Ta Da

Big, bright and beautiful. A nice new banner to herald my new novel. Terrific artwork by Lois to fit the story. I’ll have an excerpt up as soon as I can figure out how to add it to this website. This banner was created by the designers at my publisher Westbow Press.

I’ve checked a few online stores and Beginnings (hardcover and paperback) is available online at Chapters/Indigo, Amazon, Fishpond, Abebooks and MightyApe. Varying pricing. Not sure where the ebook is yet, but it will be available soon.

Along the path

Well, there I was out on the pathway today and saw Paddlewheelersomething that wasn’t new but really where I spotted it was new to me. The sight of Heritage Park’s paddle wheeler S.S. Moyie near the southern shore of the Glenmore reservoir lake caught my attention. Usually the vessel cruises over closer to Heritage Park.

I mentioned yesterday pathways reveal things and I thought back to our adventures in the Yukon Territory some 42 years ago. (golly, that long ago!) when we marvelled over the S.S.Tutshi paddle-wheeler in dry dock at Carcross. That vessel  was built in 1917 and restored about the time we were there. Sadly this queen of romantic Yukon history  was lost to fire in 1990. Remnants remain today.  The steamboat had such a big impact on us that we named our dog Tutshi. Sadly, he died too. Other examples of the steamboat era remain at Whitehorse (S.S. Klondike), Dawson City (S.S. Keno) and original and real S.S. Moyie at Kaslo in BC.

With that memory of today’s pathway I thought about the treasures we find in books. Take my novel Finding Dermot for instance. That story takes the reader from Canada to a magnificent city in New Zealand (New Plymouth) with its surf beaches, mountain and great bush walks, to one of the remotest villages in the country (Whangamomona) as well as a frozen winter in Antarctica’s truly wonderful and remote Wright Dry Valley and Lake Vanda. I weaved the story of Dermot and his strange adventure around those places.

The novel is available in all the online bookstores around the world in hard cover, paperback and ebook versions.

Pick up a copy, travel and enjoy the stroll along the reader’s “pathway.”

 

Adventurers — Part 3

“Whether it be a movie about a rat who pursues his dream to become a chef (Ratatouille), or a quixotic idea to change my relationship with food, or just a desire at the age of 60 to inject some passion into my life, I was ready for an adventure.”

So writes Bob Foulkes of Vancouver in his book Adventures with Knives. Surviving 1000 hours in Culinary School (French Apple Press).  Also available through Chapters.

I recently reconnected with Bob, a  former colleague and true pal, only to discover that he’s fully embraced an adventurous life and published a couple of books about what he’s been up to since our paths last crossed some 13 years ago.  This month we exchanged books. My Tide Cracks and Sastrugi for his first book Adventures with Knives  and my Finding Dermot for his Off The Couch and Out The Door.  Bob has become the consummate adventurer and he talks about his journey in a very easy and thoroughly engaging style. He’s a pro writer from a similar career to myself.Foulkes

Knives is difficult to lay aside for such mundane things as shaving or eating lunch. It goes really well though with coffee and leads the reader into the inner world of chefdom, the training, the discipline and the amazing advantages of cooking from scratch.  I learned about French cooking, presentation and style. All the while there’s the ever present dangers of contamination and yes, what about those knives. “We are five-thumbed, knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing incompetents when we try to duplication his (chef’s) demonstration. I am paying sizeable chunks of money to be told how to cut a carrot  to look like a little football… but I’m determined. The knife isn’t the problem.”

For several evenings after supper Lois and I would have Bob readings and laughed aloud as we worked through his 1000 hours of culinary school.

Knives is an fun read of a man’s adventure into the world of a student in a place we all know — the kitchen.

 

 

It’s Fun Being A Dad.

I wrote this in my weekly column in June 1981 while Publisher of Alberta’s Fort McMurray TODAY daily newspaper. It just came to light this week as we were ratting through a box of old papers. It brought a big smile as I recalled these heady days and compared with today, 33 years later. Our daughters are now older than I was when I wrote it! They are true treasures and valued friends.

