View from the end of our street, February 22nd, 2019

Thursday, August 31, 2017

31 Aug 17

          Good morning, all.  Up at 7:30 this morning.  Seems I'm learning the art of sleeping in.  For reasons I don't understand, ever since I retired, I've been getting up and watching the sun come up when I could be sleeping until noon, and no one would care.  I guess it's only a pain when you have to do it.
          On the pinched nerve front, I went to physical therapy yesterday afternoon with my right arm burning like fire.  They put 22 pounds of traction on my neck for twenty minutes, which relieved the pain while they were doing it, but as soon as they stopped, it came right back.  An hour or so later, though, a tremendous relief set in that continues today.  I have two more sessions, then a consultation where they evaluate me for a home traction kit; apparently I'll be hanging myself on a regular basis.  I'm adding this to the blog because this very much affects my writing.  When the pain is flared up, I can hardly concentrate on anything else, and it also makes sitting with my arms extended to the keyboard a form of torture.  Possible reasons put forth for this have been bone spurs in the nerve channel, and arthritic growths pressing on the nerves.  So far, this traction is having the desired effect, and my prognosis is that it will take about two months for this to calm down to a normal state.
          So, on the writing today, I had a scene in which Deputy Jackson discusses his plan to go on a day trip to investigate a possible alibi for Wyatt Earp, who is the prime suspect in a murder.  Earp lived and worked in San Diego after the business in Tombstone, and it is fun working him into the narrative as a background character.  This is my first attempt at something like this, and I hope it comes out well.
          I had to conduct, and greatly enjoyed, a big chunk of research concerning Earp's vendetta ride, the legal ramifications of it, and also his penchant for ice cream.  All are pertinent in this scene, and if all goes well, Chapter 12, which includes it, will be posted for all to read tomorrow.  During this research, I also discovered that I had overlooked the alternate Spanish spelling of Isabella (Ysabela), so I will be contemplating whether to go through the whole manuscript to change every instance.  If I do, it will be during the first proofreading, but I may decide not to.  It's going to be a lot of work, and no one has complained yet!
          So, that's the way it was, Thursday, August 31st, 2017.  Tomorrow, as well as completing Chapter 12, I have to bestow August's Talk of the Flight Deck Award for the best story I reviewed on this past month, write a promotion for Twenty-five Words or Less, and post something on my Goodreads blog; I'm contemplating linking that to this, but we'll see.  Anyway, busy day tomorrow, and I'll see you when I'm done.  Be safe!

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

30 August 2017

          Good morning.  I was up at 7:00 AM today, read my emails, checked Facebook, you know, the usual.  My lovely daughter Sidra had done the dishes for me after I turned in last night, so all I had to do was put them away.  With all that "admin" stuff completed, I settled in to write.  The project I'm working on this week is Stingaree, my San Diego steampunk opus, which can be read in progress by clicking on the link.  My goal for this week is to complete Chapter 12, which will place me at the halfway point, and this morning's writing was a short scene that imparts some less-than-dramatic, but necessary, information to the reader, and it went quite smoothly.  I'm happy with the points presented, though of course words will be polished during post-production.
          My pinched nerve/arm pain is obviously not debilitating this morning, and in about 2 hours, I'll be out in the 100+° heat (38C for our deprived cousins abroad) on the way to physical therapy to have my neck stretched.  Miserable?  Yes.  Worth it?  Absolutely!
          I don't anticipate any other writing today, but rather time with family, and maybe a little "me" time.  Hopefully the rest of the week goes well, and Chapter 12 will be up and ready to read Friday.  I'll see you back here with an update tomorrow.  Meanwhile, Read well, and write better!

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Le Grand Reboot — Again

          This is my first and oldest blog, dating back to March of 2011, and as you might imagine, there has been a lot of water put in the wake over the course of 77 months.  I have changed the focus several times, abandoned it for a while, and it's been different things to different people, but I never deleted it, a fact for which I am thankful, because longevity brings its own sort of class to the dance.
          Nonetheless, my interests and my bases have shifted many times over that 6½ years, and they are about to shift again.  You have seen me trying to resurrect this site over the last few weeks without being able to pin down a theme, if you will, a common direction for followers to rely on this to go in.  I have reblogged articles that other writers have posted, promoted my friends, and rambled about the Craft and the way I apply it.  But the key word here is rambled, and that is a quality I don't believe people want in an author whose work they value.  They want focus.  This is an author's page; they are likely to want information about the author, and his work.  Not that difficult to provide; who, after all, would know better than I?  So, let me bring you up to date.
          Since my unexpected retirement in May of 2016, I have drifted through life doing whatever feels like fun at the moment, and squandering oceans of valuable, irreplaceable time on frivolous pursuits that have gained me nothing as a writer.  I finally managed to step back from the hedonistic play-fest, and evaluate what I want to accomplish in my so-called "Golden Years."  Not surprisingly, writing occupies a huge part of it.  My 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Warner, at Sunset View Elementary School exposed me to the joy of writing to entertain others at the age of 10.  In about five weeks, that will have been 59 years ago, and while dozens of hobbies, pursuits, and interests have come and gone, passing through my life like so many transient acquaintances, the love of writing has never wavered.  It needs to be indulged.
          Last Wednesday, August 23rd, 2017, is the date that I reached this decision.  I determined to make daily progress, and record it so that I can look back and see a steady parade of accomplishments.  Some of you may have noticed that I have a tendency to become discouraged, and retreat into the world of Skyrim or Borderlands.  Being able to access an unbroken chain of meaningful progress may serve to mitigate those feelings, so this blog shall be repurposed as my log of the journey.  Some people may find a chronicle of what a writer goes through to be a crashing bore, and that's all right, I do other things in other places, and I'll provide the links below.  But some select handful may find a writer's journey interesting, maybe fans who want an inside view, maybe other writers who can take comfort in the knowledge that your colleagues face those demons, too.  Whatever your reasons, you're welcome.  I'll try to keep it interesting.
          There are a couple of minor changes to the look that you may have already noticed.  The new fonts have been chosen because they are almost identical to my own handwriting, and that gives it the feel of a personal journal to my own mind.  I don't do well writing in a notebook, and now I won't have to face that slog.  The colors have been retained, dark print on a light background, because studies show that this is easier to read than the way I had it back in the day.  The browns, maroons, and tans are a nod to my fascination with steampunk.
          Ongoing projects are Stingaree, a novel of a steampunk San Diego in the 1880s; The Darklighters, a series that can best be described as a Victorian-era Man From U.N.C.L.E.; and The Nexus Chronicles, a supernatural series about an organization that protects the world from...  You know what, the first story is finished.  Read Possession of Blood and judge for yourself.  This week, my goal is to finish Chapter 12 of Stingaree, which will bring it to the halfway point.  The story so far can be read here.  You'll need to scroll down to the chapters and open each one individually, and comments are, of course, welcome.
          The observant will have noticed that both of those links take you to, where I store my writing projects, and share everything that I have chosen to.  My home page there, which the site calls a "portfolio," is  I also have a FaceBook page, where I'm not terribly active, but you can occasionally find some personal business if you're into that, and more frequently, cool items my friends have posted that I like and share.
          Now, the daily update could be better.  I came to this epiphany at a time when I'm battling a pinched nerve in my neck.  I have excellent health insurance, and am getting excellent care, but it's a process, and sometimes sitting at the keyboard with my arms extended in the typing position can be excruciating, and even when it isn't, there's this dull ache from shoulder to elbow with electric tingling in ring and pinky that never go away, and being creative with this pain is more problematic than I would have imagined.  But things will get done.  I am well known as a planner, and when I can't sit at the keyboard, I can still work on outlines, future plots, character sheets, and all manner of things that support the stories.  For that matter, I sat here to type this, and as you can see, my efforts were successful, so maybe the treatments are making progress in ways I didn't expect.  In any case, I do my writing in the mornings, and after that is completed, I will come here and record my progress.  I don't know yet whether I will succeed in getting this onto a schedule; for now, let's just say sometime between noon and midnight, Pacific Time, daily.
          And that's what you can look for here, my life as a writer.  Those who want to stay for the ride are more than welcome.  To those who don't, I understand.  I've put up links to my other activities, and I'm going to go now and update the sidebar items.  I hope you stay with me, but that's a decision for each individual to make for themselves.  In any case, I hope to be seeing you somewhere!
          Play nice, look out for one another, and I'll see you tomorrow, and every day thereafter.  Be safe!

