set up across the area aided those rendered homeless by Hurricane Ian.
Because Miss Kay and I are fortunate enough to live (some of the time) in a steel-reinforced concrete building, our condo suffered minimal damage. Others in our association, however, weren’t so lucky.
While the main buildings all survived with aplomb, some windows and lanais (“porches”) were ruthlessly ripped away, allowing water to find a way inside. Some apartments are completely gutted due to water damage after the storm (as ours was after Hurricane Charley in 2004).
Almost two months after the storm, our neighborhood doesn’t look so bad, does it? It’s what you can’t see at a glance that has a few of our neighbors pleading with their insurance companies for financial compensation. And it’s that damage that will drive emotional distress for the rest of some people’s lives. What you can’t see. Kay and I were lucky. And as a neighborhood, the repairs we effected across this 16-acre property after Hurricane Charley in 2004 served us well through this particularly nasty storm.
But beyond our neighborhood, the devastation was complete on the barrier islands between us on the mainland and the Gulf of Mexico (Cayo Costa, Pine Island, Captiva, Sanibel, Ft Myers Beach….). We don’t go down there, even if we could. Strict quarantine and/or curfews try to prevent looting. Many of these looters (“shoppers”) aren’t even from Florida!
A lot of the places we used to frequent are just… gone.
In early October, as we approached SW Florida in our motorhome right after the storm, we saw HUNDREDS of power and telephone maintenance/repair trucks, most from out of state heading south on I-75. Even a bunch of out-of-state fire trucks.
We saw military convoys pouring into the area to aid in disaster relief efforts.
FEMA (the feds) had thrown up entire tent and trailer CITIES as temporary shelters and housing for emergency crews imported from all over the country.
Countless Good Samaritans opened up their homes to the newly homeless, including several of our own neighbors.
Insurance companies imported hundreds of adjusters to assess damage. They have their own tents here and there as focal points for their adjusters.
Soldiers (Army, National Guard) passed out millions of bottles of water, helping local and state law enforcement and fire fighters with evacuations and other forms of disaster relief.
It was thrilling to see this side of humanity in action!
Our own community (Burnt Store Marina), while very well maintained with mostly new docks and other upgraded infrastructure, took a beating worse than our condos.
Boats piled on top of one another, and several docks are either gone or rendered useless. The storm snapped treated wood pilings a foot or more in diameter like toothpicks….
We still see so much damage even now, almost two months downrange from the storm. They’re still picking up the pieces. Repairs and restoration will take much longer.
We can’t see much of the costly damage to boats in the marina. I talked with a diver who says so many boats—the ones that didn’t sink or weren’t flung ashore—took their worst hits below the waterline. Damaged hulls, bent propellers and shafts, gouges and cracks. But most of these boats aren’t peoples’ homes or livelihoods. So we have nothing to complain about.
Nothing.
A diver loads his camera to take insurance photos of a damaged prop, a shattered swim platform, and gouges in the hull–all damage caused by this boat riding up over the dock during the storm. See those “toothpicks” laying on this decimated dock? They’re at least 15″ in diameter. Poof!I believe this is (was) someone’s home. It took awhile to get this big sailing catamaran off the seawall. Fiberglass versus concrete? No contest.
To answer your next inevitable question, we were not here on September 28. We were in our motorhome on Galveston Island on the Texas Gulf coast as the storm approached Florida.
We then slowed our return home by hanging out in NW Louisiana when the storm made landfall, essentially, right over our home. We then staged to just east of Tampa until power was restored to our neighborhood in early October. Otherwise, we would have become part of the problem.
Now it’s just a matter of each owner chipping in to pay the insurance deductible to address the association’s damage (gulp).
The South Shore community where we live within Burnt Store Marina was so fortunate. None of our neighbors and friends lost their lives. We were blessed to have been traveling at the time. If we’d been here, we’d have rolled on out of here on September 25th before the storm came ashore. The “nice” thing about hurricanes (unlike tornadoes)? You have DAYS of advance warning.
