Mike Jastrzebski's Blog, page 60

Independence Day – Bristol, Rhode Island

(Photos from the Bristol, Rhode Island fireworks display, 7/3/2012)

The 4th of July. A day for parades, cookouts, and, of course, time on the water.

It’s hard to think of the 4th without acknowledging the men and women serving overseas – many of them on multiple tours – and their families back home. Differing political views or varying perspectives on the military’s various missions do not minimize the debt we owe the troops who serve. And let us not forget the vets who once served and might now pass on a fireworks display because of the memories it might trigger.  The 4th may be Independence Day, but in my mind it’s very much linked to Veterans Day and Memorial Day. So to all the troops, past and present, thank you. 

And for those of us whose lives are oriented toward the water, you might take note of the 4th of July celebration going on in Bristol, Rhode Island. Folks here know about celebrating the 4th and they’ve been at it a long time. The town’s Independence Day parade is the oldest, continuously operating July 4th parade in the nation – 227 years and running. There’s reason to celebrate, too. It might have taken place well over 200 years ago, but the locals haven’t forgotten that the British Navy bombarded the town – twice – and burned houses. 

As is tradition, the US Navy was good enough to dispatch a ship – this year, it’s the USS Carter Hall – to Bristol as part of the town’s multi-day celebration. All combined, it’s an impressive show of patriotism. The Brits may still be tweaking Argentina over the Falklands, but her Majesty’s Royal Navy knows not to mess with little Bristol, Rhode Island. 

Happy Birthday, United States. And to you revelers, keep the liquids cool, the grill warm, and be sure to point the pyrotechnics away from your fellow boaters.  

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The end is near

By Mike Jastrzebski

I’m writing this post Saturday because we are heading back to the States tomorrow and this is the last night we’ll have internet until we get back.

Yesterday we spent the day at Stranded Naked with about 1200 other boaters. Since the food and drinks were free, it meant long lines and new friends. Chris wrote about this event a couple of years ago, but you really have to see it to believe it, so I’m going to take you there.

    

    

  

And here’s how the day ended

  

 

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Heading Home

by Christine Kling

While tomorrow is the infamous Stranded Naked Party, tonight as I sit in the cockpit and watch the anchor lights blink on around the anchorage, my thoughts are on the voyage home.

Turtle photo by Tim Kling

Don’t get me wrong. I love these islands and each year when I return, it’s like a little homecoming. It’s great to see familiar faces and feel welcomed back by the folks throughout the islands, and I soak up the sight of the swimming pool aqua water, the swooping terns, and the oblivious turtles who surface for air right next to the boat.

But home is not a place to a nomad like me. Home is where I can take care of my family. Right now, my son needs me back in Lauderdale and my new little pup Barney needs to see a vet back home. And after our semi-close-encounter with Tropical Depression Debby yesterday with winds in the 25-30 range and higher in the gusts, we no longer have phone service here and I have some business I need to conduct to keep selling books and making enough money to support this family of mine.

I have absolutely fallen in love with my new little first mate. He can be the sweetest, most cuddly little fella – or a holy terror – just like any 9 month old pup. A little over a week ago when Tim and I were in Hopetown on Elbow Cay, I took my little rescue pup to a small beach. Now see, the folks at the rescue organization told me that Barney was a “runner.” That was how he ended up as a stray on the streets of Miami, and they assured me that if I ever let him off the leash, he would be gone. So, that day I took off in the dinghy with Barney and I saw this little strip of white sand that would only be visible at low tide. It was backed by sharp, black limestone rock and dense bush and fronted by the pale water of the Sea of Abaco. I’d had this dog for a month by this time, so I took a risk and I let him off the leash – and he took off running at what looked like about 50 MPH straight down to where the beach ended between the steep rock and the water. He stopped, turned around and ran full tilt with sand flying behind him all the way to the other end of the beach. He did this about 5 or 6 times. He was the perfect illustration of the saying, “Freedom is intoxicating.” On his 7th lap or so, he didn’t stop at the end of the beach, but rather took off wading in the shallows and rounded the corner of the island. It took some mighty quick maneuvering in the dinghy to fetch him and bring him back.