Thursday, August 24, 2017

To Find the REAL Story, Ignore Your Instincts.

          This essay is reblogged from the Writers Helping Writers blog, an incredibly rich and far-ranging collection of tips and techniques that no author should brave the stormy seas without!  The essay was penned by Emily Ruskovich.  It is part of a larger work that I will link at the end.  If Emily's article is typical, it is very much worth looking into.
 *          *          *

          For me, so much of writing is chasing feelings I don’t understand. Sometimes the feelings mingle with memory, and sometimes they don’t. Paying attention to these feelings, which can arise at any time, is crucial.
          Sometimes, at first, I chase the feeling too fast. I make an easy story out of it, using instincts I have developed as a fiction writer. The story is neat. Its climax is exciting. A great deal is at stake. But usually, this first story is not the real story. It’s just a structure I build quickly in my mind to house the original feeling. And the real story is the one I find only by actively not forming a story out of it, only by actively ignoring my instincts. Instead, I allow images to gather in my imagination in this strange way that is very dif- ficult for me to describe. These images might gather over the course of a day, or over several years. The images feed the feeling until, finally, the feeling is whole enough for me to capture it inside of a scene. And then it happens fast.
          It’s as if fiction is this parallel world that is real and living all the time, and these feelings that authors get are simply tiny collisions of our world and the other. It always feels like an accident to me, when I dip into that other world, because I don’t know the rules of how these worlds overlap, and I can’t sense their orbits.
          This is not a metaphor; this is actually what it feels like when I write. A few days ago, my cat licked a mosquito off a cold window, and immediately I felt the first flicker of a story. Why? I don’t know. A few days before that, my brother and I scooped with an old coffee can a gelatinous sac of bullfrog eggs out of a grassy ditch, and I felt it then, too, as if I’d accidentally scooped into that can a portal to that other world.
          Again, this isn’t a metaphor. It’s actually how it feels. Some images catch hold and linger. They are imbued with irrational meaning. They are the souls of stories I haven’t yet found.
          A few summers ago, walking through a very small town, my mother pointed to an old farmhouse and told me about a relative of hers who once lived there. When he was a baby, his father put him out on the porch in the winter, hoping the baby would freeze to death. The story made me very sad for my relative, and angry at the cruelty of his father. I began to imagine that someone walking by the house looked in and saw the baby on the frozen porch, and I imagined the stranger breaking the window with a rock, climbing in, and rescuing the child.
          This was the first story, the easy one, partly because it was so close to the real story, and  partly because the emotions were exact – sadness for the baby boy, fury and disgust for the father, love for the stranger. It was compelling, and it made me feel.
          But it was not the real story. The real story began to rise in me the farther we walked away from that house, talking about other things. If the light that afternoon had been a little different, if the dust hadn’t tasted in the air the way it did, if we had stopped for a cup of coffee or even just to tie a shoe – it’s likely the story would have stopped at its own trueness. But as it was, it grew. Suddenly, I saw the porch in my mind, and it was completely different from the real porch, the one I’d seen just minutes ago. And locked inside of it was not my relative, but a little girl I’d never known, ten years old with dirty-blonde hair and a bright and cruel face, a tight, twitching mouth.
          She was standing in the middle of that porch that was built out of windows. This was her punishment for something (what?) terrible that she had done, to stand out here in the cold, locked out of the house and also out of the out-of-doors, in the frozen in-between space that was the covered porch. The windows were framed with frost. The locked door behind her was blue. I saw the stale, wicker chair beside her. I could smell its frozen cushion. On the ground, a cup of water, as if her father could assuage his guilt by reminding himself he had given her that. The girl wore a dress. She could have put on her coat, which was wadded up beneath that wicker chair, but she did not, though her bare arms were covered in goosebumps. She stood perfectly straight in the middle of the porch. And what she was wasn’t sad – she was wildly glad. She relished her own hunger; she devoured that cold. Her breath was bright and beautiful and scary.
          And, suddenly, it wasn’t her father who had put her there but her older brother, a teenager, fed up and hardworking and in charge, much older than his sister but not half as smart. Inside, he is secretly pained by having locked his little sister on the winter porch to punish her. He feels tired and guilty and half-panicked at what he’s done and what he can’t quite decide to undo, though it would be the simplest thing in the world, to just unlock that door and let her win. He’s looking through the curtain of a different window, seeing the passersby, his neighbors, glance at his poor sister, locked out
in the cold, and he is punished by their glances, by their shame of him.
          And suddenly, it’s not the girl who is being punished by her brother, and it’s not her brother who is being punished by the glances of the passersby; it is the passersby themselves who are being punished by the girl. They glance up at those windows and see her staring out at them, see her gathering the pity from their eyes until what’s left in them is only their own shame, as if they, somehow, are to blame for the abuse she is enduring so bravely, in total silence, in total stillness, hands clasped elegantly in front of her. And they know that she is making a display of herself, but they are wrong about why: They think she stands that way, in pained grace, because she is trying to preserve her dignity. They think she wants to appear to the world as strong and brave for their sakes. And such striving makes her even more pitiable in their eyes, her stern innocence a terrible shock in the winter light. Should they go knock on the door? Chastise whomever has done this to her? Should they call the police? Should they spare the girl by pretending they haven’t seen and just hope, pray, that it will end soon for her? It is terrible, the indecision and the shame.
          The girl knows all this, of course, and doesn’t mind the cold because of what she knows. She is glad for this singular chance to stand in this perfect glass case, like a museum display, and exhibit to the world the stupidity of her brother and the culmination of all the injustices inflicted upon her beautiful self.
          And she triumphs; to the passersby, the girl becomes more than herself, a feeling they carry into their own warm houses. For some of them, she is a memory of having long ago endured pain inflicted by adults; for others, she is the memory of having just yesterday inflicted that pain upon a child. She is guilt; she is blame. She is a trapped and frozen breath that chills her brother to his core and lasts in him forever.
          All of this is only an instant, something I felt over the course of a single summer walk beside my mom. And yet this instant has stayed inside of me for two years now, and nothing has ever come of it except this essay, an answer to a question: What is writing like?
          Maybe there is nothing more to this story. Maybe this is it.
          Or maybe one day she’ll wake up inside of me, suddenly furious to discover that she has been used as an example. I will be there on the sidewalk, and she will look out, and I will see her blame me for what I’ve done to her story, for my cold exploitation of her pain. Suddenly, she will look down at the floor, where the cup of water has frozen solid after all this time. And she will bend down, bang that cup against the floorboards until that cylinder of ice slides out. Then she will pick the ice up, wrap it in the coat she removes from beneath that wicker chair, and bang it against every window, breaking them all.
          Then, like fiction itself, she’ll climb out, down into her yard, face me for an instant, and turn away.