We are also blessed with the means to hire an experienced disaster clean-up company to get us back to some semblance of normal sooner rather than later.
Our “hidey hole” (shelter) from the storm in NW Louisiana as the storm approached our brick ‘n mortar home in SW Florida. I had planned to be there to research the Creole culture for “Voodoo Vendetta,” anyway. We just extended our stay because of a brute named Ian. No, we were not roughing it (well, no dishwasher, except for me). How fortunate are we to have an “evacuation-capable” home? A small matter of eight wheels, an 8.9 liter turbo diesel power plant and a 7.5 kilowatt generator! Not to mention a co-pilot I love spending time with in this 300 square-foot house.
Kay and I are blessed. We can afford to take nothing for granted, especially in times of disaster and prolonged recovery. Life is just too short, and getting shorter every day, my friend. For all of us.
2. Wonder Whodunnit in the New Literati Mystery Series
by GK Jurrens
Moving on….
“Voodoo Vendetta’s” Kindle edition is now available for pre-order for automatic November 30th delivery. Paperback edition to follow in all major online storefronts worldwide soon after Thanksgiving (well before Christmas, if you’re looking for gift ideas).
You can check out the basic premise and early reviews of Book One, “Voodoo Vendetta”here. But below is something extra,, just for you—a short chapter that reveals my main character’s motivation:
Sunday, June 21st
A Few Years From Now
DuSable Park
Chicago, Illinois
11:30AM
* * *
It would be a day to remember.
The mid-morning air glowed with uncharacteristic brilliance. The haze abated, allowing the summer sun to boast its magnificence in a sky of muted blue. A miraculous day, a unique day of days.
Melissa and Clancy Greigh stood in a line that meandered around the corner of their favorite food truck, Aphrodite’s Kitchen. They chuckled at each other’s stupid jokes, none of them worthy of a full-fledged laugh. But their hearts were full, unlike their stomachs.
Now it was their turn to order, at last. Aphro looked down at the pair of redheads, mother and daughter. In her heavy Greek accent, she chirped, “And what may I make for you lovely ladies?”
Instead of sharing an order of moussaka—their standard fare for their traditional Sunday morning outing to the park—Clance bubbled with anticipation as she delivered her well-rehearsed little speech. Though only six years old, Clance already enjoyed a sophisticated palate. “Mummy, could I have my own gyro today instead of splitting a moussaka? Please, please?” She widened her smiling eyes and wrinkled her tiny forehead as her eyebrows shot farther toward her hairline in gleeful expectation.
After all, she was a big girl now.
* * *
Mel grinned up at Aphro.
The street chef shrugged at the convincing little speech. Mum gazed down at her little redhead. What an amazing child. If only dear Greigh were here. She reflected on this, one of those defining moments in a parent’s life. He was missing it, but she knew how important his project was to him—and to all of them. After all, The Literati was their home.
Clance had become her own person, and her brilliance beamed for all to see. Mel imagined what her little girl would do with her gifts in life.
She was about to yield to her beautiful daughter’s big-girl plea, even though she knew the sandwich would be way too much for her. And then a terrible crack of thunder echoed through the park. Mel studied Clance’s wide-eyed wonder as a field of crimson blossomed across her tiny chest and her white camisole.
Mel registered instant concern, thinking Aphro might have dripped tomato sauce on her from above, which stains, but then lightning struck, and night fell.
* * *
Sir Aubrey Greigh labored at home.
With a maniacal focus, he pursued his twin passions—writing and crusading. He owned suite 7D in Hotel Literati. As a condo owner and president of “The Lit” Homeowner’s Association, he labored with prodigious passion to ensure their home never fell into the hands of a greedy land developer. If that happened, they’d demolish their beloved building.
Sure, they’d offer a generous buy-out, but that wasn’t the point at all, was it?
And then the call came that changed everything.
Later, the news anchor reported.
“A sniper fatally shot five people and wounded two others standing in line at a Greek food truck in DuSable Park near the waterfront earlier today. Authorities will release no details until they notify families of the victims….”