Barney is making himself at home on the boat

By late the next day, one of Barney’s eyes was swollen shut. He was like a sick baby all day, listless, pawing at his eye and crying. So, the following day, Tim and I headed to Marsh Harbor so Tim could fly home and I could take Barney to a vet there. It was brutally hot and I carried him through the dusty streets trying to follow directions I’d heard that morning on the daily Cruisers’ Net. The vet had one patient ahead of us, but when he called us into his office and heard about the complaint, he suggested the pup had got some sand in his eye on his freedom dash. The vet put some florescent drops in the eye to check for scratches on the cornea (none) and sent me off with a prescription for some steroid/ antibiotic drops. The problem appeared two days later – when I was putting the drop in his eye, I noticed it looked just like my old dog who had developed cataracts.

I’m afraid I may have damaged my pup’s vision. He still sees well enough to climb onto the galley counter and stick his head into a pot of spaghetti like he did last night, but his eye doesn’t look right. I’ve decided to sail for home and get him to my own vet.

Maybe I’m worrying too much, but I am ready to get back to Lauderdale and back to work at writing my next novel. It’s far too easy to play over here. I did finish the formatting of Wreckers’ Key, the final book in the Seychelle Sullivan series, and it should go live on Amazon in the next day or two. Through Saturday, I’m offering book #3 Bitter End for free on Amazon’s Kindle Store.

Fair winds!

Christine

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Preparations…

C.E. Grundler

I’m a bit behind schedule today, but that’s mostly because my schedule, once again, is non-stop. I’ve been going since 4:30 a.m. … okay, technically 5:00, if you want to count actually functioning as opposed to merely waiting for the caffeine to kick in. It’s another one of those days with more to do than I have day to do it in, but such is my life.

As for the primary task at hand, it involves prepping to wrap up the final fiberglass work within the salon. It’s one of those big-scary jobs, the sort that once you start, there’s no turning back. Every last detail must be in place and waiting, because as the saying goes, once it’s mixed, resin waits for no one. And laying up three successive layers of glass on a very contoured overhead surface… well… that just adds to the challenge.

Last weekend was spent very meticulously discussing, planning and diagramming every detail. Measuring distances and profiles, debating various approaches to fiberglass lay-up. Which pieces overlap where, in what order they’ll go up and how we’ll go about it. Below, the ribs, now with filets faired out and sanded.

Then crunching all those numbers and measurements into a roadmap of sizes and layup order…

Then once again verifying that every last number is absolutely correct, so I could begin cutting 20+ yards of fiberglass cloth into various boat-size pieces.

A quick note for anyone attempting an undertaking such as this. The ‘rotary’ style razor often found in the quilting section of most fabric stores, (it resembles a pizza cutter, only with an actual razor blade serving as the wheel,) cuts fiberglass with smooth precision and makes this task immeasurably faster, neater and easier than either scissors or a utility knife. Explaining precisely what I’d be using that rotary razor for when asked by the curious saleslady in the quilting section… well, that was amusing. I suppose I’m making a quilt, of sorts, actually, though I don’t think it was the type she had in mind.

Each section, once cut, I wrapped in its own piece of plastic, which will serve both as a fresh surface to wet it out, as well as a neater way of laying it out overhead. Every section I labeled to its corresponding number on our paperwork, and sequence of layup. Those numbered and pre-wrapped pieces I grouped into bags, ready and waiting for their round of layup.

Ultimately, we’ll be positioning seventy-eight pieces in total, and from the first to the last, there will be no stopping. I suppose this might be the point to say something clever about how preparation is half the job, or make some analogy to how it connects to writing or something else in life.  But right now I’m more preoccupied with double and triple checking every number, while watching the weather forecasts, which predict excessive heat, and figuring how we’ll rig an air conditioner into the cabin to keep temperatures in the cabin within optimal working range.

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Joyce Holland on Blogging and getting published

By Joyce Holland

Back when I wrote a bi-weekly column for the newspaper, I never lacked for ideas. So why is blogging so difficult for me? Everyone else churns out clever paragraphs, and accompanying photos faster than I can sort the laundry. I suspect it’s because it’s more personal. I think everyone will be happier if I stick to commentary on things public, or simply discuss writing.

So…writing. My end of the business involves reading other peoples manuscripts every day. I used to read several books a week for my own enjoyment and I loved it. As an agent, things have changed. Now it’s half enjoyment and half angst. I do not like writing rejections. I never will. Unless the writing is dreadful, I try to offer advice when I have time. I’ve closed to submissions for the summer to catch up.