*          *          *

          Emily Ruskovich’s piece is part of The Compact Guide To Short Story Writing, which features 14 essays on the craft of short story writing. The guide explores crafting killer beginnings and endings, idea formation, character development and more all via the relatively small number of pages a short story is limited to—indeed, a unique challenge but also an opportunity to take some interesting storytelling risks. Whether you write short stories, novels, screenplays, picture books, or any other form of narrative writing, this guide is a goldmine of helpful gems.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Short and Occasionally Sweet

          "Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what was seen during a moment."
                         ~ CARL SANDBURG

          Lest you think I'm setting you up for a pulp fiction shoot-'em-up author's condescending drone on the shortcomings of poetry, let me assure you I am not!  Quite the contrary.  I am a member of a little on-line arthouse where folks get together to share our attempts to wax profound in 25 words or less.  That is, in fact, the name of the group, and while you have to be a member of to participate, it is open for anyone who would care to drop in and sample the wares.
          Consider this your invitation.  Here's the link.  Drop in for a read, and if you feel inspired to try your hand, there is a free membership in to be had for the asking, which will open the door to your contributions.  But, writer or reader, we'd love to welcome you.  Come by and see a side of the Blimprider that isn't often displayed.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

Vampires in the Big Easy

          Those in the New Orleans area this coming Wednesday have an opportunity to meet David Lee Summers, a well-regarded author in many genres.  He'll be signing books at...  Well, all the scuttlebutt is in his very informative post that came in this morning.  This guy has the Blimprider Seal of Approval, so don't miss it if you can!  And if you must, you can keep up with David's busy writing life at

*          *          *

          I am on the road this weekend. I just participated in a fabulous book signing for Straight Outta Tombstone at the Barnes and Noble in Glendale, Colorado. My next stop is New Orleans, Louisiana where I’ll be researching some of the locations in my next steampunk novel, Owl Riders. I’ll also be at Boutique du Vampyre on Wednesday, August 23 from 3 to 6pm to sign copies of my vampire novels and Straight Outta Tombstone.
           My vampire novels tell the story of the Scarlet Order, a band of vampire mercenaries who fight evil. The first novel, Dragon’s Fall: Rise of the Scarlet Order tells the story of the Scarlet Order’s origin during the middle ages, their role in the grail quest and their encounter with the human prince known as Vlad the Impaler. The second novel Vampires of the Scarlet Order carries their story to the present day where they must stop a top secret project to create vampire-like super soldiers.
          My story in Straight Outta Tombstone features the Scarlet Order vampires as they would be if they existed in my Clockwork Legion universe. It’s a fun, twisted crossover that celebrates one of the first vampire stories, Carmilla, and imagines an alternate explanation to the real life Albert Fountain disappearance. Who was Albert Fountain you ask? He was Billy the Kid’s defense attorney and his empty grave is behind my home in Las Cruces, New Mexico.
          Boutique du Vampyre is a terrific shop in New Orleans’ French Quarter. They have an assortment of vampire themed gifts including apparel and accessories, dolls, jewelry, and wine. They’ll even help you create a great New Orleans vampire adventure. Come hang out with us at Boutique du Vampyre this coming Wednesday, chat for a while, and find some great gifts!
The boutique is located at 709 1/2 St. Ann Street. Call 504-561-8267 for more information, or RSVP for the signing at the event’s Facebook page: Even if you can’t make the signing, you can get my vampire books from the Boutique by visiting

Friday, August 18, 2017

Old Friends, New Books, and a Big Ol' Party!

          Arriving on my feed this morning was Karen Carlisle's photoblog about her book launch at the Steampunk Festival in Port Adelaide, Australia.  There are many pictures, and as I don't want to change the focus or presentation during a transfer, I'm simply going to provide the link.  Please take the time to follow it for a look into this wonderful community of enthusiasts.  You won't be sorry!

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Free Books!

           Opened my feed this morning to find this just in from the very active William J. Jackson.  Not much to say here.  Go survey the field and commence your harvest!
*          *          *

          Howdy. I am again taking part in a free ebook giveaway involving Instafreebie, and set up by talented indie author Dean Wilson. Looking for a grwat science fiction or fantasy read at no cost? Start here.
          I offer up a preview of my steampunk junior novel The Blossom of Hours. Give it, and many more titles, a try. Click the link and explore!

Monday, August 14, 2017

The Weird Western Showdown

          Found this simmering on my feed this morning, fresh off the page from the website of David Lee Summers.  I've had the pleasure of seeing this gentleman on a panel.  He is not to be missed if you're in the area!
*          *          *
          This Saturday, I’ll join bestselling authors Jim Butcher, Kevin J. Anderson, Sarah A. Hoyt, Peter J. Wacks, Bryan Thomas Schmidt, Naomi Brett Rourke, Sam Knight and editor David Boop to discuss the genesis of the anthology Straight Outta Tombstone, reminisce about our careers, and sign our books.
          In my story Fountains of Blood, Billy and Larissa from the Clockwork Legion series tangle with Marcella and Rosen from the Scarlet Order vampire series while caught up in the historical Albert Fountain disappearance.   I’m not the only author revisiting familiar characters.   Jim Butcher reveals the origin of one of the Dresden Files’ most popular characters in A Fistful of Warlocks.  And Kevin J. Anderson’s Dan Shamble, Zombie P.I., finds himself in a showdown in High Midnight.  Plus there are stories from Larry Correia, Alan Dean Foster, Jody Lynn Nye, Michael A. Stackpole, Phil Foglio, Robert E. Vardeman and many more.  Readers in Las Cruces and Tucson might even find copies I’ve signed at their local Barnes and Noble stores.
          Lots of fun and a few surprises at this event!  Mosey on down and celebrate this amazing anthology!

Here are the details:
August 18th, 7pm
Barnes and Noble
960 S Colorado Blvd
Glendale, CO 80246
Call for more information, 303-691-2998 or
RVSP on Facebook at

Sunday, August 13, 2017


          "Find a crew... find a job... keep flying!"
                                   ~ Box Tagline

          Pretty much everyone alive who I know is aware of Joss Whedon's series Firefly, sabotaged by its network after one partial season.  Fewer are aware of Gale Force Nine Games' Firefly: The Game.  We played a session today, my wife, my daughter, and I, and a great time was had by all.
          The Firefly game is based directly on the short-lived series by the Master, and is as true to the source material as any follow-on media I've ever seen.  I chose to show the back of the box below, as its photograph shows the game all set up and ready to play.  It consists of the map of the area of space where Firefly takes place, multiple card decks that represent items you can buy on supply worlds such as Silverhold and Persephone, and jobs you can get from such personages as Badger, Patience, and Niska.  Up to four can play, each captain taking a Firefly class transport represented by die-cast plastic models, and cruising around space looking to hire crew, pick up jobs, and complete them for cash.  Cruising the black can be a dangerous proposition, and two decks of cards are included to produce chance encounters in Alliance Space, and out in Border Space, away from the central star.  Yet another deck controls the "misbehavin'" it is necessary to do to complete some of the riskier, but higher paying jobs.
          This is the back of the box, shown large to clearly include everything in a legible fashion.  What it doesn't show is the Blue Sun expansion that we include in our games which adds another board half the size of the one you see to the left side of the map with Meridian, Mr. Universe's station, and Miranda with its dangerous reavers and their attendant mysteries, plus more card decks to support them.  By the time you include space for discards, money, and marker tokens, this game has the largest footprint I've ever seen, with the sole exception of Avalon Hill's The Longest Day, a battalion-level simulation of the Normandy Invasion.  This ain't no joke!  To play this with enough space to be comfortable, we have to rearrange our living room.  It's worth it!  This is the expanded board:

          Shown here are a few sample character cards.  You can see how each character, and they are all people seen in the show or the Serenity movie, brings certain skills and talents to the captain who hires him or her.