Wednesday, June 24th
Apartment 7D
Hotel Literati
Chicago, Illinois
* * *
Ten PM came and went.
Three days ago, Greigh’s universe went super nova. He sat on his sofa facing a dark fireplace… lost. He couldn’t even cry.
More than a hundred of his neighbors and sundry celebrities—he had no friends, really—shared his profound grief at the funeral earlier that afternoon, and afterward, for his ladies’ interment in the family crypt.
Just another unsolved random mass shooting. An acquaintance looped into the investigation told him the only “signature” left by the killer was a unique slug—a .338 Lapua Magnum cartridge—from an ancient weapon called an IWI DAN .338, a tactical rifle that hadn’t been manufactured for almost fifty years.
Two slugs from that weapon ended the lives of Melissa and Clancy Greigh. It might as well have ended his, too.
That’s all for now. So until… and wherever, my friend (from Ground Zero for a few more months)…
Almost two dozen folks attended my series of writing and publishing seminars in Rochester, Minnesota during the month of August.
I truly appreciate each of you who not only attended, but participated enthusiastically, even though I bludgeoned you with a ton of information that I’m confident you will use. But hey, a leopard can’t change his stripes (yeah, I know).
I also appreciate all of your purchases of my books. Please let me know what you think of them. Authors live and die by reviews, and I eagerly look forward to any accolades, of course, but I especially need critical reviews as well. That’s how you and I grow as authors.
I am also grateful to have been asked for an encore performance at 125Live! next Spring, kids, so as Arnie would say, “I’ll be back!” Some of you have also requested a seminar on writing, reading and critiquing poetry. Let me think about that. But in that very spirit, I offer you a sample from one of my latest books below. Consider reading something different. Do you dare to venture out, intrepid soul?
C’mon, “it don’t hurt!”
2. Excerpt From a Daring New Book
If you haven’t yet realized, it takes guts to publish a book—any book. You risk “putting it all out there for the whole world to see.” Inevitable doubt crawls all around and through me as I ask myself:
Will my readers hate it?
Is the entire idea of my book dumb?
Even if the idea isn’t dumb, is my writing going to ruin an otherwise good book idea?
Will I sell even a single copy?
Add your own personal poison to this list that could be short or long, depending on your own temperament.
This list can be lengthy, especially if you venture far from your comfort zone, like I did with this book. But what’s life without spice? To me, that means a willingness and an openness to take literary risks! If reward seeks me out, that’s nice, but that will not hold my spirit hostage.
So, as harebrained an idea as it seemed, I decided to publish a book about poetry. “What?” my mentors exclaimed. “Yup, poetry, but with a twist. I’m going to first write a guide on how to read and interpret fine poetry, to better appreciate what I call this art form’s “sexy anatomy.” And then, I’ll include a brief subset of my own collection so readers can more effectively rip my work to ribbons with their newfound knowledge!
“That’s a really dumb idea,” I was told, “Stick to your genre,” they said, “this book will never sell.”
“I do not care.” I was adamant about this. I’d scribbled verses on napkins and reams of discarded paper when I worked as a third-shift computer operator decades ago. Collected them all, and finally digitized them (as we used to say).
Some people collect tattoos. I write poems… on paper… and with a keyboard—they’re easier to edit than tattoos.
Further, I was taught by esteemed poet—John Sibley Williams, serial winner of the prestigious Pushcart Prize for Fine Poetry—that it is a privilege to know what a poet was thinking when they composed the poem after you read it, or hear it performed. “It is a window into the poet’s soul.” I thought including that very window after each verse might enhance the readers’ experience as they read my new brain-fart of a book (of which I am now quite proud).
Toward that end, I would offer a few words of “author’s advice” before each piece, as well as a brief essay after each piece that would yield clues into that poem’s architecture and the insanity that inspired it.
I’d also embellish each piece with an original image relevant to each poem.
Now that would be a unique book about and of poetry!
I was told, “You will further shrink its already niched-down audience.” I said, “I do not care! I gotta do this.”
