K. R. Hill's Blog, page 5

AMAZON BEST SELLER!!

Being a writer is like being a bar fighter. It is tough. You're going to get bruised and sore. Helping others is what gives me pleasure, so when I find something that worked for me, I share it with fellow writers.

Recently I decided to really work on my book blurb for a novel I put out about a year ago. Don't get me wrong, I've rewritten the blurb probably 40 times, but just couldn't get it right. It felt wrong.

And beyond that, few were buying it. So, I petitioned help on a Facebook group, Blurb Boot Camp. After they tore it to shreds and pointed me in the right direction, I put the book back out.

I had never had more than about 50 downloads on a free day. But the first day I put it back out on Amazon, on a free day, almost 500 customers grabbed it. And it is still going now, the following day!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ZLY2D8M#...

Presently, Touching Spirits, The Mayan Case, sits in the number three position on Amazon Kindle, for suspense!

Bornholm, Denmark, and Templar Treasure

Some of you know that during a recent trip to Sweden and the Danish island of Bornholm, I thought it would be fun to look at several round churches built by the Knights Templar, on the island. This book aroused my curiosity. How fun it would be to incorporate a light-hearted mystery into our trip, right?

I mean who hadn't seen the film National Treasure, with N.Cage? Well, what most viewers don't realize is that that treasure in the film is believed by many historians to exist--today!

And, to give the mystery a literary flavor, it was a book by Henry Lincoln, Holy Blood/Holy Grail, that was the inspiration, the plot, of Dan Brown's novel, The Da Vinci Code! Just do a youtube search of Henry Lincoln's documentaries for the BBC.

But what happened to our light-hearted mystery? It is getting bogged down in a thick history, all tied together with a Mary Magdalene, the Templars discovering something in Jerusalem that the Pope paid dearly to keep silent, and a chapel in the south of France. This was not something to just throw out to the net lightly. It required research, and that is where I am now, sorting through the ... internet pap, library books, and youtube film, trying to boil it down to a nice article.

We did visit the round Templar churches, but I could not get my son nor fiance to break in at night and hammer through the floor of a single chapel. The nerve. What are vacations for?

Instead, we visited a village called 'God's Home,' (I mean how could you not?), drank the beer, and laughed along ambling country roads, where centuries before the Templar had taken extreme care to build their churches with such exacting locations that the geometry is startling.

Then I found the proof of a Templar visit. In the St. Maria church in Ysted, Sweden, which had been Danish at the time the Templar were here, I found, hanging on the wall, two candle holders with Masonic and Templar symbols.

I had to have them! They would have looked bad ass hanging on the wall above my writing desk, all polished and shiny. But the fiance would not even stand in position to block the one security camera so I could slip away with them. All she had to do was just stand there! All my talents were wasted. Now, the best I can do is hang a stupid photo of the candle holders that got away above my desk.

Swedish Jail

Some of you know that during a recent trip to Sweden and the Danish island of Bornholm, I thought it would be fun to look at several round churches built by the Knights Templar, on the island. This book aroused my curiosity. How fun it would be to incorporate a light-hearted mystery into our trip, right?

I mean who hadn't seen the film National Treasure, with N.Cage? Well, what most viewers don't realize is that that treasure in the film is believed by many historians to exist--today!

And, to give the mystery a literary flavor, it was a book by Henry Lincoln, Holy Blood/Holy Grail, that was the inspiration, the plot, of Dan Brown's novel, The Da Vinci Code! Just do a youtube search of Henry Lincoln's documentaries for the BBC.

But what happened to our light-hearted mystery? It is getting bogged down in a thick history, all tied together with a Mary Magdalene, the Templars discovering something in Jerusalem that the Pope paid dearly to keep silent, and a chapel in the south of France. This was not something to just throw out to the net lightly. It required research, and that is where I am now, sorting through the ... internet pap, library books, and youtube film, trying to boil it down to a nice article.

We did visit the round Templar churches, but I could not get my son nor fiance to break in at night and hammer through the floor of a single chapel. The nerve. What are vacations for?

Instead, we visited a village called 'God's Home,' (I mean how could you not?), drank the beer, and laughed along ambling country roads, where centuries before the Templar had taken extreme care to build their churches with such exacting locations that the geometry is startling.

Then I found the proof of a Templar visit. In the St. Maria church in Ysted, Sweden, which had been Danish at the time the Templar were here, I found, hanging on the wall, two candle holders with Masonic and Templar symbols.

I had to have them! They would have looked bad ass hanging on the wall above my writing desk, all polished and shiny. But the fiance would not even stand in position to block the one security camera so I could slip away with them. All she had to do was just stand there! All my talents were wasted. Now, the best I can do is hang a stupid photo of the candle holders that got away above my desk.

Ysted, Sweden--

In the just wanted to post some of the amazing doors in this city. It is not uncommon to see doors that are one hundred, two hundred years old, and more. On the amusing side, the Danes and Swedes have been fighting each other, and every country around them, for hundreds of years. So, if you're being taken around by a local, they usually lead you to a church and show you ax marks on the door, and say, depending whether you're in Denmark or Sweden, something like, "see these ax marks? That's from when the horrible Danes or Swedes attacked in ... sixteen hundred and whatever." 