          Skills can be enhanced by purchasing gear at the various spaceports one visits, and with crew in hand, and all the fine equipment you can cram into the hold, its time to go looking for work.

          You visit the various nefarious characters around the rim, and evaluate what work they have to offer.  You look to see what the job requires, and choose jobs whose requirements can be met by the skills of your crew.  Legal jobs are usually straightforward fetch-and-carry affairs, but illegal and/or immoral jobs require some "misbehavin'," usually accomplished through a series of die rolls modified by the skills you possess in order to succeed, and the consequences of failure can be grim.

          We like to play the scenario that is most like the show, the simple effort to accumulate cash.  I played Womack, the vicious renegade Fed from the episode The Message, where the old war buddy was smuggling organs inside his own body.  My ship was the Bonnie Mae, which seems fitting, as my wife is Bonnie Gay.  I started in Osiris, just inside Alliance Space, and was able to add Simon Tam to my crew.  He is very intelligent, has two "wrenches" on his card signifying mechanical expertise, and is far and away the best medic in the game.  He is also a wanted fugitive, which made me an outlaw ship and in trouble with the Alliance right off the bat.  You can avoid the Alliance by going "a little farther out," like Mal used to say, but as you leave the Alliance's area of influence, you become more likely to be targeted by reavers, and they don't care whether your papers are in order or not; they're just as happy to eat them,  too!  None of this was helped by the fact that, stopping in for resupply at another planet, I picked up Simon's sister, River.  Womack is the kind of guy who would turn them in at the drop of a hat, but both characters add so much to your skill set (although River's bonuses are randomized on each attempted use) that even a crud like Womack might keep them around.  I sure did, and they were indeed useful.
          I began by doing a couple of legal jobs while tiptoeing around the Alliance's patrol cruiser to pick up some modest but safe working capital.  I delivered three crates of rocks across the breadth of Alliance Space whose weight cost me twice the fuel consumption per burn, then when I got out there to deliver it, I picked up two tons of manure from Patience to deliver to an agricultural planet.  These trips caused me to transit the edges of Alliance Space, and I was accosted by the cruiser patrol on several occasions.  Once I ditched him by deploying the Cry Baby, but I didn't have another one, and he soon returned to his sniffing around...  Thanks, daughter!  Eventually, he discovered River in one of my smuggling bins, and they dragged her off in irons.  Surprisingly, Simon didn't freak out on me, but that's how the game works.  Once I stepped up to doing some misbehavin', I would occasionally slip up, and get a warrant issued.  This makes you even more attractive to the Alliance, and once they catch you, you have to pay your fine of $1,000 per warrant to go your way.  Bonnie got caught repeatedly with something out of order, once with two warrants, and she eventually finished the game with $600 after starting with $3,000.
          I had a run of jobs to do, but running into difficulty on my misbehavin' cost me some warrants, and thus some money, and I finished with $4,200, a modest profit.  Daughter cleaned house after a rough start.  Movement is handled as follows:  You can always move one space without drawing any chance encounter cards.  To move more, usually five, you have to burn a fuel token, which cost money to replace.  As you start moving, you draw cards, and for the first few turns, she would pay the fuel, start to move, and immediately get jumped by the patrol, which even if it doesn't harm you, brings you to a halt, and you forfeit the rest of your turn while they search you from keel to masthead.  Eventually, she was able to gather a few lucrative jobs in a localized area, and rather quickly amassed over $14,000, with $12,000 needed to win.  Luck, as you can see, plays a role, but with several hundred cards in the game, it balances out.  It was in for her this game, but in all likelihood, it will be in someone else's corner next time we play.
          The downside of this game is that there is very little interaction possible.  If I see you about to win, there is precious little I can do about it.  I can try to beat you to a location and swipe a job out from under your nose, but as a rule, I'm trying to make my own money, not interfere with yours.  If you have a "disgruntled" crew member, I can steal him from you by moving into your space and paying his hire price, but the only way I can really, seriously harm you is to move through space out on the rim hoping to draw that magic card that will set the reavers on you, but the odds of me drawing something that will harm me instead are about ten times greater than getting the one that will bite you.  What this means is that this is a great solitaire game.  You don't need other players, you can just go to various planets, hiring crew and taking jobs, until you reach the dollar figure to win, the reavers eat you, or the Alliance bankrupts you.  There are also other scenarios that are based on goals other than money, so there are many ways to approach it.
          The bottom line is that we had a great time, and if you like games, this one has a fascinating combination of mechanics that weave a convoluted tale of conflicting strategies.  If you like Firefly, the show, this game puts you in it, with all the personalities, locations, gadgets, and capers from the series, as well as many, many more that capture the flavor exquisitely.  Finally, if you are a solo gamer, this one is made with you in mind.  No matter the number of players, you'll be living on the black, misbehavin', and keeping it shiny all the day long.  Join the crew, or build your own, and get in on the action.  It's a wonderful way for your local group of Browncoats to spend an afternoon!

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Spotlight on a Friend

          Veteran followers will be familiar with my good friend Sarah Zama, the Italian author who writes American alternate roaring '20s history.  Over the past couple of years, Sarah and I have discovered that we have very different views on a number of aspects of writing, but aren't those the best friends, the ones who challenge your comfortable beliefs rather than just parroting what you already think back at you?  I certainly think so.
          Her current work is a novella, Give in to the Feeling, which contains some of the characters from her larger trilogy, The Old Shelter.  I have read the novella, and was quite taken with the characters and situations.  It is a perfect appetizer to make you want to read the trilogy, which concerns shady goings-on in and around a haunted speakeasy.  I hate the phrase I can't wait, because you are going to wait, and if you don't die while you're waiting, it gives irrefutable proof that in fact you can wait.  I'll just say that I'm very much looking forward to the trilogy.  It has been in the works for a long time; I can only wish I had this woman's patience.  What I bring before you now is an interview with Sarah Zama, conducted by author C.P. Lesley.  This is one of the best interviews I've seen in a while, and is a great opportunity to get to know this most excellent writer.  Consider this your chance to get in on the ground floor, as it were.  Give in to the feeling, and discover this future star for yourself!