Let’s talk about pure genre fiction, thrillers and mystery fiction in particular. People ask me what I’m looking for. The same as you, a great read. They also ask me how far I read into a manuscript. The answer is painful, because it’s not very far. You’ve heard this before. For today’s audience, you have to grab the reader on the first page. Easier said than done, of course, but still worth the effort to try. I have had authors tell me their story really jumps into gear in chapter three, and defend the buildup as necessary. As Nero Wolfe would say: pfft!

Genre fiction is a cold hard business. The reading public craves action and emotion, and they want it in measured bites. Maybe it comes from watching too much television. Every ten minutes there is a break, usually when you are on the edge of your seat. Writing is the same. You charge the reader up, (hopefully for more than ten minutes) then kick the chair from under him. But, and here’s the secret, you leave a tiny little ray of hope or mystery to keep them hanging in there. They have to care deeply about your characters, and/or they have to be dying to find out what’s going to happen. Sounds easy, doesn’t it. How do you keep them hanging? Ah, if only I knew.

But there is one aspect of the craft I have an opinion on. I don’t know how you feel, but I dislike characters with a flaw. It’s personal, but I want to depend on my protagonist, not worry he will flounder because of a built in weakness. Give me Dirk Pitt. You can drop a bomb in front of him and not worry he is going to take a drink and fall off the wagon. Kinsey Millhone, doesn’t have panic attacks. And James Bond doesn’t worry about STDs. (I threw that in for fun)

Superheroes don’t count. Superman–kryptonite, etc.

Anyway, my point is, what causes the reader concern shouldn’t be an inside job. No waiting for the proverbial ax to fall. Obstacles thrown in the protagonist’s path are fair game, as far as I’m concerned. For Dirk Pitt, the bomb’s the problem. For Kinsey Millhone, murder makes her mad. And for James Bond…well, we won’t go there.

You can kill your protagonist’s best friends, their business partners, make them sad, take away their house and money, have someone evil stalking them, I’ll buy any of those, but let them stand tall.

Hmm… I read too many submissions with weak characters in them this week and maybe I’ll feel differently soon, but if feels like a trend. I’ll stop while I’m ahead.

Closing thought:
To those who say, write what you know, I ask, why? Are science fiction writers aliens? Are mystery writers murderers? Are romance writers nymphomaniacs? Don’t answer that.

Happy writing
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Junkanoo and sailing too.

We’ve been anchored in Marsh Harbour for a week now. The weather has been a little dicey and we’re still waiting to see when we can leave. However that doesn’t mean we’ve been sitting still. Friday we went into town for the Summer Junkanoo festival. Lots of food, lots of drink, and lots of music.

Here’s a couple of pictures of the Spring City Rockers Junkanoo Group.

  

The Royal Bahamas Defence Force Marching Band was there.

  

And of course Mary and I were there.

We took a sail. Here’s Rough Draft as we sailed back after a day of snorkeling at Fowl Cay.

We even managed a ferry ride to Hope Town.

 

All in the name of research. Life can be tough at times but someone’s got to do the dirty work. Don’t you think?

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Solo again

by Christine Kling

Soooo true, eh? I could write a blog post about each and every little square up there.

But there is one square that is missing. It should probably come right after the Neglected Spouse.

Let’s call it Resentful Child(ren).

My son is flying home on Saturday for a job interview, and I will be solo again. Well, I still have my pup Barney, but he doesn’t stand a watch. I’ll miss my boy, but it certainly has not been an easy few weeks. This was the first time in 10 years we’ve tried to live together  and, well, those of you who are sailors know what it can be like trying to live in the close quarters of a 33-foot boat. We’ve argued, we’ve called each other names, and we’ve finally come to be in a pretty good place. I think we understand one another better than we have in many years. We had lots of stuff to work through.

Back in the days when I was a traditionally published author and I used to go on book tours, I used to tell this story about my son. It’s about when I was writing my first book, SURFACE TENSION, and I was newly divorced from his dad. It was back in 1997 and I was trying to deal with my new role as a single mom – little did I know the following year his dad would die and I would REALLY be a solo mom.

I’d be sitting at the computer on a weekend afternoon, and Tim would come in and tell me he was bored. I was working as a high school teacher during the week and the weekends were the best time for me to write. So, I’d ask him to please give me 3 hours to work on the book and then we’d go do something. He would disappear — but 5 minutes later he’d be back saying he was bored and asking me to take him to the beach or the mall or the skate park.