This is my vision for “The Poetic Detective.” See the book’s synopsishere. It is now available worldwide (gulp)—my third book published in 2022.
But I still kept asking myself, “What, in my particular Hell, am I doing? I have so many novels yet to write. This is a distraction. I’m already seventy-two years old, and I’m running out of frickin’ time.”
But then I remembered another aphorism from one of my other revered mentors, “Never quit,” she’d say, “That includes never quitting on an idea if it is your passion.”
So, I’m putting it all out there with this book, kids. Think what you will. This is my biggest personal publishing risk to date—a window into my wildly imperfect soul. Think less of me if you will.
This is an exercise in personal courage, and I feel great!
With all humility, I offer you this verse, an excerpt from my latest book,“The Poetic Detective:”
A Profile in Personal Courage
“Hollow Heart”
Author’s advice:
The solitary image of an elegant creature stands on just one leg in darkness. While beautiful, it seems ill-defined with a shadowy and cool color palette of finite colors. This creature is unsure of himself, looking within his own hollow heart for answers to arrive at some conclusion about his inflexibility. We must find this muddy declaration ironic as others have always viewed him as the essence of flowing grace.
This eight-line poem, though using metaphoricalimagery, is self-evident. Even so, I will offer you a few insights why I used some unusual phrases in the brief essay that follows the poem.
* * *
A solitary soul stands alone so preposterous,
no longer a mere reflection, now a beacon.
A cacophony, their platitudes ring so boisterous,
bounce around him like so many who have weakened
to temptations of easy mirrors grown squalid,
he’s polished his keen vision to a deep stained-less screen,
their certitudes still echo behind, he greets a less solid
footing, slipping and sliding on a cellophane sheen.
* * *
Poet’s Notes:
I am exceedingly proud of the image I created and selected to introduce this poem. This abstraction of a great egret captured a blue ribbon (first place) for me in the 2011 Florida Council of Camera Clubs statewide competition in the Creative Photography category.
Of far greater significance, this effigy portrays that which is strange and misunderstood, even unrecognizable, yet esteemed in a corner of our mind, maybe in spite of appearing foreign to our concept of “normal.” Still, we find beauty and grace.
This poem ponders a man with a closed mind, believing only that which supports his current beliefs. But an unspoken event opens his aperture. We do not know what or why. Maybe he doesn’t either. Let’s explore the rationale for the language I chose.
When we follow what we are certain to be “true,” that is the precise time to challenge why we are so sure of ourselves (“no longer a mere reflection”).
That stand may isolate us from our peers (“A solitary soul stands alone so preposterous”). We may do so despite the surrounding noise to the contrary (“A cacophony, their platitudes rang boisterous”). We may even share our discoveries with others (“now a beacon”).
Even though the strength of our newfound convictions may cause others to see us as feeble pariahs, we remain strong (“bounce around him like so many who have weakened”).
The simple path of the benign follower (“to temptations of easy mirrors”) no longer draws our hero of newfound courage and morality. In fact, they have become a sordid taste to his evolving social palate (“grown squalid”).
He has, for an unspoken reason, clarified his view of himself and what he now recognizes as the impurity of his earlier motives (“he’s polished his keen vision to a deep stained-less screen”).
With the old platitudes haunting him (“their certitudes still echo behind”), he second-guesses his new attitudes (“he greets a less solid / footing, slipping and sliding on a cellophane sheen”). End of poem.
So is that it? What else? As in real life, some applaud someone else for taking a stand if he’s transforming himself, but we do not see the entire story. We cannot peer into the future, nor can he. The rest of the story remains a mystery. This is where your imagination takes control. Go wild.
Oh, you will have observed an a-b-a-b rhyme pattern. Not subtle. Neither is our new intellectual drone-now-hero, even though he may not feel like it. He has transformed at great personal expense. Doing the next right thing can be painful… and fulfilling. Unless he caves to social pressure once again.
Which way will your wind blow, my friend?