Friday, August 11, 2017

Vision in the Free Market

     " boldly go where no man has gone before."
                              ~ Gene Roddenberry

          Back in the early 1960s, a reasonably competent writer of westerns and police dramas developed and began to pitch the story of a starship and its crew visiting various planets and having adventures along the way.  This, of course, went on to become Star Trek, the queen mother of all franchises.  It ran from the fall of 1966 to the summer of 1969, and coincided almost perfectly with my time in the navy, time that I was sent to explore some of the most godawful hell-holes the planet has to offer, and all of them showing ten-year old TV, if they had TV at all.  I never saw a single episode in its first run.
          But I escaped, the show went into syndication, and it was a match made in heaven.  Star Trek was the vehicle that showed this budding author that all the space aliens didn't have to be bug-eyed monsters from Mars.  Some of them could be us!  I seized on that concept and wrote Star Trek stories for decades.  Oh, it wasn't fan fiction.  I created my own worlds, ships, and characters, but it was Star Trek, and there isn't a fan anywhere that wouldn't have recognized the inspiration.
          I've come a long way since those heady days when I was going to be the next Big Celebrity Author, and Roddenberry's influence is hardly visible in my steampunk sagas, but that show had a profound influence on me, and on society.  See, the other thing that captured my imagination was the gadgetry.  From tricorders to communicators to diagnostic hospital beds, not to mention those near-sentient talking computers, I wanted more than life itself to live in that world with all those things to make me smarter, healthier, and more effective.  I hate to admit it, but I was deeply jealous of nonexistent characters who lived in a fictional universe.
          Apparently, I wasn't alone.  Fast forward half a century to the here and now, and we live in a world with many of those things in existence around us.  Talking computers that can hold a conversation and carry out your orders, search engines that can deliver the accumulated knowledge of mankind to the comfort of your living room in a fraction of a second, and look at the fabulous tools your doctor has at his disposal.  Oh, and while we're at it, consider those hand-held computers we still nostalgically call "phones."  Would all of those things have come to pass without Star Trek?  Probably, but would they have come in our lifetimes?  That's harder to say, but Roddenberry put them on a screen in every living room, and people took notice, smart people who set about making them reality.
          But here's the thing.  Now that much of this world exists around us, I'm not interested in participating.  My grandkids think I'm a hidebound old dinosaur.  So, maybe I am, but I have long suspected that it goes deeper than that, and I had the epiphany about it just this morning.  There are two factors.
          First is the price.  Long have these electronics been priced out of my reach, and as I type that sentence, I see the fallacy of it.  I've seen, hell, I've known people who live in slums, drive old jalopies that a bum wouldn't sleep in, can't afford to fix a broken window in their house, but they'll bust out these phones at the drop of a hat, and start watching videos and texting some cousin three countries away.  They've sacrificed some things to have what's important to them.  So have I; I've sacrificed the phone.  I have a phone that looks like one of those "smart phones," I think they call them.  I can text, talk, and take pictures.  That's more than I need, as I rarely take pictures with it, but the feature exists on the phone, so I have to count it.  My "plan" costs $8 per month.  I could turn this phone into a device I would actually need if I was a personal assistant to the president, but my monthly bill would go up to an amount that would finance a late-model used car; you can just imagine the daily needling I get from my provider urging me to upgrade to a plan that no functional human being can possibly live without.  Sorry, that's their opinion, not mine.
          And then there's the other thing.  When Captain Kirk opened his communicator in 1969's Turnabout Intruder, it worked exactly the same way it had in 1966's Mantrap.  Same with Spock's tricorder, McCoy's diagnostic beds, and Scotty's engines and transporters.  And that's my other reason for staying out of it:  Compatibility and stability.  There is never any of this bullshirt about "our network doesn't support your device."  This morning, it took me 45 minutes to do a three-minute job because of this.  I was posting a book promotion on my What To Read Next page.  The text went up fine, but I couldn't post the picture of the book cover; Blogger didn't like the source material.  Don't know why, it didn't even offer me any of the computer jargon that humans can't understand by way of explanation, it just wouldn't transfer.  After several reboots that failed to correct the problem, I finally solved it by moving the picture from page to page to page until I found one that Blogger recognized, and copied it by dragging-and-dropping.  I still don't know why, but I know how to fix it...  This time!
          So maybe stability is really a third separate issue.  Let's say for a moment that it's important to me to have the latest cutting-edge phone, laptop, tablet, modem, wifi, router, integrated talking television with satellite feed, a security system to watch my house while I'm away (like I could afford to go anywhere after I buy all this stuff!), and a dozen other things I don't even know about.  So I move into lesser digs in a crappy neighborhood, trade in my car for something rattier, and abandon the concept of nice clothes and decent food so I can go out and get those things.  Hardly seems worth doing, since I know that by the time I get them home and take them out of the box, they're going to be obsolete, and the very people that sold them to me are going to be offering 10c on the dollar if I trade up to the new latest and greatest.
          So, no thanks, Star Trek.  It's a beautiful world you've created, but I'll just stay firmly rooted in the stone age for now.  Maybe when I'm reincarnated a century in the future, this will all be worked out and stable, but as long as competition trumps compatibility, I'm out.  If anyone wants to discuss this, you can contact me the old fashioned way, text, Email, or right here in the comment section.  Have a great day, and enjoy your toys!

Thursday, August 10, 2017

And Now a Word from My Ego

          Today I'm doing something completely different.  As a little mid-week treat, to stroke my own ego, and because I don't want to lose this, I'm posting verbatim what is almost certainly my favorite review of all time.  I don't want to insult people that I know and converse with daily, but when it comes to content, nothing has yet beaten this.  It appeared on the now-defunct review site Good, Bad, Bizarre on May 13th, 2014.  What makes it so great from my point of view is the fact that the reviewer, H.C. Dallas, doesn't like steampunk!  Or at least she didn't until she read mine.  It's a rare and wonderful thing for a writer to be able to change someone's long-held opinion about an entire genre, and I was on top of the world when I read this.  To this day, when I get down on myself for not being the writer I am in my fantasies, I come back and read this, and I am on top of the world again.
          I don't know why you've stopped reviewing, H.C.  I hope it's nothing more sinister than personal preference, but should you chance to read this, know that you touched a life, and more than once have kept a writer writing.  You have my eternal gratitude and best wishes for a long and happy life.
          So with no further waffling, I present Good, Bad, Bizarre's take on Beyond the Rails.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

          Today we have a review for a genre that we have been avoiding until now:  Steampunk.  Why have we avoided it?  Well, a couple of bad experiences with the genre, via books that we will not name, had previously soured us to Steampunk in all its forms.  One book was so awful -- a mishmash of Sci-Fi, Victorian history, and (surprise!) magic -- that we could not even finish it.  We were hurled from one setting to another, had technology and then magic shoved in our faces, and when the talking lobsters appeared… well, we just threw in the towel (and, if you read any of our other reviews, you will know that this is quite unusual -- usually we love the strange and bizarre, but in this case it did not love us back).  If this is Steampunk, we thought, then clearly it’s overrated.  We have not picked up another Steampunk book… until this day.
          That’s why we’re glad that we had the chance to review this book.  Because, before now, we quite literally did not know what we were missing.  It just goes to show that when you give something a second chance, it can surprise you.  So let’s take a look into things, shall we?