After weeks of this, one day in exasperation, I said to him, “Tim, please, just leave me alone for 3 hours and let me concentrate and write. If you can do that, then someday, if and when I sell this book, I will give you 10% of whatever I make.”

And he disappeared.

Tim was 11 when I made that promise and I had forgotten all about it 5 years later when I got that call from my agent that I had two offers from publishers. But, the first words out of my son’s mouth were, “What’s my cut?”

That was the laugh line. It worked every time.

Until yesterday when Tim told me he resented the fact that I was “always all about the books.” That one set me back on my heels. We talked our way through it and I think we both understand things we didn’t know before.

But, you know how two hours later we always tend to think of the great lines we should have said? Hey, we’re writers and it takes us time to think of these things. I should have reminded him that I did come through and pay him that 10%, and it bought him his first video camera that paved the way for his BFA in film from University of Central Florida – and that is what just might get him this job.

Fingers crossed.

Fair winds!

Christine

 

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How did you guess?

C.E. Grundler

They say you can tell a lot about a person by the car they drive. And considering how many people, upon seeing my truck, immediately surmise that I own a boat, I’d have to say that’s true. Only the other day it happened again. A fellow at Shoprite glanced over as he loaded groceries into his sedan, his eyes lingering for a moment on my old red Dodge, (I’ll note the bed was devoid of a prop, shaft or rudder at the time,) and he chuckled. “Sailor?”

“Trawler,” I replied, though in fairness the truck dates back to my catboat days, and many traces of my true ragboat tendencies still remain. But as I shuffled tools to make space for my boat bags of groceries, I stepped back and regarded the truck to consider what it was that gave me away.

First off, the truck itself. A Dodge Dakota that I’d driven off the dealer’s lot two decades ago.  Worn, scuffed and comfortable as a pair of old work boots, but still mechanically sound due to years of diligent maintenance and a spouse who can weld and machine parts no longer available. A great little truck, big enough to be functional but small enough to be practical. Once a strong seller, the number of aging Dakotas still on the road has steadily dwindled as their upkeep, not to mention the ‘Cash for Clunkers’ program, took their toll and sent many of these sturdy little trucks off to the automotive glue factory. To us, that would have been like dumping the trusted and reliable old family dog at the pound to trade it in on a cute new puppy. Thanks, but no thanks.

Replacing driveshaft bearings - boat maintenance is perfect practice for days like this.

So the old Dodge rumbles along, a testament to that sailing ‘fix it’ mentality. But there’s another clue, and this one is pretty straightforward. The bumper stickers. They’re rather self-explanatory, and even the non-boating ones make it fairly clear the driver has a warped sense of humor, which I believe is mandatory for anyone hell-bent on restoring any aging boat.

And for those who have spent too much time working on a boat, a quick look inside confirms any lingering suspicions: this is indeed a boater’s truck.

This is pretty much standard for what you’ll see in the cab. Tools and batteries. Parts catalogs. Mixing containers, work gloves, etc. Boat cushion on the driver’s seat, (I’m only 5’2″ and I like to look over the steering wheel, not through it.)  And let’s not overlook the ‘trim’ on The Wand of Power…

Years back, I found myself waiting at a train station with time on my hands and some line in the cab. Ever since, it’s been a conversation piece whenever the truck goes to DMV for inspection.

But it’s not just me. I’ve noticed how automotive preferences among boaters break into some interesting but fairly consistent patterns. Go-fast powerboaters drive massive, powerful SUVs and superduty pickups, ones usually visible from space due to size as well as the vast amounts of chrome trim, or they lean towards flashy sports cars. Most sailors seem to prefer faded old Hondas, Subarus, or Volvos, especially in the station wagon configuration, usually with the rear seats folded down and loaded to the headliner with gear and a ladder strapped to the roof. Aging Ford Rangers or Mazda pickups are also a popular choice, as well as the occasional VW TDI, (my other car as well.)

The other night I spotted a sign at the far end of a lot for free mulch. We’re doing some yard work, so off we went to load up, one shovel-load at a time.  As I like to say: “If it’s free, it’s for me.”

My husband glanced at the truck, loaded to capacity with its second load of free mulch, and then at me, and laughed.  “Once a sailor, always a sailor.”

 

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Author Finder

If you enjoy life along the water’s edge, check out the Smartphone App called Ship Finder. Christine Kling wrote about this program in one of her earlier posts and since then Ship Finder has only improved its features for tracking vessels that are at sea.

