Jason M. Brooks's Blog

There are many things to fear in life. Snakes and spiders would sit at the top of my list with snakes running away with the “Most Hated Award”. I can kill a spider if the situation requires it but only if I can do it at little risk of it surviving long enough to launch a counter attack. But snakes don’t die. They squirm and slither and wreak all kinds of sinister ruckus upon their death. I’ve run many snakes over with the lawn mower and let me tell you, the severed parts of the body follow me for a quarter mile before finally falling to their death. During that crucial time where the segments give chase as they thrash to their death the only lawn that gets mowed is the single swath across my yard and the hay field next to it as I flee for my life in sixth gear.

Snakes are a sign that hell is real. Anyone that doubts that hell is real, look in the eyes of a snake and you will see how wrong you really are.

Put me in a divided room where on one side you took your chances with snakes and the other side was a tank of blood thirsty sharks and I will take the sharks every time – and keep in mind I can barely swim. I’d rather dare to tread water for the rest of my life and have a shark nibble on my toes than to take my chances with those godforsaken slithering spawns of Satan.

Of all the creatures God created I’d have to think that the snake wasn’t one of them. Snakes were an accidental release from pandora’s box – some sort of weapon to be used in the days of judgement but an angel from above didn’t read the tag on the box that said, “Open on the last day of the world.” The angel opened the box to take a look inside and the snake popped out and wiggled off before the box was closed back up. Crazy Dave – the wise and trustworthy leader of our Woodland Scouts pack used to tell us that the old Indian word for snake is Makemejumpandscream and I couldn’t agree more.

This little slithery tube of scaly flesh and muscle has no real purpose but to scare the ba-jeepers out of someone when they are taking the dog for a walk and it decides to emerge from the depths of hell. It streaks across the ground and instead of quietly slithering off towards shelter it instead pops its little head up to make people aware of its presence, locks eyes with the now panicked dog walker, and changes course to attack. Before I… I mean… the dog walker can prepare for a counter attack (or in reality, leave the dog to fend for itself and run for dear life), it has already closed the distance and slips up over the shoe of the dog walker and scares the poor man stupid.

I don’t know… maybe God did create the little demons just to get a good laugh once in a while, but I can’t imagine that would be the case. If He did create snakes I’m guessing someone pulled that verse from the Bible because I’m certain it would have read, “Then God created the slithery snake and let it loose on the ground. He stood back, watched it for a second, and realized how repulsive it was and that it was a bad idea. He shook his head in disgust. Before he could remove it from the Earth it slipped below the crust of the Earth and disappeared, and He pretended that it never happened and moved on.”

Snakes, my friends, are something to truly be afraid of.

Birds, amazingly enough, nearly made my list as well.

I remember long ago as summer gave way to the colors of fall, I invited over a few of my friends to play football in the front orchard and to watch scary movies at night. Those friends were, The Natural – so named because we were in awe of his natural ability to do anything with a level of grace and perfection not seen before. There was Stick McGee – the expert hockey player among us and the instigator of many of the troubles we would find ourselves in. He was also the first to turn us in as the culprits when he knew the backlash had the potential to be great. Then there was Pokey who was the best friend of my brother, Gung Ho.

Now, scary movies are a rite of passage. Its something every young group of boys watch together at some point, so they can brag to the other kids at school how ridiculously gory the movie was. They can brag about pulling one over on their parents as they smuggled in a horror flick and witnessed the crazy number of body parts thrown across rooms, gallons of blood splattered on walls, and eyeballs being boiled in pots of soup.

The excitement didn’t just come from watching the horror played out on film. The excitement most importantly came from the way in which you acquired the film to watch it.

In my parent’s day this rite of passage was accomplished by slipping in through the back door of the movie theater. Not much of a challenge really as you waited behind a dumpster for a customer to come out and then before the door closed you’d slip in and sneak your way into one of the rooms and hide behind a seat until the room went dark and the movie started to play.

Years later, technology made it more of a challenge. In my day it was done in the comfort of one’s home by means of a VHS tape. This was more of a challenge because not only would you need to sneak it out of your parent’s library of movies without them knowing, but you’d have to remember to rewind it back to the last point in which you found it… just in case they knew at what point they had stopped watching it. You never wanted to leave trace evidence that you watched a horror film and if you found a tape stopped at a certain point it was a well-known fact that the parents had set a trap for you.

Then, if you were sneaky enough to get it out of the library and were good at rewinding it to the right point, you also had to find a way to watch it without them knowing you were watching it. This took guts and determination and a keen ear to hear the creaking of the bed or floor as parents always have a way of knowing when mischief is going on and they get up at random times to investigate (cleverly disguising their investigation as taking a pee). My go to move was to quietly close their door enough so the light of the television didn’t make it into their room. Then we’d sit as close to the tv as possible with the volume down as low as possible – but still loud enough for us to hear the screams. We’d have the remote in one hand and one eye and ear trained on the hallway and watched until our little brains were overloaded with the horror.

Except, I did have one problem. My parents didn’t own any horror movies… so my skills were acquired by watching Alien, Terminator, and Predator movies – which in my house carried just as much weight as a horror flick and were just as off limits to me. Unfortunately, all my friends had already seen those movies because their parents were cool and didn’t see anything wrong with watching them as a family while eating dinner on the couch. There wasn’t anything dangerous about watching those types of flicks. The cool kids were watching horror flicks and I had no library in which to pull from.

When everyone was at the lunch table talking about the recent horror flick they had watched I had to make up titles of movies that nobody had ever heard of and describe events that nowadays would have set off parental alarms and caused me to be locked up in a padded room. While all the kids ate it up as truth, there was a risk that came with fabricating these outlandish stories. At some point these same kids would be at my house for a sleep over and the inevitable act of watching horror movies would come up and I didn’t have a single one of these movies to show my friends. I would be found out to be a horror flick watching fraud… it was just a matter of time.

As we played our last game of football and retreated into the house for dinner and movies, the whispers started reach my ears.

“Which movie are you going to slip in tonight?” The Natural asked me. “Tell me we’re going to watch ‘Night of the Lizard Dogs’. I want to see that scene you told me about when the lizard dog’s tongue lashes out and rips the guys head off and then the dogs head twirls and he shoots the skull out into the sky and it blows up like fireworks. I’ve never seen anything like that!”

I remember wanting to slither away like a snake and hide under the crust of the Earth. I was going to get found out for sure. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen at the sleep over, but I guess I secretly believed nobody would be in the mood for watching horror flicks after we were done playing football for the day.

Stick McGee was the next one to pull me aside, “Are you going to go into your dad’s secret drawer and get us that movie about the baker who clubs people to death with his rolling pin and then grinds them up to make jelly donuts?”

“If only I could,” I said to myself. Not only did the movie not exist, but neither did my dads secret stash of movies.

I was backed into a serious corner.

After dinner we went to my room and hung out until my parents were sound asleep and then it was time to put up or shut up. All my friends wanted me to pull out the scariest flick of all the flicks I had watched and in truth I had nothing to show them.

The peer pressure built up to a level I could no longer slink away from and I was forced to tip toe down the hall and lead my little group to the living room. I realized my first mistake, slipped back to my parents’ room and quietly closed the door – though I had considered sabotaging the entire event by having them discover our antics… but then my reputation of being the ultimate horror movie sneak would be debunked. I knew I had to find a way to pull this off. I returned to the living room and stood before the massive library of movies and scanned the titles praying that there was something hiding there I hadn’t seen before and could deliver me from the hole I was in.

In my mind I could see this becoming another Stevie Gruber Birthday Fiasco of 1984.

Stevie Gruber had a bunch of us over for his birthday party. The food was great. Pizza, pop, candy, games, the party hit all the right notes and Stevie was on his way to being a hero of the 5th grade. Then his parents put in the movies they had rented us. The first film was For the Love of Benji. 5th grade boys didn’t watch dog flicks back in those days, yet here we were at Stevie Grubers place being forced to watch a dog flick.

Stevie Gruber knew he was in trouble when we all started to root for a car to swerve off the road and strike the shaggy dog. But then things got darker when the second film was put in and it was The Never Ending Story. This was well known as a teenage girl chick flick disguised as an action flick. If Benji hadn’t destroyed the momentum of the party, The Never Ending Story was the dagger deep in the heart and twisted. We all realized that there was a very good chance we were now tainted by being a part of Stevie’s Birthday Party and knowingly watching these movies. In my day, kids who watched these movies might as well have watched My Little Pony. If anyone should know the truth, we would have wound up being fodder for the bullies and the laughing stock of the 5th grade lunch room.