Title: Beyond the Rails
Author: Jack Tyler
Genres: Steampunk, Action & Adventure, Western-ish
          The book is comprised of several adventures -- more like short stories -- which center on the plucky crew of an “airship” -- that is, a dirigible.  It takes place in the 1880s (according to the preface) in a region of Kenya, Africa, which is being colonized by the British.  The railroads in the area only reach a certain distance into the African frontier; after that, everything is “beyond the rails,” and only accessible by air.  That’s where our crew and their airship come in, for they have the one thing that everyone needs: mobility.  This means that they need to be ready for anything -- and everything -- that they can encounter, both inside civilization and out.
          The book starts out with a sequence of interrelated short stories, which read very much like classic “penny dreadful” or adventure tales, complete with dastardly villains who receive their comeuppance by Our Heroes by the end.  Each story also serves the purpose of letting us get to know a member of the crew a little better, as we get to see them act alone and interact together.  By the end, the book changes gears and moves into a connected narrative, with each chapter starting to add to a larger plot.  Unfortunately that plot ends in mid-swing -- but the fortunate thing about this is that this also means that there is more to come in future installments.
          Throughout the book, we were struck by the author’s writing.  It does a wonderful job of relating the stories in what we would describe as a “verisimilitude” way -- that is, it does feel as though these people are from the late nineteenth century, with their mannerisms, niceties, and ways of looking at the world.  It also flows wonderfully, providing ample description, and has mastered the ability to both trust the reader’s judgment -- there’s a lot of subtlety in these pages -- while still providing ample amounts of description and oddities for our brains to gnaw on.


1) Vibes: Rudyard Kipling, Indiana Jones, and Cowboys & Indians
          Not having had much experience with Steampunk, we can’t rightfully say if most of the genre features these sorts of things or not; but right away, the moment the story begins, we found ourselves having a “Western Adventure” kind of vibe.  Instead of the American southwest, it was the African frontier.  Instead of Cowboys and Indians, it was the Airship Crew and the Africans.  Each chapter was a complete story of its own, so we kept experiencing new adventures with every turn of the page.  There was a rough-and-tumble, get-yer-guns-ready, we’re-riding-(flying)-into-town sort of feeling in these tales, and we enjoyed the blend of safari story and Wild West.
          Whether or not this is common to Steampunk, we can say one thing about the presence of Western-style genre within this book: it was awesome.  Setting the tale in Africa added so many layers and so much room for adventure; it was quite the brilliant move.  Add to this the fact that most of the characters were not American (there is one person from the USA), then it also becomes a British Cowboy story.  Throw in some colonialist themes and there’s Rudyard Kipling waiting in the background, too.  Add a dash (a small dash) of magic, and bigger countries’ struggles (English and Prussian strain), and suddenly Indiana Jones is dancing around.  In short, anyone who loves the old-fashioned adventure tale will love this book.
2) Great cast
          The cast of characters was very flavorful and unique.  Each character both embodied a stereotype and possessed his own unique flair, which really allowed us to picture them in our mind.  The Captain of the airship, Clinton Monroe, is a no-nonsense man of action, and takes good care of his crew like a father-figure.  David Smith, the American cowboy, has found a home-away-from-home in Africa’s savanna.  Doctor Nicholas Ellsworth is a prissy, highly educated, somewhat out of his element newcomer to the crew, and despite his rough patches still has a good heart.  And there are others, too (Of course, our favorite has to be Patience Hobbs, who we will discuss below.)
          The thing about each of these characters is that we’re given time to spend with each of them.  They are each given a portion of the story to themselves, and we get to follow them around, get a feel for them as individuals, and see a little about what makes them tick.  This is a wonderful way to become invested in their fates throughout the story.  We really liked how different they all were, and yet how they all functioned together as a single unit: the intrepid crew of the airship Kestrel.
3) Portrayal of women
          Right from the start, this story makes no bones about it: Patience Hobbs is a frontier woman, and such women don’t scare easily.  She comes from fine breeding and had a high education in England, but truth be told she’s now working with the boys and can keep up with them easily.  Patience forms one of the core characters in the narrative.  She is the airship pilot, and this is only one of her formidable list of skills.  She steers the ship through crises.  She kicks the butt of an assassin.  In short, she rocks.  She’s not the only woman here, either.  There are others of equal importance, skill, and complexity.
          The thing we enjoyed the most, however, was that these women were both strong… and feminine.  This is not a story of a woman who had to give up being female in order to be taken seriously.  Patience is allowed to show a softer, more feminine side: she sticks up for those who need a helping hand (like Ellsworth), and she in general acts more like a tough woman than a man’s man, and nobody holds this against her or thinks that she’s below them because of it.  Another character, Cynthia Blackwell, also travels from being weak and dependent into a fuller, able-bodied individual, and she also does not lose touch with femininity.
          Oh, and did we mention this book passes the Bechdel Test?  By our estimation, Patience Hobbs and another female character, Cynthia Blackwell, have an entire conversation about airship flight, what it means to travel, and how this is affecting them, personally.  And they only mention “boys” in an abstract sense, just once, and it relates more toward describing their own feelings, personalities, and character arcs.  How awesome is that?
4) Saves the magic… until later
          One thing we first thought about this story was that it took its time.  Aside from the presence of the dirigible, at first it read nothing like a Steampunk story at all.  It was taking place in the late 1800s, to be sure, but plenty of stories take place at that time without being Steampunk.  We kept reading page after page, feeling quite at home, getting to know the characters, cheering the Heroes and booing the Villains.  It was all good fun, through-and-through… with one exception, which was caused entirely by us and our own attitude.
          You see, we were subconsciously dreading and waiting for when the talking lobsters would appear.  Given our previous exposure to this genre, we were worried that things would take a sudden left turn and leave us stranded, wondering, confused by the sudden influx of unfamiliar tropes and obscure clichés that would make our head spin.  After all, this was Steampunk, and in our case we were “once bitten and twice shy.”  Surely there would be talking lobsters, yes?
          But that terrible moment never came to pass.  Instead, the book handled the eventual introduction of magic and super-science with a great deal of finesse and subtlety.  By the time the first hints of magic appeared on the page, we were so engrossed with the characters that we were not confused by it -- in fact, if anything, we were thrilled.  It made sense, given the context of everything that had happened previously, and it added new flavor to the story.  The characters who encountered it had normal human reactions -- “Holy carpets! Real magic!” -- and didn’t just shrug it off like no big deal.  Once it arrived, it also didn’t take over the story, instead remaining exactly where it should be: in the periphery, so that we could continue to focus on the characters.  Just like how Indiana Jones can have the Ark of the Covenant raining Holy Fire onto the Nazi heathens, so also could witch doctors in the savanna have magic at their beck and call.  Makes sense, no?
          It is about one half of the way through the book before magic is brought into the picture.  And super-science -- or at least its 1800’s equivalent -- only appeared about three-fourths of the way into the book.  We suppose that the sequel would have these things in much larger proportions, but truth is we wouldn’t mind that very much.  We were permitted to learn the characters and the normal world’s customs before we went running off into the great wild unknown of sorcery and science, which is good enough for us.
5) World building
          Given everything that we just said above, we would also like to take a brief moment to mention the verisimilitude and “feel” of the book.  We don’t know how accurate these stories are to real life with dirigibles on the African frontier in the late-nineteenth century.  In fact, although we’re fairly sure that there were no blimps in Africa at the time (were there?), we can’t say for certain that there weren’t.  We only know what feels real and what doesn’t, and this book definitely falls into the former category.
          We truly felt as though we were adventuring on a blimp in sub-Saharan Africa.  We felt the heat.  We met the people.  We thrilled at the danger.  We listened to the people speaking in other languages.  We concerned ourselves over the impact of a far-off European war on this growing colony and the people there.  And, if we ever read a history textbook on the time period and learn that there were no dirigibles in Kenya, we will be sorely disappointed.