Ship Finder is easy and intuitive. From my iPhone or iPad I can identify ships passing by our waters on Rhode Island Sound and Buzzards Bay, or I can scan over to Newport to identify mega-yachts in the harbor. It even provides their length, beam, speed if they are underway, and their country of origin.

At some point, TMZ and the papa razzi will get wind of this slick App’s ability to track yachts owned by rock stars and movie icons. I have also seen that the same group that created Ship Finder also developed Plane Finder. Same concept, I suppose. A really neat idea.

Just think what we might do with this technology – perhaps Author Finder will be the next iteration. The possibilities are enticing.

Let’s see…a few clicks and we find JK Rowling. There she is – at her house in Kensington, West London. Oh, sitting at her computer typing. Her fans will be pleased.

Perhaps we can use Author Finder to check out James Patterson. A few clicks and away we go. Whoa, check this out, ten different authors are showing up, all listed as Patterson.

I wonder what Sebastian Junger is up to. Click, click. No way, what’s he doing there? He’s not going to write about that, is he?

Perhaps we could even use Author Finder to track some of our authors from Write On The Water.

Let’s look at Mike Mike Jastrzebski and Christine Kling. Yup, there they are. Putting down rum drinks at a bar called Nippers on Great Guana Cay. Nice.

Then again, Author Finder might turn out to be too intrusive. I remember Lisa Scottoline saying that she had so many people asking her where she wrote that she decided to set up a web cam in her office. She’d sit down and work on her craft while her fan/viewers watched. Everything was fine, she said, until the “how come you’re not at your desk writing” emails started coming in. Not much later, she decided to toss the web cam.

Maybe this Author Finder isn’t such a good idea after all. Besides, from what I hear those pappa razi are a real pain in the backside. Still, let’s take one more look at Mike and Christine. Oops. Now they’re in the conga line.

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Heads up on the Key West Mystery Festival – 2013

Are you ready? You can’t tell me later I didn’t give you time to plan for this, so I want you to go get a pen and paper, a pencil will do. Go ahead, I’ll wait. You! Yeah you, a little too much fun on a Monday night? All right, get some aspirin too, but hurry, we don’t have all day.

Where’s the party animal? Oh, there you are with the large glass of OJ. Ok, now you need to write this down, so I will go slowly. Ready?

Next May 9 – 12, 2013, there is going to be the second annual Key West Mystery Festival. It is still in the planning stages, but they’ve asked me (whoever they are, right?) to be the chair for the mystery writers.

Tentative schedule is a meet and greet, all artists involved, on Thursday, May 9. An early evening event and probably two authors will read from their works. Friday, May 10, a reading by a couple of authors, but all authors will attend, at the Smokin’ Tuna Saloon in Old Town Key West. Discount on drinks for festival goers and free finger foods.

Saturday, May 11, there will be two morning panels of mystery writers, lunch and then two afternoon panels. Location TBA, but one of the larger hotels, probably.

In the evening the Waterfront Playhouse will put on a play, a mystery of course, play TBA.

For aspiring writers out there, the festival will have a short story contest.

Mystery Writers of America, Florida Chapter, is where I am drawing most of the writers. Two panel subjects I am hoping to arrange is, 1) Women of Mystery, drawing from some of South Florida’s women mystery writers, and 2) Humor and Murder. Yeah we’ve got a few writers that use humor in their works.

I have verbal commitments for most everyone and it promises to be a fan-based event. For this year, the panels are limited, but if you have an idea of a panel subject that would interest you, I’d like to hear it. No promises, but it could be one of the two remaining panels.

I’m still formatting plans for something special on Friday afternoon, like an author’s bar stroll or maybe an early reading upstairs at the Hog’s Breath Saloon. Saloon seems to be a favorite word when you’re opening a bar in Key West!

Part of the event sponsorship will be hosting hotels that will offer a lower than usual room rate for the event, so here’s an opportunity to visit Key West and meet some of South Florida’s talented mystery writers. As soon as the 2013 website for the festival is available, I’ll let you know.

Did you get all that down? Good, because I don’t have time for questions. See you in two weeks.

Hey, party animal, in the back of the room, no more aspirin and thanks for finishing all the OJ! I’ll have to settle for a bloody Mary. It’s a morning drink.

www.michaelhaskins.net

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