For the sake of Stevie – and to protect our own reputations, we all agreed to say we had watched Terminator or some other wickedly violent movie – not a horror flick but something still commendable. The one problem with our entire story was Stick McGee. Stick McGee was one of those friends who would give you the shirt off your back one minute and then push you into the lion’s den the next. You never knew which Stick McGee you were going to get. As we formulated our story for the following Monday in school, I am certain each one of us was working on a backup story in case Stick turned on us and fed us to the wolves.

Sure enough, Monday morning came, and Stick McGee wasted no time in sharing the details of Stevie Gruber’s Birthday Party.

As much as we loved Stevie Gruber, he was now radioactive and for the next few weeks we had to keep our distance to avoid being pulled in to die in the toxic cloud that surrounded him. Like most things, after a time, the drama died down and we were able to safely welcome Stevie back into our midst. His leprosy was over and he was safe to be seen with, but nobody attended another Stevie Gruber party again for fear of a repeat performance.

As I looked at the pathetic assortment of movies my parents kept it was clear that I was the next Stevie Gruber. Of course, I could make up a new story and say my parents had figured out that I had been watching their horror movie collection and they had thrown them all away, but it would mean that I wasn’t as clever as I stated I was when it came to smuggling scary movies. What was worse? Not being clever or not owning horror movies? I really didn’t know at that point.

I started digging through the movies hoping to find a Hail Marry somewhere deep in back of the collection of tapes. I needed to find something that might qualify as worthy of a sleepover movie – anything that might save my butt in this situation. My fingers swept across an old Alfred Hitchcock film titled The Birds. For those not familiar with this movie a quick summary would go like this: A massive pack of rowdy birds fly into a town, go absolutely insane and start terrorizing and killing the townsfolk. While the title didn’t sound threatening at the time and I wasn’t familiar with the content, I did know that this movie had passed the Mom Test not long ago. There was a deep hope inside that I had found a winner

Now you might be asking yourself… what is “The Mom Test?” Simply put, The Mom Test was the act of telling her I was about to watch something, say something, or do something and then using her reaction to judge what the consequence of my action might be or if – in the case of the movie – had the potential to scare us silly at night. My mom assured me it was scary and even went to the length of forbidding us to watch it.

Would it turn out to be a horror film that could save me? I didn’t know, but as I said before, it had passed the Mom Test and at this point I had nothing to lose.

We sat up for the next hour and a half and were mesmerized by the film. I didn’t know at the time if it would keep me from being ridiculed the following Monday at school, but it was enough to keep us all engaged and asking the question of “What if?” We all had a hard time going to sleep that night and for the first time I had a feeling that I might escape the weekend with my reputation intact.

However, the next day as we took to the orchard to play football, Stick McGee was the first to come out of the trance of the movie and made it clear that he was going to attempt to turn my sleep over into another Stevie Gruber event. My heart started to sink but I held out hope that Pokey and The Natural had been scared enough to vouch that what we had watched was indeed a horror flick – minus blood and body parts.

As the game of football went on and the conversations continued, I could see them working through the consequences of standing by my assessment of the movie. The Natural was the first to turn against me and join Stick McGee and soon after Pokey joined them. Of course, my brother had nothing to worry about because he was two grades below me, but he also jumped on the Stick McGee bandwagon just to rub it in.

At that point I realized I was toast come Monday morning.

And then it started to happen.

We lived out in the country and our yard was separated into what I called, three quadrants. We had the first quadrant which was the orchard in the front yard which was wide open with plenty of space to play baseball and football and only a few apple trees that you had to dodge. The second quadrant was the side of the house. Equally it was a large area where in a pinch we could play a game of football, but the overhanging tree branches often caused passes to be deflected. Baseball was a bit sketchy in this area because line drives often hit trees and shot back at you with lethal results. The third quadrant was in the back yard. This was parent territory because there was very little of this space that was playable for us kids.

The house was nestled in the middle of all three quadrants and the front quadrant had a row of thick wood that served as almost a wall between the first quadrant and the house and remaining quadrants. The driveway served as the only passage from the first quadrant into the others. This wall of trees gave us privacy from the watchful eyes of my parents and also provided a safe space where we could do stupid things like make flame throwers from grandma’s can of hairspray and blow up ant hills with firecrackers.

On this day, though, that wall was about to become a barrier between us and the safety of the house.

As I snapped the football and dropped back for a pass, I noticed that Stick McGee had become distracted. He was looking up at something behind me. I turned and saw a few black birds in the trees but nothing that seemed to warrant any alarm.

“You still playing?” I asked.

McGee didn’t take his eyes off the birds as he shook his head yes. I snapped the ball and we tried to run the play again. This time I found both Pokey and Stick staring up at the trees. I turned.

More birds had gathered. There was a slight tinge in the back of my mind that something was amiss, but I’d seen a collection of a few birds in those trees before. I was confident that it didn’t warrant much concern but there was that “What if” question that was growing in my mind.

I tried to get us focused back on the game but by this time, Natural, Stick, Pokey, and my brother were all focused on the patch of woods that separated us from the house. And as we watched together, the birds continued to gather. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. The sky was filled with streams of birds coming in from every direction and settling in the wall of trees that separated us from the orchard and the safety of the house.

The noise of the birds grew as they gathered more and more up in the trees. Thicker they became as they swooped down from all around, collecting on the branches and causing the massive trees to almost lean with their collected weight.

That tinge turned into surging fear and I was not alone.

There’s a good chance that all five of us had wet ourselves in that moment but the fear was so great we couldn’t feel it running down our legs. The only way to safety was to pass under the trees where the birds continued to gather. I swear to this day that those birds had tongues and they were licking their beaks in anticipation of eating us alive.

I looked at the others and it was clear that we all knew the same thing… someone was going to die… possibly all of us. But if there was any chance to survive it was by rushing through that pass and getting through the walkout basement door before the birds caught us.

That’s when I had a clever idea. We needed to send a sacrificial lamb through the pass first. With luck the birds would attack him and the rest of us would have a fighting chance to survive. Stick McGee would have been my first choice, so I wouldn’t have to deal with his antics on the following Monday, but he was too smart to be the first to go through. We needed someone more daring. Someone braver. Someone just dense enough to not weigh the threat level before it was too late to turn back.

The best candidate among us was Pokey.

Pokey was named for multiple reasons. The first of which was because his last name was Polk but he never pronounced the l in his name and so for the first ten years of knowing him we were convinced his name was Lyle Poke. Being kids of course we had to alter his last name and hence he was called Pokey… though ironically as I reflect back on those days he actually earned that name for another reason. His mind didn’t quite work the same as ours.

Lyle Pokey had an uncanny ability to bypass the God given instinct to perform a threat assessment before attempting something the rest of us had already deemed too dangerous. While we would be calculated and cautious, Pokey would put his head down and charge right in – often with disastrous results. We took it upon ourselves to protect him as best we could but if we happened to come across a situation that fooled our threat assessment, we’d send in Pokey to test our theories. While it was great for us to watch and learn as he would plow a path through danger; it often had the unintended consequence of cutting our days adventures short as we would have to drag him home to be patched up by his mother.

If anyone would be willing to lead the charge through the pass and make an attempt to get to the house, Pokey was that person. We just had to get him moving before he had time to really understand what he was about to do.

“Pokey,” I whispered. “You go first. Run for the house. We’ll follow behind.”

“Why?” he asked.

My fears were being realized. He was thinking this one through already. We had missed our window of opportunity, but then he looked up at the trees and glanced at the thundering cloud of birds flapping their wings and licking their chops and said, “Okay,” and he was off.

A little could of dust gathered up behind him as he ran down our dirt driveway. He was nearly to the pass and the birds had yet to move. If they didn’t attack him then our plan would have backfired and one of us remaining four would be the next likely victim. Perhaps the others thought the same thing because suddenly I saw flashes of lightning and heard roaring thunder and as I looked around, I realized I was standing alone in the field and Gung Ho, The Natural, and Stick McGee were rushing for the basement door and had already surpassed Pokey on the ground. They had left me to die.