So until… and wherever (from SE Minnesota, for a few more days)…
Gene (and Kay)
By early October, I will be back in my condo office where I’ll once again revel in unfettered access to all my hardcopy reference books and our complete library. Though I teach a “paperless” writing and publishing process to my students while we’re “on the road” out of my own necessity (almost no wall or bookshelf space in our motorhome), old habits die hard. I still love the texture and smell of paper! I also hope to start recording audiobook editions of at least some of my titles. So much to do. Adieu!
Dateline: Thursday, July 14, 2022
Location: Rochester, Southeast Minnesota
In this issue:
Three Free Seminars
Book Signing
1. Three FREE Writing & Publishing Seminars
Are you driving yourself crazy trying to get inspired to write the book you know is in you?
Do you worry about tumbling farther down the rabbit hole figuring out all this writing, editing, formatting & publishing stuff?
Do you worry about the countless costly scams aimed at new writers?
I have a safe & straightforward solution for you!
Keep reading, my friend.
You can do this. We are in this together!
125Live! is a gorgeous fitness and social facility adjacent to the Rochester Recreation Center where they hold competitive swim and dive meets, professional hockey games, and I don’t really know what else, but they’re absolutely crushing it.
Kay and I head south and west to Texas, and then to Louisiana beginning in early September before returning home to Florida. Before that, I’m offering three FREE writing and publishing seminars in Rochester, Minnesota. That’s about seventy miles southeast of the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul. If you’re in the neighborhood, I’ll be at 125 Elton Hills Drive NW Rochester, MN 55901 in “the Med City” (home of the world-famous Mayo Clinic), specifically in the Oak Room (lower level) at 125Live (see dates/times below).
Currently, I only offer these seminars in-person. I may offer these as an eCourse in the future. I’m just so darn busy writing and teaching, so no promises.
Here’s the run-down:
Seminar objectives: To instill aspiring writers and published authors alike with confidence in your ability to create a page-turning story, and to lead you step-by-step from inspiration and getting started writing (PART ONE) to formatting, publishing and optional marketing (PART TWO) and what free or cheap computer software and other resources simplify an otherwise tricky end-to-end write-to-publish process (PART THREE). Students of any age can choose to become published authors of one or more novels capable of climbing the charts to best-seller status, OR just to create your legacy. Get on the fast track to living the writer’s life!
Which seminar is right for you?Attend any or all of this trio of inspiring and information-packed seminars.
EACH IS DIFFERENT.
If the first one tweaks your melon, c’mon back for the next one. FYI: PART THREE’S softwaredemonstrations build on information covered in PART TWO (see below).
WRITING & PUBLISHING YOUR OWN BOOK LIKE A PRO
PART ONE (90 MINUTES)
August 11, 2022 at 125Live! (Oak Room)
1-2:30PM
Veteran author GK Jurrens teaches and coaches aspiring writers all over the country—from Florida to California. He’ll explore with you the kind of writing you might want to pursue. Then, he’ll offer you a proven writing technique that will carry you from inspiration to publication, and share with you specifically how to achieve your personal writing goals. At the end of this session, all attendees are offered a free eBook packed with practical resource links for later digestion.
WRITING & PUBLISHING YOUR OWN BOOK LIKE A PRO
PART TWO (90 MINUTES)
August 18, 2022 at 125Live! (Oak Room)
1-2:30PM
Gene focuses on his proven streamlined publishingprocess. Priorities include simplicity and cost-effectiveness. You’ve written a book. Or soon will. Congratulations! Now what? Gene will walk you through the steps to ensure your manuscript is publication-ready. This seminar is a priceless session packed with valuable information for both aspiring and published authors, even if you haven’t written your first book yet, or you’ve written your tenth. Avoid the literary land mines!
WRITING & PUBLISHING YOUR OWN BOOK LIKE A PRO
PART THREE (90 MINUTES)
August 25, 2022 at 125Live! (Oak Room)
1-2:30PM
Gene polishes off your writing and independent publication journey with practical demonstrations using his latest novel as a real-world case study. As always, his focus remains on simplicity and cost-effectiveness as he demonstrates his progression from idea to worldwide publication, and how to open the door for your book into every major online storefront worldwide including eBook, paperback and hardcover editions.