1) Incomplete ending
          Despite all the awesomeness in this book, it does end on an unfinished note.  Again, some people will like this, and we (kind of) can’t begrudge it, because it means that there will definitely be more stories in the future.  All the same, we like when a book ends with a completed plot, not halfway through the major arc of the next book.  It sounds good and it ends on an intriguing note, but a cliffhanger is still a cliffhanger.  Arg!  We’re not rock climbers, so we’ve got to mention this. :(
2) Character blitz
          Now, in this case it was a lesser form of character blitz.  The story does a good job of delegating each character’s role when they are first introduced -- one is the captain, one is the pilot, another is the customer, one is the engineer, etc -- and it also does a good job of focusing on only a couple important characters in each chapter of the book (remember, as we said above, each chapter helps flesh out one of the airship’s crewmen).  Still, when they were first introduced, we had a little trouble telling them apart.  Only a few more pages into the story, this was solved (mostly by ignoring the characters who hadn’t been fully introduced yet).  But we still had that initial moment of confusion.  It’s a credit that the confusion only lasted so long, though.


1) Dirigibles… er, we mean blimps… uh, actually make that “airships”
          The story concerns a lot of dirigibles, as one can guess (hey, the title is “Beyond the Rails,” and only dirigibles -- or “airships” -- can really travel that far).  The characters actually go into detail explaining how these massive contraptions work, which is awesome.  A large part of the plot concerns them and how they fly, the mechanics of how travel like this affects the characters, and so forth.  This must have been the result of a lot of research and it was fascinating for us, given that blimps aren’t really things that we know (or think) that much about.  We’re definitely noticing the Goodyear blimp next time it hovers around our house.


This book is GOOD.
          We have to say, this book single-handedly convinced us to reconsider our dislike of Steampunk.  This is a feat all by itself.  And with that, we can’t say that it’s anything but Good, even though it has plenty of Bizarreness everywhere -- which, of course, just adds flavor to the whole shebang.
          This book would satisfy a whole range of people, so we’re just going to list the two most important below:
          First, those who are fans of Steampunk -- which is a no-brainer -- but also those who would like to give Steampunk a try.  As we said before, we personally are unfamiliar with this genre and had, in fact, originally sworn off it because of a bad experience.  Now we think that perhaps the problem was that we had been introduced too quickly to something that was too deep inside the genre’s tropes -- kind of like throwing The Watchmen at someone who has never read graphic novels before -- and as a result were just left dazed and confused.  By contrast, this book does an excellent job of introducing the reader more slowly into the world of the Steampunk genre, making for a much smoother reading experience for those who have doubts.  So, Steampunk virgins, this one’s for you!
          And second, those who are fans of the good ol’ adventure story.  It’s very much like a Robert Louis Stevenson or Rudyard Kipling tale.  If you enjoy intrepid explorers braving the unknown, then that is exactly what we have here.  It’s a swashbuckling, “let’s go see what’s out there” sort of tale, and boy, it brought back memories of reading the good old stuff.
          Of course, we would also recommend this to fans of Westerns -- we’re seriously not kidding about that whole “frontier” vibe -- and to those who like reading about strong heroines who are not unfeminized (that’s us!), and even to children ages 12 and up (If they’ve read Treasure Island or The Jungle Book, this should be on their list.).  Basically, anybody who just wants to enjoy a rousing old-fashioned adventurer’s tale, look no further because it’s here.
          And, best news of all, according to the author’s blog, he’s also already hard at work on the sequel, and has the eighth “short story / next chapter” posted online as a free sample. We hope this means that it will be done soon, so we can continue the adventure.  In a single book we’ve gone from hating Steampunk to giving it a second chance, so we have big expectations for the upcoming sequel.

          Not hard to see why this review is one of my prized possessions as a writer!  If you haven't encountered Beyond the Rails, and would like to see what turned this reviewer's head, the first story, The Botanist, detailing Nicholas Ellsworth's arrival in Kenya and his introduction to the crew, is available in its entirety as a free sample.  Just click the tab at the top of the left sidebar.
          To visit my other blog where I give a weekly monologue about my take on punk fiction and writing in general, click on -- I'll do my very best to keep it interesting, informative, and entertaining, so drop in and sample my wares...  I double-dog dare you! 

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Cerulean Rust

          Here's the latest on William Jackson's Rail Legacy series: 

          Yep, Cerulean Rust, the second Rail Legacy book, has dropped to 99c.  Wait, who puts the second book on sale, you ask?  I do.
          But what about the first one?
          You mean An Unsubstantiated Chamber, the gothic steampunk superhero mashup mystery, that old thing?  Well, here’s a secret.  If you don’t mind ebooks, it’s FREE.
          Everyday.  Around the clock.  No joshing.
          Go here and get a copy:
          Then, go to Amazon, and BUY Rust for pennies on the dollar.
          Get both for under a dollar, kindly read them.  Feel free to tell me what you think at, and please leave honest reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.
          Know your alternate history, and explore new yesterdays...

          Then explore William's author page at  Get to know a talented author in his natural habitat!

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Celebrating Self

          As a Father's Day gift in 2016, my daughter did a DNA kit on me, and while my family always told me I was predominantly Viking (i.e., Scandanavian), those pesky little protein strings show me to be 38% Irish, 35% Scandinavian, 17% British, and 10% trace elements from three continents. includes a map of the world showing the source of all your genetic makeup, and all of my elements, major and minor, almost exactly coincide with a map of all theplaces the Vikings dominated at some point, from Ireland to Russia to the near east.  Maybe the old folks knew what they were talking about.
          To mark the occasion, I decided to host a cookout, and in honor of finding myself a member of one of the coolest ethnic groups on earth, I set about creating a celebratory recipe.  As a newly minted Irishman and a lover of potatoes, it had to be a potato recipe, and as a lifelong resident of southern California, it had to include a Southwest flavor.  So, after careful consideration, behold

Taters O'Tyler

To make this incredible dish, you'll need:
          Four small potatoes (or two large ones), scrubbed.
          One-half of a Green Bell Pepper.
          1/2 tsp. Paprika.
          1/2 tsp. Parsley Flakes.
          1/8 tsp. Cayenne Pepper.
          1/8 tsp. Mustard Powder.
          1/8 tsp. Garlic Powder.
          1/8 tsp. Black Pepper.
          1/8 tsp. Celery Salt.
          1/8 tsp. Ground Cumin.
          And for the hint of the Southwest, 1/8 tsp. Chili Powder.
          Cooking oil of choice.

          Boil potatoes fully covered for about 15 minutes.  You'll want them to be almost done, but still firm.
          While the potatoes are boiling, cut the Bell Pepper into 1/4" rings, then chop the rings into 1/4" pieces.  You want to finish with a pile of 1/4" squares.  Set these aside.
          Thoroughly mix the various powders in a small bowl to a smooth, reddish-brown consistency.
          Drain the potatoes and let them cool to where they can be handled.  Cut them into thin wedges, skins and all.  Coat a large mixing bowl with oil.  Place the wedges in the bowl, and "toss" them until they all have at least some oil on them.  Continue to toss, gradually adding the mixed seasonings, until all the wedges have some of the seasoning on them.  Mix in the Bell Pepper squares and take the bowl to the grill.
          Cook over medium heat in a grilling basket, using a stir-fry technique, until hot.  The recipe as you see it serves 4, and can be easily doubled, tripled, etc. to serve large gatherings.

          This was by all accounts the hit of the party, and proved so popular that an uninvited guest dropped in.
          Everyone was very excited to see him, but he didn't eat much, and the people sat out on the patio in the warm summer night talking and laughing, and enjoying each other's company.  No one felt compelled to leave until after midnight.  It was what I call a perfect party, and these spuds are what was remembered.  I'll have to admit that they're pretty labor-intensive, but if you know your way around a kitchen and you like the flavor of the southwest, they're well worth springing on your friends.  I hope you enjoy them as much as we did!