I realized in that moment I had to beat Pokey to the door.

I took off running. I could see my brother, The Natural, and Stick go through the basement door. They had foolishly left it open behind them. Luckily the birds had yet to leave their perches. But then I saw Pokey stumble in front of me. He fell to the ground and let out a scream and the birds above saw their moment and rose up as one enormous cloud of clattering death. They circled and then one swooped down for Pokey. He was trying to get to his feet but stumbled back to the ground just in time to avoid the chomping beak of the killer bird as it passed within inches of his head. He rolled and tried to get back up and I was forced to hurdle over him as I raced for the door. My foot slapped him on the back of the head, but my survival instincts were in full force and I was able to keep my balance and charge for safety.

I could feel the breath of the vicious beasts above me. Their wings beat against the wind sounding like a massive fleet of helicopters flying in from above. Their chatters of death rang in my ears sending shooting spikes of fear through my body. I had to get to safety.

Suddenly I could hear them getting closer. Their beating wings shaking the ground and their screams piercing any bit of bravery I had in my soul. The door to the basement was just feet away so I dug down deep and found a final surge of speed to burst through the basement door and slamming it shut behind me. At that moment the house shook violently as the wave of attackers hit the door behind me and let out a blood curdling scream. By the time I got in to the family room I found that Gung Ho, Stick, and Natural had flipped over a couch and used it as another layer of protection.

I ducked in with them and we hunkered down, sobbing and wiping away the tears as we realized that Pokey had been left behind to die.

“He did it for us, Guys,” I said between sobs. “He died to protect us. He’s a real hero.”

I’m not sure how long we were crying before we realized that the world around us had gone quiet. The question of who would get up to check on the status of the birds was silently discussed between our passing glances. I realized it would have to be me. Nobody was going to get out from the safety of the overturned couch.

I crawled out and looked at the door.

The glass window had held its ground against the attack. The safety glass held but there was a round spiderweb of shattered safety glass in the middle of the pane that told the story of our danger. I remember thinking that the flock of the birds must have hit that spot with one hell of a wallop. As I took another step closer, the web of glass seemed to be protruding in towards the room. Another step closer and I could see an outline… almost like a nose in the glass. Maybe even a forehead… and was that a forehead imprint I could see in the glass?

I looked up through the window and could see that the trees were clear. The birds were gone. As I opened the door I expected to find the bloody remains of Pokey out under the trees. Instead I found him laid out on the ground outside the door.

He was out cold.

We later realized – though we never revealed it to him – that Pokey was right behind me as I went though the basement door. The thundering wings were actually his panicked feet slamming into the ground as he sprinted for the door. The shockwave we felt when the birds struck the house were actually the shockwaves of Pokey slamming into a closed door. And the scream… well, I’m not quite sure where the scream came from, but logic would say that it happened sometime between the moment of him striking the door and falling into an unconscious state.

In the end, we all survived that weekend. When my grandma woke from her nap we told her what had happened, and she put our fears at ease by telling us that the birds were simply gathering up to rest before continuing south. There was a collective relief that fell among us… well, most of us. Pokey had hit the door so hard that he simply forgot the entire event ever happened. We’re not even certain he remembers watching the movie.

Up to the point of my grandma clarifying that day’s events, birds had moved to the top of my list of most hated things; replacing snakes. But now that I knew the entire event was an overreaction caused by our own stimulated minds, birds dropped back off the radar. Though turkeys did find their way on my list but that is a tale for another day.

Unfortunately, I had to reveal the truth to my parents and tell them that we had watched The Birds that night. They kept a straight face through my entire confession and as I explained how Pokey’s face ended up embedded on the window of the door. The movie was removed from our family’s library but the window in the door was left as a reminder for a few more months until I had raked enough leaves to pay for a new one.

As for the following Monday at school… well, Stick McGee’s attitude had changed and he realized that the movie had scared him as much as it did the rest of us and that was enough dirt to keep his lips zipped. Together, we worked out a tale of a horrifying movie that we had watched, and we convinced everyone that I had thrown the best overnighter in the history of overnighters and that my parents had the greatest collection of horror movies ever assembled. It was a lie that I never had to prove because I never invited anyone other than those guys to spend the night at my house again.

“Are you sure that’s going to be enough food for the four of you?” my mother asked. Her face betrayed the worry within as her eyes followed my dad’s movements as he placed a single can of peaches and a single can of Hormel Chili into the ruck sack.

“Of course, it is” he scoffed. “We’re going to eat what we catch… live off the land… that sort of thing. It’s going to be a man’s weekend that they’ll never forget.”

“But what if you don’t catch anything?”

“When have I ever gone fishing down the river and not caught something? Believe me, we’ll be eating well this weekend.”

It’s interesting when I stop to reflect on that conversation. I was sitting at the dining room table with my cousin Bubba (name changed to protect his real identity and give him the ability to claim deniability to being a part of this expedition) and my brother (whom I shall refer to as Gung Ho), as he uttered these words. Put aside the fact that there is little to nothing tasty that you can make with a can of peaches and a can of chili, we just sat there and took in the conversation without any thought of the potential risk level we were about to add to this journey.

Watching a single can of peaches and a single can of chili be placed into the bag should have set off some alarms in our heads – at least sparked some sort of protest. Instead, we were too busy woofing down two grilled hamburgers a piece, more potato chips than any one normal person can consume, a bowl full of baked beans and then a plate full of cookies to top it all off. We were eating at the Kings table… how could we ever envision a famine?

Pepper, our black lab – terrier mix who possessed an intellect unmatched in history and could have scored higher than me on my ACT, made eye contact with me as I sat there eating. I thought he was interested in what was on my plate. Instead the way he looked at me and shook his head in disgust was his way of trying to relay a different message. I realize now that when it was time to leave and he protested and forced my dad’s hand to leave him behind that he did it as an act of survival. Though we loved him much, he’d seen a movie or two while curled up in the living room on movie night and was well aware that humans were capable of eating each other in dire situations so there wouldn’t be any hesitation to eat him if the trip should turn south and we needed a quick meal.

But again, we didn’t fear the image of one can of peaches and one can of chili beans in the bag. If my dad felt that was enough than that was enough. My dad was leading us on this trip and let me tell you, there isn’t a camper alive that can compete with my old man.

My dad has been camping for ages. If reincarnation is a thing, well then, this old man has been around the block quite a few times and has been a master of the art of roughing it under the stars since long before Jesus walked the Earth.

Abraham – perhaps the first documented camper found in the book of Genesis, Gustoff – the sole survivor of a failed expedition through the Andes mountains, Sacajawea – the famous Native American woman who led two white men through unexplored territory… if they weren’t direct reincarnations of my father, there’s a darn good chance that he still had a hand in educating them on how to survive in the wilderness. When the world is in need of a master to teach the art of roughing it, my dad is the man God keeps sending to lead campers around the world to the rest and relaxation only the wild can provide.

Legend has it that he most recently came into this world with a backpack on his shoulders and a hatchet in his hand as he shot out of the womb and took to the wilderness where he led America’s revival of the lost art of camping.

If there is a Jedi of camping, my dad would be Yoda.

If there is a high priest of the order of campers, my dad would be the Pope.

So hopefully you can understand why my mom didn’t put up much of a fight when she watched him pack one can of peaches and one can of chili or why three teenage boys with appetites that rival a full platoon of soldiers did not doubt that we could survive off the land… and one can of peaches and one can of chili.

With everything packed and loaded up and the canoe strapped down to the top of the car, we went to bed that night with visions and excitement of the adventures to come. The next morning as the sun broke over the horizon, my mom packed a couple of sandwiches in the cooler and sent us on our way.

There were many great discussions between the four of us as we drove to the point where we would set out on our journey. We talked about the fish we could expect and the campsite my dad had marked out as the halfway point on our two-day venture down the Apple River. We didn’t have a care in the world as we reached our destination, loaded up the canoe and cast off into the crystal clear waters of the Apple River.

Not long into the voyage, Bubba cast his line into the river and pulled up a nice sized bluegill.

“Check this out, Uncle Mark!” he said as he pulled the hook from the lip and put it on display for all of us to see.

“That’s a good sign,” I said as I hurried to spear a worm on my hook and send my line out into the water as well. There’s nothing that can match the feeling of hooking a fish on the end and reeling them in. Even the little ones know how to put up a good fight and get the adrenaline pumping.