Let’s do this!
2. Book Signing
Yours truly at a recent bookstore signing event in Fairfield, Iowa (Revelations!)
Barring catastrophes, I’d also invite you to our RV park on Saturday, August 27th from 1 to 3 PM. I’ll sign any or all of my books for free; however, there will be a charge for the books themselves (wink).
I accept cash (preferred) and all major credit cards. No checks, please. Books are $10 to $20 each, including a personalized autograph, of course.
Otherwise, you can find all my books at all major digital storefronts worldwide. But where’s the fun in that if we can talk trash face-2-face?
Note: I may have one additional book available in late August, unless I get lazy between now and then.
Plug this address into your GPS: 1155 Lake Shady Avenue S. Oronoco, MN 55960, just 4 miles north of Rochester, exit 64 off Highway 52 at Tilly’s American Traveler’s RV Resort. I hope to see you at the campground’s clubhouse. Look for the little brick building standing all by itself in the park.
Otherwise, shoot best wishes our way!
So until… and wherever (from SE Minnesota, for now)…
Gene (and Kay)
I’ve started on my Literati Mystery series. In book one, the victim(s) are poets. So, cleverly, the first book’s working title (subject to change) is“Rhyme to Kill – A Literati Mystery.”Yes, there are no boundaries to my creativity (blechhh!). This first book in the series should be available March 2023. I’m attaching a VERY EARLY ROUGH DRAFT of its cover below (DEFINITELY subject to change!). As always, I treasure constructive criticism.
Dateline: Thursday, June 30, 2022
Location: Rochester, Minnesota, USA, Earth, Milky Way,Sector A1X44.22
In this issue:
New GK Jurrens Novel Available
Another Book On the Way
2022 Coastal Writer’s Conference Update
Life on the Hard
While storms rage all around us, tranquility prevails within our humble bus, as did COVID for a time. All better now.
As we spend some time with family and friends in our hometown of Rochester, Minnesota, we reflect that while traveling and living in different places for a time, staying in one place for a while also has its perks. And, as it turns out, has saved us from potential catastrophe. More to come on that.
Despite a few small health challenges (we self-quarantined after both getting our “COVID genetic update,” which was quite mild thanks to getting all our shots), we remain blessed and grateful to be enjoying a lifestyle of which most can only dream.
This small park features only 33 sites. Since we were the first here, we chose to be next to the “clubhouse.” Nice restrooms, decent laundry facilities, great WiFi for streaming, even 5G for higher speeds. Not much else here, but that’s okay, other than it bugs Kay it’s called a “resort.”
1. New Novel Now Available
Imagine you’re a cop trying to catch a serial killer without traffic cameras, facial recognition, fingerprints, DNA or other esoteric forensic science tools. Oh, and no online police or federal databases—because there is no “online” in 1934. No state police, the FBI is still in its infancy, and you’re just one of three cops in a small town with no police department.
You’re the sheriff responsible for a large county, and you have just two deputies.
Now here’s the rub. People start dying mysteriously the day a rag-bag gypsy circus shows up at the county fairgrounds down the street in your town of Rock Rapids, Iowa. In your county—Lyon County.
What do you do?
That’s what Sheriff Billy Rhett Kershaw faces starting on page one as my new murder mystery novel,“Murder in Purgatory,”kicks off.
Early readers tell me “Purgatory” is my best book yet. This is my seventh published novel, and the second in my Lyon County series. “Black Blizzard” preceded it.
One reader said, “Purgatory’s a helluva yarn, even better than ‘Black Blizzard,‘ and that’s saying something.”
These are the kind of reviews an author lives for! I certainly don’t write for the money.
You can check out a synopsis of all my books here.
2. Another Book On the Way
Are you ready for something completely different? Hang onto your droopin’ skivvies, sailor!
Have you noticed I tend to favor “different?” How about an operations manual for how to read and enjoy poetry? Didn’t see that coming, I bet!