* * *

 It’s great fun being a dad. But man, can you get yourself into a lot of hot water as the kids put you through their paces. There are hearty laughs, hearty aches and peaceful moments of joy with lots of good memories.
I think that, if in five years time I find myself on the open job market one qualification, on my resume might be: we raised three daughters.
How many potential employers would recognize that as a talent? Very few probably, because they don’t know the individual players of our team in this sparkling prime time life series.
Back in the early days of our marriage I remember my wife and I, as a very young couple, deciding that children would be a good addition to our lives; that we should enter the realm of parenthood young and “grow up with our kids.”
Great idea. Trouble is somewhere along the way there was a switch.
They are now growing up with us.
Now and again the girls in my life get a little ahead of the greying, balding dude who sits at the end of the dinner table providing off-the-cuff lectures at will on just about any subject dealing with tumultuous teenage times.
The Redhead is now far from home but she left her mark on the family nest.
Quaint phrases like: “Oh, Father…” (very disgustedly); “Yes, father…(very tiredly); “We know, Father…” (very condescendingly); “Uh huh, father…” (let’s-avoid-a-lecture tone); “You’re impossible, Father…” (very matter of factly); “Ohhh, Dads…” (very loving I want something tone); “Okey dokey Dads…” (very agreeable, something’s up tone); and just plain “Father…” (bossingly); “Father…” (questioningly) and “Father…” (dumbly).
It was her who passed on to her younger sisters techniques for avoiding what she herself titled “Dad’s Lectures.” These include hair washing, showering, convenient telephone calls, (are these prearranged?) flapping eyelids, a sudden desire to help their mother or clean their room, and just plain stomping off.
The Redhead also passed down the areas in which she considered her father to be famous in. In offbeat moods of teenage authority she would decide that her father possessed qualities that might outfit him for every profession and trade imaginable. Very flattering, possibly but unfortunately the dear child has inherited a touch of cynicism from somewhere that her dad is really just a gentle old windbag.
And so, after helping her through the period of life where child departs and adult emerges you would think this dad would be an “expert” on teenage daughters.
Not on your Nellie.
It compounds.
New ground has to be broken. The playing field is different. The same authoritative gestures no longer apply. This time we have a very strong willed and determined lass who is a master (sorry, mistress) of the faceoff.
She also has a streak not so apparent in the first edition: her father is not the only man in her life.
Rats!
How do you deal with dating daughters? Avoid hassles? Keep the lines of communication open? Avoid the generation gap? No matter how much you understand you just don’t understand.
And when it comes down to the wire very often it is dad who has to change and the child (sorry, daughter) who has to understand. Let go dad, I often remind myself.
A new vocabulary and phrase book is being written. It includes words like curfew and party and phrases like time out and time in. How are you travelling? Who are you going with? Why don’t you stay in tonight? Is it necessary to study together? Is your rnakeup on properly?
I find that it is almost necessary to make appointments to keep in touch (best done when she is wandering around the house in a cowboy hat). A parent has to change here. No longer can a dad assume that his daughter will be ready, willing and able to go wherever the family goes. You have to datebook these events well in advance.
A teenage girl’s calendar can be very full. There is school and its extracurricular activities; a part-time job, socializing with the guys and the gals; time flies for them. It is a whirl and you get exhausted just watching them. Whew! How do they keep up?
The week becomes a hi, bye, nice to see ya time. Dad looks forward to the weekend to have some time with the teenagers, like a gentle bit of cross-country skiing. But for the daughter there is much to do. . . busy, busy, busy.
How often does she chirrup, with a big smile “sorry Dads, have to run, maybe later or tomorrow. . . I have to go now.”
And she is gone. You smile. Inwardly you admire. Eyes glaze to watch a spirited young life on the move. You know the heart inside that child …you know the work that has gone into that young plant and you know it will bloom.
Which brings me to the third girl. First year as a teenager and a bundle of fun who is showing all the signs of a good education from the earlier editions plus, funnily enough, the production of her own copy of “How to Handle Dad”.
This particular book is not to be found in any bookstore. Otherwise I might have been tempted to buy it in the hope that I might be just one step ahead of the third and final edition.
The young miss has a list of telephone callers that would boggle even the tycooniest of business tycoons. She can receive more calls in an evening than all the rest of the family put together, plus the neighbors probably. And some of the perishers just don’t know when to quit calling.
And who had the bright idea of buying her a cassette recorder for Christmas, forgetting in that moment of weakness that teenyboppers like their music at a decibel rating that would freak any audiologist. They also like it on all the time and they cannot fathom why the oldies turn purple every time they turn up their favorite ditty.
And at this age there is the room. Good for a laugh (better not let your mother get into your room), good for a cry (when mother gets into the room), and good for asserting the responsibilities of parenthood (you can go when your room is done).
Teenagers lead us through all sorts of things. I remember the women’s editor of the newspaper I worked for in the Fiji Islands a few years back saying: “The time you spend and what you teach your child in the first seven is the most important part of their lives. You’ll reap rewards for these efforts later in life.
I have to go along with that, as far as girls are concerned anyway. Once a child reaches teenagedom it becomes a matter of guidance, love and friendship.
And I thank God for entrusting three girls to my care. You laugh with them, cry with them, get frustrated with them and love ’em in spite of everything.
It is fun being a dad.