Bubba turned to place the bluegill into the bucket, but my dad stopped him.

“No, Bubba. That may look big to you city slickers, but there are bigger fish out here. Throw him back. There’s more to come. Bigger ones to come. I promise you.”

Bubba looked down at his catch and seemed to contemplate what to do with it. It isn’t natural to toss back a decent sized fish. Though when my dad promised bigger fish… than bigger fish is what you’re going to get.

Just then, I felt my line get pulled down as well. I reared back and could feel that hook set in the lip through the line and my pole. They were an extension of my body now. I was ready for the fight to come. I started reeling, and he started protesting.

Bubba finally decided to trust the words of my dad – as there isn’t any point in history that he had ever been wrong when it came to the things of the great outdoors – and set his catch free.

The bluegill hit the water.

My line went slack.

The clouds thickened above.

Thunder rolled in the distance.

The waters grew faster and there was a scream of collective rage on the breeze that suddenly swept over us.

The fish gods were angered.

Though we didn’t know it yet, we were about to pay the price for setting back the river’s bounty.

My dad was confident that this spot wouldn’t provide the type of fish we were looking for, so we continued on our way. From time to time he would raise his nose in the air and would sniff for whatever scent it was that told him time and time again that the fish were prevalent in a certain spot. I speculated at the time and even started to believe that he was sniffing for fish farts. However, later in life I learned that wasn’t a thing.

We continued to paddle our way down the river, waiting for that radar nose to hone in on a prime fishing spot. As the terrain shifted and the river narrowed to a point where we had fallen trees making our path more treacherous, his detector must have gone off because he ordered us to drop lines in this area as he would guide us through the obstacles. Knowing that when he said fish, we should fish – we went to work setting our gear.

The details are murky at this point, but somehow my dad lost his God given ability to guide a canoe through the eye of a needle and wound up slamming into a downed tree that blocked half of the waterway. The canoe turned sideways and then the fish from below came to the surface, wrapped their fins around the edge of our boat and began to pull it to the depths.

Our gear popped out and started to float away… our sandwiches in the cooler becoming the first casualties. Bubba scrambled down the river and grabbed the fishing poles, tackle boxes, and gear and tossed them towards the riverbanks. Whatever didn’t make it to dry land, I scooped up and completed their journey with one last throw. Meanwhile, Gung Ho wasn’t so lucky. The fish gods were determined to undermine my dad and take his second born – which is a nice change of pace because most gods want to take the first born and that would be me. Gung Ho’s foot was somehow caught in the canoe. As it continued to fill with water and sink to the bottom, he was coming dangerously close to going down with it.

But my dad is a master survivalist and defiantly battled back against the fish gods who wished him harm. He tugged and he pulled and valiantly fought the powers against him before finally breaking my brother loose and dragging him to the river bank. Though the fish gods tried to best my father… he came out the victor.

As the four of us sat on the bank, water soaked clothes and all, we took a level of pride in how we stared death in the face and triumphed. We let the sun do its work for a bit and then with sloshing shoes and clingy clothes, readied ourselves to return to the river.

My dad and Bubba waded back into the water and pulled the canoe back to the surface while my brother and I collected the gear that had been scattered about the river bank and took inventory of what we still had. I had to walk a ways down the bank to find where the ruck sack had fallen. When I came upon it, I found its contents strewn about. I gathered up the supplies it contained and pushed them back inside. The final items to go in were the one can of peaches and the one can of chili.

I looked at the can of peaches and the can of chili and for the first time asked myself an important question, “What in the world do you do with one can of peaches and one can of chili beans? That combination just doesn’t make sense.”

Perhaps our brief brush with death had started me on a path to enlightenment and for the first time I started doubting the master mind of my dad and his God given abilities to camp. For some reason, the one can of peaches and the one can of chili had me thinking that something wasn’t right in his head.

As we took inventory of our equipment, we realized that we had lost one fishing pole and one ore. Luckily the river was moving at a pretty good clip and my dad – excluding the slight hiccup just minutes before – was a master in the art of steering a canoe. This made the missing ore a moot point.

We decided that our rumbling tummy’s deserved a quick bite so we opened up our cooler to dig out the sandwiches my mom had packed. Unfortunately, water had penetrated the seals of the little cooler and all that remained was soggy bread and lunchmeat with globs of the oily remnants of Miracle Whip.

Our hearts collectively sank.

The four of us looked down in the pool of icky goo and contemplated what the next few hours were going to be like navigating down the river on empty stomachs. Lucky for us, as I was about to put the lid on the cooler, Bubba, with an uncanny knack for seeing food where others saw hopelessness, pushed the cover aside and plunged his fingers into the murky depths of the cooler. He fished around and suddenly withdrew his hand to show us a package of hotdogs.

I can only imagine that the feelings we had at that very moment was similar to the one the crowd felt when Jesus began pulling enough fish out of a basket to feed thousands of people. Bubba had produced what we now call the Apple River Miracle – a package of hotdogs from a pool of soaked bread and twisted lunch meat covered in goo.

We didn’t take the time to cook them. Each of us ate two raw hot dogs a piece and then we placed the remaining ones in the cooler and set out with the intention of catching supper and reaching our halfway point to settle down for the night.

As the sun continued its movement across the sky and our arms became weary from the constant and fruitless casting of our lines, we began to joke that our one can of peaches and one can of chili were about to become an important staple on this trip. As we came to shore at our campsite for the night, my dad instructed us to get to work setting up the tent and building a fire while he went to work rigging his fishing rod for one last ditch effort to bring home dinner.

He reached into the back of the canoe and withdrew his sacred tackle box. Nearly three stories high, this tackle box contained every lure known to man throughout all history. I remember it fondly as my brother and I would always dig through the top few trays and marvel at the variety those three trays contained. But we never would open it all the way and look into the bowels of the lower level… for that was forbidden territory. Only a true master of the art of fishing was ever allowed to look upon that level of my dad’s tackle box.

For the most part, my dad only used the top three trays of his box because they contained only what a real fisherman needed.

“If you can’t catch it with a hook and worm, you shouldn’t be fishing for it anyways,” he would always say.

But today was different.

The odds were against him.

The fish gods were angry, and my dad was clearly angrier.

Desperate times called for extreme measures and the three of us stopped what we were doing and watched with a level of intensity you might find at a chess match. The anticipation was building. Would he go where none of us have ever seen him go before?

The look of defiance on his face was clear. His tongue wiggled at the corner of his mouth as if there was another set of eyes on it trying to help him increase his efficiency and not miss any detail. His eyes were slits of concentration, examining every knot he weaved. At one point he looked ready to rise from his spot on the bank of the river, but then he stopped. He withdrew his knife and undid all that he had rigged. Then, as if his mind had recalled a great secret, he went back to his tackle box and opened it all the way, exposing not just the three trays that made up the top third of his box, but he revealed the massive chest below… a place he seldom dove into. A place where the lures of legend were stored.

An almost holy light emitted from the depths of his tackle box. The birds around us sang in unison, building the level of drama like a good orchestra score in a classic movie.

Reaching into the greater depths of his massive tackle box he pulled out lures that only a select few had ever cast their eyes on. These were lures with so much history, so many stories to tell, and all kept hidden in the depths of his box for moments such as this.

He left nothing on the field that day.

He pulled out all the stops and threw every trick in the book at the fish gods who dared to mock him on this trip.

He would not be denied.

That night by the crackling warmth of the fire, we sat around and reflected on the events of the past fifteen hours.

There were quite a few laughs.

There were heroic moments.

There were new memories made and legends to be told.

And there were victories.

But at dinner time there were no fish.

There were four remaining hot dogs provided by the Apple River Miracle sliced up and tossed into one can of chili. And for dessert…

We feasted on one can of peaches.

Wild Space: Reclamation continues on after the events of Wild Space: Onslaught. I thought about jumping the series ahead a few weeks, but I didn’t want to lose that survival aspect to the series so soon. So, the crew ends up just days into their plight with nothing to use to repair their ship. That helps set the stage for so much in this second book of the series.

In Reclamation, we get to know the characters a bit more as each one develops in their own way. Let’s take a quick look at the remaining character bios.