“The Poetic Detective” began as a lark. But believe it or not, I discovered it fills a unique literary niche.
Most folks can’t be bothered with “that poetry crap.” Why? I’m betting it’s mostly because they don’t understand poetry.
This tight little book fixes that in a way that’s fun, with no BS. Just a lean ‘n mean description of the language of poetry, a few case studies to make it clear what each term looks like in practice, and then I include a small collection of my own poetry with an essay for each so the reader (you?) knows what the heck I was thinking when I wrote each piece (some date back forty years).
Read this short book when it comes out in August, and you, too, could get promoted to poetic detective!
I guarantee you’ll never look at any poem the same way—ever again.
Guaranteed.
I’m planning publication for mid-August. Watch this space.
3. Coastal Writer’s Conference
Sad news. Inflation (and a sizable assessment on our Florida condo) compels us not to travel west this Summer. As a result, I’ll either be dialing into the writing conference I am co-sponsoring this Fall, or my dear friend, Judy Howard, will carry on the good fight without yours truly. Time and technology will tell.
Had we not cancelled our trip west this Summer, starting two weeks ago, we’d be paying big bucks to stay near Yellowstone for a month, and we would have been turned away. Was it providence that we cancelled—and were refunded most of $3,000 for eighteen months worth of advance campground reservations? Or fate? Or just good luck? We don’t need to care.
It is with grace and humility that we must accept adversity and diversity, lest we lose our humanity. That’s what I’m telling myself right now, anyway. And I’m believing it.
4. Life on the Hard
We sold the good ship “Sojourn” in 2010 after 13 years of sailing over incredible horizons.
The expression “on the hard” is left over from our boating days.
Not surprisingly, lakes and rivers get very hard in the winter in Minnesota, which is where we once kept our boats. But that’s not the origin of that expression in this context.
I can’t speak to folks even crazier than us who move their fish houses out onto the ice, with their bed and pot belly stove next to a hole in the floor (the ice) where they’ll wet their lines and hooks at will (is that hole in the ice where they pee, too?). I don’t call that living on the hard. To my way of thinking, that’s just a lack of sanity, but who am I to judge? My home has eight wheels, and we’ve lived in 42 states over the last seven years!
In boating parlance, each Fall, we’d pull our live-aboard boat out of the water before everything froze. That can seriously damage even the most stout vessel. Once out of the water, our twenty-ton boat would settle onto its cradle (so it wouldn’t tip over) in the marina’s asphalt parking lot.
Now there was a variety of reasons I might spend more than a few nights on the boat after it was “on the hard.” It would take me days to winterize “Sojourn” from stem to stern. I’d also thoroughly clean her inside and out before putting her to bed for the winter. Often, after a hard day of working on her, I’d be too exhausted to make the forty-five-minute drive home. And sometimes, it was just too darn hard to say goodbye without spending some quality time with her at the end of the short boating season.
That was “life on the hard.” And especially as I aged, it always was a relative hardship, often without power (electricity), limited or no water (tanks were empty), and getting in and out of the boat on the hard always involved a twelve-foot ladder. Since pumping out the holding tanks was no longer possible, when I had to pee, especially in the middle of the night, it was a big deal—climbing down and up the ladder in the dark, hiking to the yacht club to use the facilities…). Well, you get the idea. In that context, hard had two meanings.
Now, let’s talk about “life on the hard” with the bus, which couldn’t be more different. Now, the best RV sites (parking spots) feature level concrete. That’s where we are now. Our leveling jacks don’t sink into muck (like they did at the last spot), requiring constant re-leveling. The motorhome’s exterior stays cleaner than, say, on a gravel or grass site where every time it rains, gravel dust or mud splashes up onto the coach’s body. Not on concrete, at least not as much. I get all warm and fuzzy knowing there is a nice clean level slab of hard concrete about four feet beneath my bony butt right now.
My office-slash-living room-slash-cockpit, all within easy reach of the coffee pot, kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. Efficient and comfortable, baby!