          All the best in all things always.  Now get out there and live life like you mean it!

~ Sean "Jack" O'Tyler

Monday, August 7, 2017

The Solar Sea

          The following just in from steampunk and scifi author David Lee Summers:

          This past week, I’ve been reading the fine steampunk adventure Arabella on Mars by David D. Levine. It’s a fine novel that won the 2017 Andre Norton Award for best young adult novel. One of this fantasy novel’s conceits is that it imagines an atmosphere in interplanetary space that allows ships to sail between planets in the 1800s.
          When I read the novel, I couldn’t help but think that while sailing between the planets without an atmosphere would have been beyond nineteenth century technology, it’s not beyond our current technology. In fact, I wrote a futuristic science fiction novel about such a journey called The Solar Sea. Solar sails don’t work by harnessing wind, or even the so-called solar wind, but they move by light pressure. About three years ago, I wrote a post that goes into some detail about how it works. You can read more here:
          In my novel, I imagine a future where humans got as far as building lunar factories, but the will to go farther out into space died. While I know there’s still a strong interest in exploring space, I fear many of the people who control this country’s money don’t see the value in investing real money in all aspects of space exploration. As an example, the Trump administration routinely touts it’s support of space exploration, yet proposed significant cuts to astronomy funding in its initial budget.
          I sometimes wonder if it will take a major discovery to give us the impetus to push out into space again as we did in the 1960s and 1970s. In the novel, a technician from the Very Large Array radio telescope in New Mexico discovers powerful particles orbiting Saturn’s moon, Titan, which could be a new energy source. When the discovery is announced, whales around the world changed their songs.
          This chain of events encourages the owner of the powerful Quinn Corporation to build a solar sail to find the source of these particles in Titan’s orbit. He gathers the best and brightest team to pilot his craft: Jonathan Jefferson, an aging astronaut known as the last man on Mars; Natalie Freeman, a distinguished Navy captain; Myra Lee, a biologist specializing in whale communication; and John O’Connell, the technician who first discovered the particles. All together they make a grand tour of the solar system and discover not only wonders but dangers beyond their imagination.
          Earlier this year, my publisher and I decided to take The Solar Sea out of print. There were several reasons for this. Partly, science and technology have caught up with the novel and I thought I worthwhile to revise it to make it more accurate. Partly the ebook was created ages ago and wasn’t up to the standards of newer ebooks, so I want to address this aspect as well. Once I finish work on my steampunk novel Owl Riders, I will turn my attention to some of my out of print titles.
          In the meantime, I have a few copies of the first edition of The Solar Sea left in my stock and I’m even offering them at half off the cover price. You can order copies at I would be delighted to sign any copies you buy. Just email me at hadrosaur [at] zianet [dot] com (replacing the info between the brackets with the relevant characters) and let me know that you would like it signed. If you would like them personalized, just tell me so and let me know who to sign the book to.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

The End is Nigh

          "Listen carefully to the first criticisms of your work.  Note just what it is about your work that the critics don't like--then cultivate it.  That's the part of your work that's individual and worth keeping."
                              ~ JEAN COCTEAU

          They're out there, oh yes they are, and I'll bet you've seen them.  The less-traveled cable channels are full of them, especially in the middle of the night.  Nation-wide AM radio call-in shows?  Check!  Internet?  Try turning on a computer without a measured bombardment, I dare you!
          Oh, I'm sorry, did I start in the middle?  Allow me to clarify:

          I'm just a dumb secretary with an AA degree from a community college, but my millionaire boss just moved to a secret ranch in Outer Slobbovia after converting all his assets to one form of holding.  He survived the Great Depression, the Nasty Recession, the Unexpected Gold Plunge, and the Other Great Depression, and if you buy my book, I'll disclose the secret method he used that will enable you to survive the Coming End of the World!

          Now, this is brilliant, and I'm ashamed that I didn't think of it myself.  After all, I've lived my whole life in the U.S., where the politicians get elected by making up some perceived end-of-life-as-we-know-it scenario that only they can fix, the military gets the new budget they want by reporting that our ideological opponents are just one circuit board away from rendering our armed forces obsolete, where the auto industry has pretty much convinced us that it's too dangerous to drive on public roads if you aren't in an SUV that can go head-to-head with a Tiger tank.  How did it never occur to me to simply tell everyone that you're going to die in poverty if you don't buy my book?
         Oh, wait a minute, because of my personal shortcoming, integrity.  I just can't do it, largely because of the embarrassment I'm going to suffer when the sun rises tomorrow, and the only thing different is that I now have some of your money.  And his, and his, and hers, and...  Hey, looks like I'm going to survive the coming recession after all!  What are you going to do?
          Okay, at this point, long-time readers will recognize that I'm tap dancing as I try to find a point to put on this ramble.  I'm just having some fun this week in the wake of last week's detailed post on character development, but I think the point I'll make for you, the aspiring author, is to be careful.
          Let me make this perfectly clear:  This is the Golden Age of the snake-oil salesman!  Those guys who went from town to town in the Old West, selling bottles of colored water from the back of a wagon, could reach maybe a hundred people a week.  These guys today can reach a million people a nanosecond, and from deposed Nigerian princes to undercover bank auditors, they're doing it, and they have their sights on you!
          Breaking into writing is a tough prospect, and I don't think I'm disclosing any secrets to anyone who has already tried their luck with the publishing industry.  Even if you're destined to be the next J.K. Rowling, you're going to experience rejections; in all likelihood, you'll collect enough rejection slips to wallpaper your bedroom.  It's the nature of the life we've chosen.  But some of the less scrupulous among us have chosen a different path.  They prey on young writers, new writers, some not so young, with stars in their eyes and dreams in their heads, and they come calling.  They're in your E-mail, they're in your sidebar, they're in your pop-ups and your blog comments.  Once they find out that you're trying to place a book, they're as relentless as ants at a picnic.  They'll sell you this, they'll sell you that, they'll sell you that elusive success that's just around the corner...  Only they won't.  What they'll actually sell you is a bill of goods that will never be delivered, and what it will cost you is every nickel they can wring out of you, and most of your dreams besides.
          Don't believe me?  I know how easy it is to be taken in by these hucksters, because I almost was myself.  They found me as I was shopping my first novel, Temple of Exile, around looking for a publisher.  They were so smooth they made butter look like sandpaper, and they might have caught me if their first request for money, for "editing" services, hadn't been so far beyond my means.  I'm here now, an almost-victim, to try to help you avoid these predators.  And you don't have to take my word for it.  Read what the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America has to say about them at  It's a fascinating read, but don't go into it unless you have a couple of hours to spend.  Yeah, it's that bad.
          So that's today's post.  There are, unfortunately, people out there, lots of them, who feel that they are somehow entitled to take your money and give you nothing for it, and they know that people with dreams are soft targets.  Knowledge is power, forewarned is forearmed, intelligence is victory; you guys are writers, you've heard them all.  They're all true.  Educate yourselves, be smart, and don't be a victim.  And until we meet again, let's be careful out there!

*The delightful photograph is from the Trades that Shaped the West living history exhibit in San Diego's Old Town, and was snapped by my good friend Richard Schulte.  You can enjoy thousands more of his quality photos by visiting his photoblog at