WARNING: The production notes are filled with spoilers from this book and others in the series. If you haven’t read the book yet, please read it before going on. You’ve been warned…

Character Profiles

Lieutenant Gretchen Markson: Gretchen is a fireball who doesn’t take crap from anyone. I loved her moments with Captain Avery in the first book. While Gretchen doesn’t factor in as much in the second book, she has an important role to play in this series. Gretchen begins her career as my version of Lieutenant Uhura from the Original Series of Star Trek. She’s the communication officer with superior linguistic skills.

In the Wild Space Universe, I imagine that the world would have only a handful of dominant languages left. In the series, I call them the Big Five. They are; English, Russian, Chinese, Arabic, and Hebrew. Her gift is being able to speak nearly all of them fluently. My belief is that over time, these five languages would begin to meld and the people of the inhabited worlds in Wild Space would speak in new dialects of the known Big Five. Having Gretchen on board to translate any new languages had great value and that was one of the biggest reasons why John wanted her on this mission.

Marvin Kent: Marvin is a civilian contractor who is in charge of the Deep Space Drive program. His business – which he inherited from his parents – is the brains behind the research that developed this engine. The only reason Marvin is sent along on this mission is because Admiral Goodrich demands it. The Admiral has plans for the next generation of the Deep Space Drive engine and Marvin needs to be there to conduct research.

Marvin is blind to the risks of being on a starship. He was clearly expecting an adventure, but he soon gets more than he bargained for. By the end of the first book, he is thrust into a role of leadership. Does he have what it takes? The second book is going to force him to find out.

Lieutenant Grant Gustafson: Grant is the muscle of the Independence. He’s the top security officer and quickly becomes a friend to Commander Reid. He is fearless and highly skilled, which will come in handy as the series continues. Grant is loyal to those he serves. We’ll see his character grow as the series continues.

TRIVIA: One of my favorite Star Trek episodes ever is one from Star Trek: Enterprise titled Azati Prime. In this episode, the Enterprise is slaughtered in space much like the Independence was. Outnumbered with no way of calling in reinforcements, they are truly on their own to figure out a way to survive. I captured that in the first book and I was desperate to at least have fun with it one more time before getting the Independence back up and running.

Chapter by Chapter Breakdown

Chapter 1: The events of Reclamation pick up right after the events of Onslaught and really, this book could be called Onslaught Part 2. We see Captain Avery laboring with the crew to get the ship back into working order. Michael sees the captain doing things he really shouldn’t be doing. As a young first officer, he’s trying to figure out his role on the ship. Does he protest the captain’s decision to put himself in bodily danger or does he keep his mouth shut?

I wanted to establish two important things in this chapter. Number 1 – This isn’t Star Trek. The men and women in this universe struggle with real human emotions at every turn and they don’t always live in harmony. While John and Michael are working well together, there is friction and it will come to a boiling point later on in the series. Number 2 – The struggle to survive isn’t just about fixing the ship, its about fixing the people on the ship. Everyone has been impacted physically and mentally. Hence the title: Reclamation. This book is about the characters fixing their boat and reclaiming the person they once were before the onslaught.

Chapter 2: Because these are short books, I need to keep the action flowing so John makes his way to the bridge where he finds out that a ship is quickly approaching and he and his crew need to figure out a way to prepare the ship for battle in a matter of hours. I also decided it was time to show that not everyone is dealing with their role reversals in good order.

Marvin Kent is having trouble as the chief engineer. Those in the engineering department are not accepting him as Captain Avery had hoped. I added this conflict between Marvin and his subordinates because in my years in the military I can attest to the need for a leader to gain the trust of his men. I felt that for Marvin to be believable, he would need to run through the gauntlet and prove himself to the men and women who have been placed in his charge. Being that he has no military background at all, makes his acceptance that much more hard.

TRIVIA: As I was writing chapter 2, I realized that this was how I could answer the question of “How do you fix a ship with no spare parts?” The answer is, you hijack a towing vessel and steal the parts from that ship. I’ve tried to recall any movie or sci-fi television show that did something similar. I can’t recall watching anything with that sort of plot, so as of this writing, I believe I came up with something original in sci-fi writings. Feel free to comment below if you can think of something that debunks that thought. I have to believe someone did it at some point in time.

Chapter 3: Lieutenant Kelly Avery isn’t equipped to be the Chief Medical Officer on the Independence. In reality, it should probably be one of the nurses, but for whatever reason, I had her appointed to the position. So, how do I make her believable in her new post? I need to give her the tools to do the work.

Enter, the Emergency Holographic Medical Protocol. This is an interactive computer program that can oversee the most delicate surgeries and continue the teaching the Kelly will need in order to keep the crew healthy. I modeled the EHMP after “The Doctor” on Star Trek Voyager. However, I didn’t want him to become a character himself or it would risk taking away Kelly’s role in this series. The EHMP is a program and nothing more.

I also introduced Lieutenant Travis David in this chapter. His role is light but is important as he plays a pivotal role in Sedition. In this chapter, I give Kelly an opportunity to flex her muscles. I don’t like to write damsel in distress. I also don’t want her to be at the same level as Gretchen, but I want her to hold her own. She gets to do that in this chapter.

Chapter 4: It’s time to take a look inside the head of Marvin. He blames himself for not saving those in the engineering station when the ship was being attacked. His lack of military experience and his self-proclaimed failure under pressure, leaves him weak in front of his chargers. I placed him in a room with Commander Reid so he could have a sounding board to help him work through his issues.

Commander Reid is kind of the quiet leader during this period of time for the ship. Captain Avery seems to be on a death wish, the crew is being insubordinate so certain leaders, and now he’s playing therapist to Marvin Kent. I like seeing this role for Commander Reid as it helps set him apart from Captain Avery and also builds credibility to his leadership skills.

Chapter 5: Chapter 2 hinted at Captain Avery’s plans to capture the enemy ship for parts, and this chapter puts those plans into motion. This is also the chapter where Michael asserts himself as Captain Avery’s right hand man and puts his captain in his place. I knew for Commander Reid to become a believable first officer, he was going to need to flex his muscles. The argument between these two men is the point in which this happens.

TRIVIA: The question needs to be asked, “Why not just take the working ship and abandon the broken ship?” The answer: While I don’t disclose it in any of the books, the reason behind saving the Independence is that the Captain still believes he can get the crew and ship, home. With Marvin on board, there is a good chance that the young man can find a way to rebuild the Deep Space Drive – just in case the E.S.S. Freedom cannot come and rescue them. The design of the Independence is the only design that can support the Deep Space Drive technology.

Chapter 6: This is the point where Marvin Kent seals his place as part of the leadership of this crew. As I mentioned earlier, this book is about reclaiming what was lost. The onslaught was a grave violation on the crew of this ship. Each one is dealing with that violation in different ways. Some are rising, some are falling, and others are plotting. In real life, when we deal with tragedy, we all come out of that tragedy as a different person. Chapter 6 continues the theme of reclamation as we see Marvin relate to his men and women and assert himself as their commanding officer.

Chapter 7: Commander Reid leads the assault on the tow ship and they quickly discover that the Empire has a presence on this ship as well. It isn’t the easy hijacking that they had planned for. During these events, I introduce Lieutenant Grant Gustafson, who will become Commander Reid’s personal ally and I also introduce Buckley and Rogers.

Buckley and Rogers seem like insignificant characters at first, but there is more to them. They display some of the changing attitudes of the crew. There is a lack of respect for those in leadership positions and these two display that in their actions. Furthermore, they also show a lust for vengeance, which is secretly boiling beneath the surface of many members of the crew. Neil discovers this first hand.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8 was about making things click into place. The tow ship provides everything they need to repair Independence and the situation was perfect to give them a way to transfer the engine of the tow ship to the Independence. I wanted to make this nice and tidy so people didn’t ask the question that I mentioned in the trivia above.

TRIVIA: Reclamation provides the setup for Sedition, the next book in Wild Space Series One. As I was writing this book, I hadn’t yet dreamed up the idea of the EUSF Intelligence and Security Division. As I introduced Rogers in Chapter 8, I developed his backstory and for the first time, deviated from my initial outlines and created the idea of the ISD.

Chapter 9: Up to this point, I really hadn’t dealt with one major issue of conflict… how should Captain Avery deal with having his daughter on the ship and in harm’s way? At first, this was a safe mission of exploration, but now he is seeing that there is real danger. I included a brief exchange between Kelly and John to help tidy up this unresolved issue.