Hardships associated with life on the hard in an RV versus the boat? Not so much. Full hook-ups (electric, sewer & water) allow us the freedom not to think about that stuff too much. When we stay in one place for a good long while, like now, we leave our gray (sink & shower) holding tank valve open so we don’t have to worry about filling up that tank with waste water. Everything else stays hooked up, so it’s much like the convenience of living in stix ‘n brix (like the condo).
We still worry about weather, especially high winds. But no ladders, no hikes in the middle of the night, and no freezing our tukkuses off when the temps drop (or cooking us when they climb). Yup, life on the hard in an RV, especially in a rig like ours, isn’t a “hardship,” or “camping,” or even “glamping” (glamor camping). It’s just… life. Twenty years ago, well, it was different for us back then. We’d tent-camp while touring on the motorcycles and sleeping on the “hard” ground. Now, we enjoy our creature comforts (upon advice of my orthopedic surgeon. Right, Doctor Bob?).
Besides, one of the primary reasons we’re here is to visit family.
Toys!Kids!Food!A family celebration at our son Adam’s campground where he keeps a trailer for the summer.
Now, Kay and I enjoy our protein smoothies in the morning after we meditate together, head to the gym for an hour or two, and return home for a vegetarian lunch. Yesterday, we enjoyed pulled pork. “Wait,” you might ask, “didn’t you say you guys are vegetarians?” Well, let me say this about that…
Mmmmm… smoked pulled pork fried up with onions and mushrooms! Except this isn’t pork, even though you’d be hard-pressed to tell the difference. This is “pulled jackfruit” dressed up and seasoned to look and taste like SMOKED pork. Worth four generous servings! Yes, it’s processed food, but this ain’t no religion, and variety keeps us motivated.
If you’re a vegetarian, and you miss pork, or can’t eat pork for health reasons, this is the best we’ve found so far.
Quite a lot of sodium. Other than that, not too bad.
Ingredients don’t look terrible.
On date day (we prefer this over going out at night), we might have lunch out, possibly a movie, but only in theaters that feature recliners!
Other days, we clean, maintain the bus, read, write, watch TV… oh, and Kay insists on pushing “puppy cookies” into the mouth of every dog in the RV park. That keeps her busy while I write or research.
And there is always the possibility of a hike, a bicycle ride, maybe even an afternoon nap.
Together, we attend AA meetings on Sundays and Tuesdays. Kay meets with her women’s group on Thursday mornings, I meet with my men’s group on Thursday nights.
I need to start thinking about selling some of my books locally, too. It’s on my list! We’re just having so much fun playing! For example, we’re members of a local facility called 125Live. They have an amazing state-of-the-art workout facility. They also offer classes, have two amazing pools (one for exercise, one for laps), a robust calendar of social events, concerts, library, free coffee, a pantry of free groceries available to anyone (contributed by local supermarkets), music jams, a wood shop, volunteer opportunities, anything and everything for “active adults.” That’s a euphemism for ‘old folks.’
“Our Club” is a gorgeous facility adjacent to the Rochester Recreation Center where they hold competitive swim and dive meets, professional hockey games, and I don’t really know what else, but they’re absolutely crushing it.
Though their primary charter is offering activities for seniors, we see young folks there too. I’m looking forward to my July 9th “Pottery Play Date.” Just show up and everything is provided. Gonna take my turn at a wheel (I know Jeff H, old hat to you, my friend).
How cool is this place for just $17/month for each of us? Now if it were called, “The Senior Citizen’s Center,” that might have slowed me down some. But quite frankly, I’m of the age where such concerns are now delegated to younger folks.
Yup, it’s nice to stay in one place for a while. I even splurged for an “unlimited wash club” for the Jeep, a month at a time, for 35 bucks. Goin’ crazy over here “livin’ on the hard!”
So until… and wherever (but from SE Minnesota, for now)…
Gene (and Kay)
I’m thinking my next several novels will be a series of mysteries with a curmudgeonly author reluctantly working alongside a sassy and ambitious homicide detective with a spectacular case closure rate. What say you?