 

Adventurers — Part 2

And now, in the words of Wendy Mesley (CBC National, Sunday) for story number two.  Barb Radu Sprenger is a person I had the pleasure of working with in my Mobil Canada days back in the early 90s. Her energy helped stimulate public affairs activities to keep our various communities informed. Radu

Now her real life adventure is sailing with her husband Con on their  15 metre cutter-rigged sloop Big Sky (www.sailbigsky.com). As of today they’re sailing up the Spanish coast and could be in Valencia as I write.

Barb details all of this adventure in her memoir Sailing Through Life (it’s on amazon.ca) in which she outlines those stages from the sudden and unexpected death of her husband Larry to her peripatetic lifestyle of the past seven years or so covering more than 51 countries over five continents. It’s the RV life under sail.

It is a very engaging and honest story of what Barb terms the unshakeable bond between human spirits. For many of us life on the ocean is something of dreams. Barb and Con bring it to life, not only the lifestyle, but also how they maintain their strong family links back in Calgary, Alberta.

Stay tuned for Adventurers — Part 3 in a couple of days.

Adventurers — Part 1

I fully intended to start this three part piece a few days back but I’ve been totally absorbed in a new book which I’ll profile in Adventurers Part 3.

I love adventure and it doesn’t have to be the physical go-to-far-places variety either. Adventures can be close at hand and one person who is moving her adventure into the brighter atmosphere year by year is Kim Staflund of Calgary who just a few short years ago wrote three books and launched her own fully supported self publishing company — Polished Publishing Group . I first met Kim when she called at my print shop to order some business cards for her fledgling enterprise. We’ve remained good friends and I used her company to publish my first book Tide Cracks and Sastrugi. And what an adventure that was for me into the  heady and complex world of publishing. Kim, thoroughly experienced in the business, led the way as project manager and I ended up with a very satisfactory book (yes, of adventure) that contained 130 pictures (some colour), and a wonderful index. It has sold around the world. Kim’s expertise takes a book through all the regular processes one would encounter with any traditional publisher.a5393464d79f728d35f0bced4601ed39_56wf_gq4k

Now she has produced How to Publish A Book In Canada. It takes a new author through all the steps and outlines the meanings publish speak: from editing, designing, indexing and marketing. It is an easy and friendly read, thoroughly informative and above all encouraging.

Coming in August is How To Publish A Best Selling Book  the”international” version with international copyright information written by an entertainment/intellectual property attorney out of Orange County. It also has much more detailed content regarding online selling, the various types of review copies, and the different types of editing.

So that’s story of a real life adventurer. Kim now has 13 titles in her online bookstore, including Tide Cracks and Sastrugi.

Check out the extremely full and informative website at www.polishedpublishinggroup.com.

As it was and now is

Today is a major one around our place, a biggie, a milestone we’re quite proud of. Our wedding anniversary and this is number 53. It’s a number that might be hard to get your head around and one I never envisaged at vows time way back in 1961. But, by the grace of God, here we are still laughing, still enjoying each other’s company and always looking for that next adventure. Lois and I have rolled through the ups and downs, defeats and disappointments and come through to what is really a remarkable time of life. For a giggle today I show this picture of us as newlyweds ready to fly off on our honeymoon to a beach at the top of New Zealand’s South Island. Note the grass runway, ability to pose with our baggage right under the nose of our plane, a New Zealand Airways DC3. Fun, eh. That was in New Plymouth, at what we know as the old airport with a terminal building a mere corrugated iron lean to attached to a wartime hangar. There’s more of the story in my book Tide Cracks and Sastrugi and how Lois fared on her first flight, dressed in her lovely red skirt and hat!
Honeymoon

Writer’s what?

Writer’s block comes easy when you’re immersed in sunshine, sand and the surf of many beaches. I’ve just returned back to my snowy Calgary, Canada, home after a wonderful month in that amazing place of former years, New Zealand. Yep, it was terrific. With Lois’ sister and brother we had a wee road trip up and around the Coromandel Peninsula sampling beaches and meat pies. Then a great three weeks around “our” Taranaki province coastline and hinterland.
A major part of the trip was business: to publicize and launch my novel Finding Dermot. The book is now available in two bookstores there, The BookStop Gallery (www.bookstop.co.nz)in New Plymouth, a central setting of the novel, and Adventure Books (www.adventurebooks.co.nz) in Oamaru in the South Island.
We also drove the Forgotten World Highway once more, revisiting Whangamomona, another key location for the story.

The BookStop Gallery owner, Les Marshall, did a great job with a window display of both my books.