As this chapter drew to an end, it was time for the Empire to strike again. This time, the crew was ready and Captain Avery had an opportunity to show his skills in commanding a vessel. This is a redemption chapter.

TRIVIA: In this book, I introduced the next in a long line of pilots for the ship. While it isn’t evident to most readers, my helmsmen are the “Red Shirts” of this series.

Chapter 10: Captain Avery sends out a distress message to Star Fleet to let them know that they are alive and needing rescue. From the very beginning, I knew that I would never allow them to be rescued, but I wanted readers to believe that there was some hope for this wounded crew. I also decided to play with the sexual tension between Lieutenant Markson and Captain Avery. The two are professional officers, how will this play out?

I wanted Captain Avery to maintain his integrity, yet I wanted to introduce an element that could cause him to cross the line. Gretchen Markson is that element. I made sure to reestablish that tension in the closing pages of book 2.

Epilogue: Here is the setup for Wild Space: Sedition. I hinted at the ISD through the thoughts of Lieutenant Ryan Thornberg. He is attempting to build a crew to help him overthrow the captain. Thornberg is using the anger inside the crew to gain their loyalty to his cause – though they don’t really realize that he is only using them as pawns to complete his larger objective.

Wild Space: Reclamation, is at its core, a story about the internal struggles of the crew after having to deal with a near death experience. How do they rebuild their lives after such trauma? How do they reclaim the elements of themselves that were lost in all that destruction? These are the questions that are asked at the beginning of the book and we see answered by the end.

Maybe I’m alone here, but Pronoun is not a company whose name I was familiar with until a month ago when it was announced that Macmillan purchased them. Since then, I’ve spent some quality time examining Pronoun to see if they would make a good eBook distributer.

After taking them for a test drive, I’m ready to reveal my findings.

Pronoun offers some very intriguing tools when you go through the setup of publishing your book.

Pronoun offers a “Cover Comparison” tool that allows you to compare your cover with the covers of books found in your category. This tool has great value. As I was loading Wild Space: Onslaught , I discovered how lacking my covers were in comparison to the covers of other books in my category. I immediately went to work in correcting this issue and I’ve already seen an improvement in book sales.
When you upload your book to Pronoun, they take your finished manuscript and format it into an ePub file and Mobi file and give you six options for a professional layout that looks sharp on eReaders. The only thing I had to do to format my book for this service is to highlight the chapter headings and insert page breaks. The rest was done flawlessly through Pronoun. They also developed the table of contents for me. Very nice.
When selecting categories to place your book, Pronoun gives you the stats from Amazon’s site and shows you the rankings of how similar books published through them, performs on Amazon’s Kindle Store. This is valuable and leads into point four…
When you begin picking your keywords, Pronoun gives you the top-ranking keywords from Amazon’s Kindle Store – based on your selected category. They share the penetration rate, and show you how popular that keyword is with customer search. This data is priceless… and free through Pronoun.
If you wish to distribute your book to Amazon through Pronoun, Pronoun gives you the option to set your book at free and Amazon honors that request. This beats having to play the price match game with Amazon. While I’m not currently taking advantage of this feature, I will be doing it in the future.
Pronoun distributes your book to Kindle (if you choose to publish through KDP yourself, Pronoun will promote your Kindle link on your Pronoun book page), Nook, Kobo, iBooks, and GooglePlay. You have the freedom to choose who you wish to have Pronoun distribute your book to with no penalty or pressure. For me, I currently use Pronoun to distribute to iBooks and GooglePlay. The rest I do myself through their respective sites.
Pronoun provides a slick service to send your finished eBook out to prospective reviewers. They provide download links for the ePub file and Mobi file (Kindle) that are easy for reviewers to go to and download their format of choice. Again, this is a free service and you can send out unlimited emails to all your potential reviewers.
Pronoun pays authors 70% royalty rates on all titles priced at $0.99 – $9.99 and 65% for books priced over $10. While those numbers sound great, you need to remember that Pronoun is now the middleman in your journey. This means that if you sell your book for $0.99, the retailer (Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, GooglePlay, iBooks) is going to take their cut first, from that 99 cents. Then the remaining balance will be sent to Pronoun and Pronoun will take 30% from that number and you get the remaining 70%. I still publish directly to Kobo, Nook, and Kindle, so I can’t tell you what my profits are after they take their cut. But with iBooks and GooglePlay, for every 99 cent book I sell, I get approximately $0.46 per book sold – which if it measures up to Kindle, is almost 10 cents more per sale.
When you price your book, Pronoun shows you how your list price stacks up with other similar titles in your category. Most companies are offering this now, but I just wanted to point out that Pronoun is doing this also.
Pronoun provides every author with a slick landing page for their books and for themselves as an author. I don’t personally use mine, but I set it up as it is one more valuable way for people to discover me and my books on the web.
Like all other publishing platforms, Pronoun allows you to keep all your rights and keep all control over your titles. You can pull your titles from Pronoun at any time. Another added bonus is when you adjust your prices or modify your files, the changes go live within 48 hours on all sites.
Finally, Pronoun offers pre-orders for your books through all services. I’ve never had much success with pre-orders, but the option is there for authors who do like it.

Pronoun puts authors back in control of every aspect of their title. If you need help in getting your book published, they have many options to help you connect with people that can help you realize your vision and keep all your rights.

All in all, I’m impressed with Pronoun and I can’t think of anything negative at this point except that they are a middleman. But I find a middleman is great to have when working with iBooks (because they require a Mac to publish books on their site) and GooglePlay (because I have found them to be inconsistent when trying to publish an eBook through them directly). It also gives me a free pricing option that is in my control if I use them to publish to Kindle.

Their interface is well planned out and the uploading is a breeze. The bonus features that I highlighted above make publishing an eBook a simple process with added marketing value.

While I’m not planning on making any distribution changes with my books currently in print, I am planning on releasing my future eBooks through Pronoun exclusively so I will have complete pricing control over my books. Doing price matching through Amazon has been a pain lately as they randomly switch my first book back to full price at odd ball times and then I have to price match again. With Pronoun, I can control when I want my book to go free on Amazon and Amazon will honor it.

In my opinion, Pronoun puts authors back in control of their works – something I feel Amazon has been slowly taking away from their authors. As I mentioned in my last post, I have long been a fan of Kindle Direct Publishing, but I’m tired of being forced to do things their way. Kindle only lets you promote your book for free for 5 days in a 90-day period as long as you make your book exclusive to them. If you wish to work the permafree angle, you need to get their cooperation – and that has been hit or miss for many of us authors.

Is Pronoun a good eBook distribution option? I say yes. I’m on board with them and I invite you to visit their website and see what they have to offer.

PLEASE NOTE: I AM NOT receiving any compensation from Pronoun for my review. I AM NOT receiving any affiliate compensation if you visit their site. I am offering my own, honest opinion of Pronoun and its services based on my personal experiences.

Here’s a question that every self-published author needs to ask themselves in 2017: Is it time to leave Amazon KDP Select and diversify? As 2016 came to an end, I asked myself that very question, and here’s my discovery.

I started releasing my serial series Wild Space back in May of 2016. I decided to make them Kindle exclusive, so I signed up for KDP Select or Kindle Direct Publishing Select for those not familiar with the term. KDP Select forces your book to be only available on Amazon’s website for purchase or to be part of their Kindle Unlimited reader program for 90 days. After 90 days, you can choose to keep them in KDP Select or you can pull them out. But during this period of time, your books cannot be available for purchase anywhere else.

I had great success with the first 90 days of KDP Select, however, as I re-enrolled for another 90 days, I suddenly found my sales and page reads falling flat. I tried a few marketing techniques to get them fired up again, but I just couldn’t get the ball rolling again. So I asked myself, is it time to break free from KDP Select and try something new?

In October, I selected to not re-enroll my books in KDP Select. Immediately, any momentum in sales or page reads I had, disappeared completely – even though I had one month left in exclusivity. I’m not saying that Amazon stuck it to me, because I’m a small fish in a big pond – but I did notice an instant loss of sales and page reads when I chose not to renew my KDP Select contract.

Coincidence? Probably. But for the record, I’m not the only person to have noticed this.

As November rolled around, I started to set up my books on Smashwords (for distribution to libraries), on Pronoun (for distribution on iBooks and GooglePlay), on Kobo, and on Nook Press. The second the books came off exclusivity through Amazon KDP Select, I was ready to launch the books on the other platforms and start a new journey. Granted, I had no idea what to expect, but I was ready to go. I set the first book up as free and the rest at 99 cents and I was off to the races in December.

As the new voyage into diversifying my books began, I noticed that my Kindle sales were non-existent but immediately, my Nook sales took off. For every five free books that were acquired by Nook readers, three of those readers came back and purchased the rest of the series. I was shocked at this result. I have read all the reports that said that Nook is dead, yet my Nook sales were doing what Kindle hadn’t done. By the end of December, I had sold more books through Nook than I did through KDP Select.

Now, I’m not saying that this will ring true for all authors, but these are my results. Sales on iBooks, Smashwords, and Kobo haven’t impressed me at all, but Nook sales blew my mind. I was getting solid results.

Another thing I saw was the return on investment.

I set up the first book in the Wild Space series to be permafree and the rest at 99 cents. For those not familiar with the term permafree – permafree is the act of setting your book up on a site that allows you to set your price at free and then asking Amazon to price match the book at free. On Nook, I found that for every 5 free books, 3 readers would return and purchase the rest of the series. On Kindle, for every 15 to 20 free books, only 1 reader would come back and trickle through the rest of the series.

So why is that?

I don’t have sales data to back up my theory, but I believe that Kindle readers are used to snagging free books and most of the time they sit on them – perhaps never even reading them. I’m a Kindle user and I can attest to that. My library is packed with free books I’ve never read.

Meanwhile, Nook hasn’t had the same amount of attention paid to it by independent authors. While Kindle Direct Publishing has soared, Nook and the others have been vastly ignored… which may make it an untapped potential. There are not nearly as many authors giving away their books for free on Nook as there are on Kindle, so the Nook readers find more value in those free books and may very well read them.

Another theory I have is that Kindle readers are converting to subscription based reading and are purchasing far fewer books. When I weigh the difference between sales on Kindle and sales on Nook, I am far better giving up my exclusivity and branching out to other platforms, because my sales on the other platforms are destroying the few sales and reads I was getting on Select.

I’m thrilled with the results I’ve found in diversifying. I don’t miss KDP. I’m finding a new audience that I would have never found had I not taken the chance and diversified.

Is this the right move for you?

I’m not sure. But maybe its time to experiment and find out. If you are exclusive on Amazon and haven’t been impressed with your sales, let your KDP Select expire and branch out for a few months and see what happens. If the results don’t impress you, go back to KDP Select and have the piece of mind in knowing that you are right where you need to be.

When I started my self publishing journey in 2009, I was sold on being exclusive through Amazon, but now I am convinced that every author needs to weigh their options and look at the possibility of branching out to other platforms.

You might just find – like me – that it’s time to see if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. I have found that it is.

As the Launch Week Celebration comes to an end, I’m excited to discuss one of the greatest improvements to the series… the new cover designs featuring Imperial Battleships.

I know this week is all about the launch of Wild Space: Transformations, but it’s hard to ignore the sparkling new covers.

When Wild Space: Onslaught first launched in May of 2016, the cover featured a serene background with a happy little ship just floating along. But for anyone who has read Onslaught, you already know that the cover didn’t even come close to telling the reader what was about to happen in the book. That has long been one of my disappointments.

But now, thanks to the 3D models provided by Ghosts and made that cover pop as well. With the new-found ability to enhance the action on the covers of my books, the skies the limit as my covers now have the ability to tell a story to draw in potential readers.

As I get ready to begin work on Wild Space: Series 2, I already have plans to debut more Imperial ships, a new “hero” ship, and a wicked new enemy that will be bringing its own fleet to the party.

So, this has been an exciting week for me with big changes that are setting Wild Space up for a bright future. While Transformations brings to an end the first series of Wild Space, there are many more adventures coming, and at long last, the Imperial Fleet will be right there, chasing them across the stars.

Until next time!

The Launch Week Celebration Continues!

It’s been an exciting week for me as Wild Space: Transformations launched on Tuesday and has been selling like crazy.

But it’s not just the sales that have been so exhilarating for me. It’s also the new covers that grace the front of all six books in the first series of Wild Space. I spoke about the new ship design in a BLOG POST earlier this week and now I would like to officially announce the new looks of all six titles.

When I first released Wild Space, I purchased an image of a space ship to be used on the covers. However, I was very limited on what I could do with that image. I wanted to have explosive scenes on the covers. I wanted to be able to display a ship with the ability to be as iconic as the Enterprise or Serenity or the Millennium Falcon, but the ship I was using, just didn’t have that potential.

And then I discovered SolCommand, a website made up of hard working designers who give away 3D images of ships to game designers or artists. It was here that I found the designs for not just the Independence, but my Imperial fleet and many other ships that will one day grace the covers of my books.

Granted, I still had to paint the 3D images, but it was well worth the time to learn how to do it. For the first time ever, I have covers on my books that tell a story, and that is what a good cover should do.

The following images are the before and afters of all six books. Take a look at the huge difference:

Wild Space: Onslaught

Before

 

After

Wild Space: Reclamation

Before

 

After

Wild Space: Sedition

 

Before

After

Wild Space: Ghosts

 

Before

After

Wild Space: Heist

 

Before

After

Wild Space: Transformations

 

Before

After

As you can see, the covers have immensely improved! I love the new look and I love the idea that at long last, the Imperial Battle Ships can appear on the cover with the Independence – giving readers a chance to see how stacked against them, the odds of survival really are.

I have more ships cooking up on the burner and they will grace the covers of Wild Space Series 2 and beyond. Watch my blog post as I’ll be sharing those images in the days to come.

If you haven’t already begun your journey through Wild Space, be sure to pick up the first book in the series. Wild Space: Onslaught is FREE for all eReaders. If you subscribe to my monthly newsletter, you can pick up the second book for FREE as well. SUBSCRIBE HERE to claim your free copy of Wild Space: Reclamation.

I’ll be wrapping up the Launch Week Celebration with one more post as I look at the long awaited reveal of the Imperial Battle Ships.

See you then!

As many of you already know, Wild Space: Transformations has at last, launched. It was a long journey and I thank all my readers for being patient as I put the final touches on the grand finale to the first series of Wild Space.

Many readers have asked me what the deal is with calling this the Series 1 finale.

What Does That Mean?

As I’ve mentioned before, I am writing Wild Space as if it were a television series. Each book is short with the intention of being able to be read in just a few hours – much like a television show. I also decided to break up the series into a set number of books – or episodes. In this case, each series of Wild Space will be comprised of 6 books – or episodes.

Onslaught served as the first book, or in television terms – the series premier episode. Transformations is serving as the series 1 finale, or in television terms – the season finale. Due to the unbelievable response from readers, Wild Space will be back for a second series before the end of the year. In fact, it will probably be back much sooner than I had anticipated.

I never imagined I’d have the amount of success with Wild Space as I have had. Readers are gobbling this series up and it has forced me to put many of my other projects on hold. I do want to finish up two books that I have in process, but I also don’t want to slow the momentum created by the success of Wild Space, so I’m guessing those projects might continue to be on hold while I go back to work in crafting the second series for the hungry readers out there.

I can’t thank you enough for all your enthusiasm. Please, continue to spread the word about this series and I will continue to pump out the books.

Changes Ahead!

As I discussed in my blog post on Monday, Wild Space: Transformations is sporting a new Independence. I had an opportunity to revamp the ship and gain more flexibility in cover design, so I took it. I’m super excited by the new look and I’m already receiving feedback from other readers about the exciting new look.

Transformations is a book about changes in the lives of the crew and in the trajectory of Wild Space. Wild Space isn’t just about the crew of the Independence. While to this point, everything we’ve experienced in this region of space has been through their eyes, the glorious part about this series is, I can introduce new characters and share their adventures. This is something I did with Captain Miranda Waters.

Most readers probably forgot about her after her few appearances early on, but after Transformations, I can guarantee readers are going to want to know more about her. In fact, I have an exclusive short coming out that will bridge the gap between Transformations and Book 1 of Wild Space Series 2. I’m going to make it an exclusive title for subscribers to my monthly eNewsletter. So, if you want access to this short story, titled; Kill Switch, you need to SUBSCRIBE TO MY NEWSLETTER and I will send it to you as soon as its ready to go.