The BookStop owner Les Marshall did a great job with a window display of both my books.

A further further display right inside the street entry.

A further further display right inside the street entry.

The local newspaper Midweeker ran a nice article profiling the book and publicizing the launch.

The local newspaper Midweeker ran a nice article profiling the book and publicizing the launch.

Let’s Read

I love books.

Books take me to places I’ve never dreamed of. Books expose me to new ideas. Books entertain and excite me. Books give me knowledge and understanding. Books, well books are let’s face it treasures in a hard (or soft) cover. They glow in the subconscious. Find a comfy chair, open a book and enjoy a chemical-free tonic for the knock-downs of life.

Yep, I love books and the people who write them.

I met a lot of folk at our sales booth at a Christmas Marketplace last November that was visited by more than 60,000 over three three-day weekends. Sadly, in discussion over my novel Finding Dermot I made the comment in a post at the time “…interesting to chat with the number of people who said they did not read, those who preferred ebooks, and the number who said they did not read fiction.” I can now add to that the people who have told me they do not have time to read.

So you can see I was totally blown away in the spend-up to Christmas when I visited (several times) my favourite bookstore here in Calgary to find extra long lineups at the checkouts. Books were literally flying off the shelves at a rate I’ve not noticed in the past.

As an author, this was so very encouraging. It means I keep going, start that new book, bring a fresh story to print, paint the pictures with words, allow the characters to speak for themselves and in doing so allow life to breathe a new perspective.

 

 

 

 

01-01-2014

Ice formDay one. And we’re off and running. Christmas has been celebrated, birthdays done and we sail  headlong and fast into a brand new year. Well, where did the last one go? Where will this one take us?

The grandchildren were over yesterday and one of them read The Serenity Prayer which I keep on my desk.

“Why don’t we say or know the rest of that prayer?” she asked. “It’s pretty good.

Many, many people know and have found new direction in the first four lines.

“God grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

And wisdom to know the difference.”

The next lines gave my grand daughter new thought:

“Living one day at a time;

Enjoying one moment at a time;

Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.”

And so it goes. With that in mind it is all we can do, one day at a time. I wrote, completed and published a novel in 2013. I plan to produce another this year. Finding Dermot (see Books) is off and running. I wonder how that will sell. I’m impressed and humbled by the comments I’m receiving. The question now is can I do it again. Check me out on 31-12-2014.

All the best for this neat new year. It started at our place with fresh snow overnight and bright blue skies.

(The full version and the original version of Reinhold Niebuhr’s prayer can be found at www.prayerfoundation.org)

 

Recovery

imageThe graders have just been by our place and done their thing in swooping the snow piles into the kerbside following the blizzard earlier in the week.  I watched out the window as first one and then another bladed their way by our frontage. I groaned when I saw the pile of traffic-hardened snow lumps  and ice pile up in a nice hill right across the entry to the driveway. Blast, I muttered, best I get out there right away and remove before it all hardens with the cool night temperatures, or if I have to get the car out in a hurry. Swaddled in clothing fit for the -20 or so temps I started carving into the hillock with the snow shovel just as the grader returned. I stepped back and the young driver lowered his blade into the pile and with one scoop cleaned the entry for me. I’m a lucky man! In return in went down the street a bit and cleaned off the hillock where the bus stops to let people on and off.

The snow business is just one more step in the recovery this week from the Spruce Meadows Christmas Marketplace. We did well overall with Tide Cracks and Sastrugi continuing to sell well, surpassing the Finding Dermot, the new book!

People seemed to prefer the real life adventures as opposed to the fictional, even though we emphasized the settings were real. Interesting to chat with the number of people who said they did not read, those who preferred ebooks, and the number who said they did not read fiction.

My task now is to get a few characters together and see where they want to take “the next book.” Feedback from early Dermot readers is very encouraging for this first edition print run. The global print on demand and ebook second edition is currently in layout and design at the publishers.

 

Christmas market

BoothWe’re into the final three days of hectic activity at Calgary’s Spruce Meadows Christmas Marketplace.  For the third year running Lois and I have a booth selling my books and Lois’ artistic creations — penguin calendars, framed penguin art prints, and yes, penguin book bags.

My two books have sold well the first two weekends of this fabulous marketplace which boasts more than 275 exhibitors spread throughout a variety of halls and kiosks. My first book Tide Cracks and Sastrugi: An Antarctic Summer in 1968-1969 continues to sell remarkably well and the new book, my novel Finding Dermot attracts attention for both personal reading and gift-giving. I’m thrilled at the attention our little booth gets and the large number of happy buyers who continue into the market with a book in their bag.