Transformations gave me the opportunity to tie up loose ends for Series 1.

At long last, readers will get some much needed answers to the questions raised in Wild Space: Sedition and I will be tying up some other loose ends. But get ready for some major set ups for the future of the series. Captain Avery and the crew of the Independence have had nothing but one trial after another since arriving in Wild Space, and you better believe that when this book is over, their lives will never be the same. When the final cards are played, you’ll completely understand the title of this book.

It feels good to finally bring Series 1 to an end. Transformations was supposed to be released back in December of 2016, but revisions forced me to push the launch back. At long last, I am getting a chance to reveal the secrets that have been hidden from readers and now I get to set up the future of the series. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed telling the tale.

As the Launch Week Celebration continues, I will be blogging next, about the Imperial ships which will now be appearing of the redesigned covers of the Wild Space series. You can visit the BOOKS tab on my website and take a look at the new covers.

Until the next post, Happy Reading!

 

Welcome to the Launch Week Celebration for Wild Space: Transformations. All week long, I will be blogging about exciting topics that revolve around the Wild Space series. I hope you’ll join me all week as I blog about the series and go behind the scenes to reveal exciting details that have gone into making this new book.

The first detail I’m going to discuss is probably one of the most obvious.

You might have noticed a not-so-familiar ship gracing the cover of Wild Space: Transformations. What ship is this that is exploding before your very eyes? This is the Independence of course – a new and improved Independence.

The Independence has officially received an upgrade and she makes her debut in Wild Space: Transformations. She is also going to be gracing the covers of the other five books in the first series. On release day (March 7th, 2017), all six covers will feature the redesigned co-star of the Wild Space series.

When I released Wild Space: Onslaught, I had a designer create 1 digital drawing of a ship that became my sole model for the creation of the book covers for Wild Space Series 1. However, I was never really happy with this design and I didn’t have much flexibility when posing the ship. The most I could do was turn it this way or that way or flip the image around so it appeared to be flying in a different direction.

But three weeks ago, I discovered a wonderful website: SolCommand.com that offered free, 3D model images that I have been able to customize to my liking. Furthermore, I can edit the 3D model with Windows 3D and then put it into PhotoShop and pose it for new, dramatic angles to create exciting covers.

SolCommand also gave me the ability to add more ships on my book covers and create explosive scenes. As I will be discussing later on this week, I was able to create an Imperial Battleship which will now be seen on the covers of Onslaught, and Ghosts, and select installments of Series 2 when those books begin launching later this year.

This Independence at last matches the realities of what I describe in my book. The Independence is built to house a crew of nearly 200 – depending on the needs of the mission. It also uses three forms of propulsion.

Thrusters were an original design on the ship to be used for moving into orbit around a planet or for maneuvering through space.
There is the Interplanetary Jump Drive which is the main drive that helps the crew navigate between planets in travels that can last for a few weeks.
Finally, there is the Deep Space Drive – which is designed to travel vast distances and cut down a 20 year journey between Earth’s United System of Planets and Wild Space. This was the engine that was destroyed in Onslaught.

The original model of the Independence never looked big enough to be able to house all of these features, but this design makes my vision come to life.

So, you might be asking yourself, “Why go through all the trouble of developing a new model to serve as the Independence, only to blow it up in Wild Space: Transformations?”

That is a really great question.

Be sure to read Transformations to discover the answer. Wild Space: Transformations, releases tomorrow, March 7th, 2017 at midnight.

I’ll be back tomorrow to continue the week long Launch Week Celebration with a blog post looking at the making of Wild Space: Transformations – without spoilers. Be sure to follow me on Facebook so you know when the post goes live.

Until then…

After a brutal few months of election coverage, I’ve done my best to avoid keeping up with the news because frankly, I’m burned out of negative press and the insults thrown at supporters for something other than a progressive movement. So for the past few weeks I’ve been focused on my writing and reading up on the self-publishing industry, and all in all, my mood has been improving. But then I read an article by Laurie Gough in the HuffPost, titled Self-Publishing: An Insult to the Written Word, and I find myself insulted and angry once again.

For everyone out there who has self published, and for anyone thinking about self publishing, PLEASE, don’t let foolish people like Laurie Gough put doubt in your mind and cause you to pull back on your publishing dream. This naive woman has no idea what it’s like to self publish a book and go through all the hoops that one must go through to net your first reader and keep your books selling. Like many in the publishing industry, she has been sold a lie that agents and major publishing houses are the gatekeepers, and her little lips just open up and spew the same lie out over and over as she did in this article.

There are two things that really bother me about this article.

First, this article belittled everyone who writes passionately and publishes their books on their own with hopes of making a living off of it. We have a love of writing and sharing our thoughts and ideas with the readers. We are passionate about what we do and we pour our heart and our own hard earned money into book covers, editing services, marketing programs, all in order to get our book into the hands of readers who will share with us our enjoyment of a good story or the learning of life lessons.

There are many self published authors out there who are making a living off self publishing their works. They left their 9 to 5 job and only focus on writing and publishing. They made their dreams come true and some of them have more credibility than Laurie Gough and probably make more off their books than her.

Now, I’m not saying that there are not hack jobs in the self publishing world, because there are. But to label every author who self publishes as a hack because they didn’t do it “her way” is a vicious jab. It doesn’t take a publisher to create a best selling novel. It takes a writer who is determined to write a best seller. It doesn’t take someone who has apprenticed (as she puts it) or studied in college. It takes a person who has an eye for detail and a determination to bring their vision to life in print. If you are willing to put in the work to write a good book, you can make a living off it through self publishing, or at the very least, see your dream come to life through self publishing.

Apparently, Laurie didn’t spend time researching before writing her article because had she done that, she would have found a number of classical writers who were self published before being published by a publishing house. Mark Twain would be at the top of that list, and I would guess that people will still be buying and reading his books long after her books go out of print and are forgotten on the shelf of a Goodwill store.

The second issue that I have with Laurie Gough’s article is the idea that the publishing world needs gatekeepers. She, like many others in the “professional” publishing industry seem to believe the lie that traditional publishing is some sort of gatekeeper that protects readers from garbage books. The sad fact is, that Laurie and all those other like minded liars don’t understand that the real gatekeepers are not the publishing industry, or agents, or editors, but are the readers.

Readers are the gatekeepers. They always have been and always will be.

What the publishing industry has done is be a barrier between the reader and the author. They decided who could be in their clubhouse and who could not and therefore, readers, for many years, were limited to only what the publishing industry would allow, and in turn, many voices that are out there today, never had a chance to be heard before the self publishing revolution. Self publishing opened the door for every writer with a story to tell, to be heard. And those with a solid voice are embraced by the reader and their books sell.

Brad Thor, another misguided soul, said that, “The important role that publishers fill is to separate the wheat from the chaff.” That sad statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. The READER determines the wheat from the chaff. If the writing is good, the reader will buy the books and share with their friends about the book. It’s why we have best sellers and total flops in both the traditionally published market and the self published market.

If the changing self publishing market has taught us anything, it’s that the writers who hone their craft and work hard at it will sell books and survive. And those looking to make a quick buck and scam the system will drift away. The correct statement Brad should have made was, “The important role that READERS fill is to separate the wheat from the chaff.” And the readers do.

The readers are the gatekeepers. Publishing houses just get in the way.

Maybe Laurie’s goal was to stir up controversy in hopes of generating new buzz about her, and in turn, netting some more sales. But in the process, what she has done, is insulted millions of American’s and thrashed the dreams of others. She is one more voice who bullies people’s dreams because she is too narrow minded to see a bigger picture.

So for those who are self publishing and have felt like Laurie Gough’s article was a dagger to the heart, just let it slide off your back. She doesn’t have a true understanding of what art is and she doesn’t have a true regard for readers. If she did, she’d give them more credit for the role they play as the true gatekeeper.

For those who were considering self publishing but are now on the fence thanks to her scolding article, again, let it slide off your back. There are billions of readers out there. Many of them will embrace your work if you put in the hard work and effort that is required in self publishing your work. You have that book in you, don’t stop pursuing your dreams because a bully tossed you against the lockers. Get to work and get it to print.

Don’t let the Laurie Gough’s of this world pounce on your dreams.