One Fact That stuck in my mind, being from California, was that the reason for one attack, centuries pas, was that the sea froze between the two countries. I thought that was illegal. But, the Swedes took advantage of the opportunity, and marched to Vordingborg, the capitol of Denmark at the time.

Here are some wonderful doors and houses along the old, winding walking the streets of Ysted. 

From Sweden--

 We left Copenhagen and took the train to Ysted, Sweden, which is just north of Bornholm, the Danish island with the Templar churches. We were surprised to find that our hotel, Hotel Continental du Sud, is the oldest Hotel in Sweden, with records showing royal guests as early as 1829. It is a gem that could be used to film the Great Gatsby.

We had some time to kill and walked around this beautiful town of old churches and flower filled squares where children run and stand enthralled by fountains. I was so taken by the town that I began snapping photos of the old doors I came across, some on buildings displaying dates from centuries past. To my amazement one old building had a plaque that stated the building dated to fifteen hundred something. That was the oldest I had seen.
Decades ago she was

 The reason I am posting this is to mention the Templar symbols, and Masonic symbols, found in St. Maria's Church. I was in the church just to look about when I came across the copper candle holders on the wall. I was surprised to see the Templar cross, and then the Masonic eye.

At the time the Templar came to Bornholm, this part of Sweden, along with much of Norway, were ruled by Denmark. Ysted, where the church is, where the candle holders hang, would have been the closest land to Bornholm, and, I would imagine, many goods came from here. 






Notice the Templar cross.  I wanted to add this mention of a great man's passing, to show how it flashed around the world.
 And on this candle holder is the Masonic eye, just like the one on the American one dollar bill.

The Little Mermaid and H.C. Andersen

As some of you know, I am traveling two Bornholm, Denmark, and will be doing some blog posts and possibly a LA-hour piece, about the Knights Templar treasure.
I'm now in Copenhagen, and my Danish language skills are slowly returning, using facial muscles som ikke er overused in decades. There are some words att I can not say without sticking out my tongue. The one saying the Danes always love to hear foreigners try ice rodgrot with cream (English is missing three vowels found in Danish). It is a tongue twister thatwill be Danish Friends rolling with laughter när a native English speaker tries it. (For revenge, have a Dane say Fart. They can't pronounce the hard T.)
What I wanted two point out to the group was something rörande writing. (Imagine that.) Hans Christian Andersen thought of himself as a novelist, and said his fairy tales were little puffs of fun. Yet it is his fairy tailes - The Ugly Duckling, The Little Mermaid, The Emperor's Clothes, att touched the world!
Yesterday I had the pleasure of visiting a monument to Hans Christian's greatness: A statue of the little mermaid in Copenhagen harbor. As I stood there watching the bus loads of tourists climbing over the rocks around the statue, I wondered how many of dem even knew that it was there two honor a great writer, how many had read his spoken. It was due two his vision and passion att hordes still came two snap photos. HC's work stirred the imagination of the world, regardeless of language or culture.
I also overheard a Danish tour bus driver, bumming a cigarette from a one nearby, describe the American tourists on his bus as "Fleas in a bag." The writer in me, fordi of my returning Danish, was kunnet capture att analogy, att wonderful description, and must Likely the allow it to live through my writing. So, I learned two things: the power of the skrives word, as with Hans Christian's works, and the power of the spoken word. With enten we never know how they will travel beyond ourselves and touch other, change lives, add value and love and joy.
Thank you for Allowing me to share this.
If you would like to read a bit of background about the Knights Templar treasure, pls. visit my blog.

A Knights Templar Buried Treasure on A Danish Island

Is there buried treasure on Bornholm, a Danish Island, that lies off the southern tip of Sweden? I came across this book while doing research for trip to the island. I was amazed to discover a link to the Knights Templar. (If you saw the film National Treasure, with Nicolas Cage, you should know that it was THIS treasure he was searching for.)

I loved the book because of my coming trip. What better way to spice up a visit to a distant island than by imagining piles of gold, and possibly, the Ark of the Covenant, being discovered by myself, the soon to be famous adventurer and author. I could live with that.

The book is a great read because of a delicious detail: In 1985-86 nearly 3,000 gold statues, traced to the French kings who founded the Templar order, were dug up on Bornholm. Also, it is a fact that the precise location of the Templar churches, on the island, form a geometric star, the symbol of the Templar taken from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, and found in the design of other Templar churches in Europe. The author hints that the star, formed by the position of the churches, may reveal the location of the treasure.

The author sites many examples of recorded history, linking the Knights Templar to Bornholm, making my coming trip and blog posts all the sweeter.

It is a fascinating book, about a tremendous legend based in fact. Whether the treasure exists or not, it is thrilling to think it may be real. If you think the knights Templar ancient history, remember that it is because of them we believe Friday the 13th is unlucky. For it was on that fateful day the king of France sent his assassins and slaughtered many of the Templar. Many more were imprisoned and tortured. That is why we, to this day, we believe Friday the 13th unlucky.

What we don't know for certain, is whether some of the Templar escaped with a vast treasure. It is an excellent read for those with the historic mystery bug. Now I have to figure out how to get a shovel through customs and into Denmark.

This brief article is background for a few postings I'll be doing from Bornholm. I hope you enjoy them. *This review was first published on GoodReads.com.

*Here is a good source of information about the book and the Templar: http://www.rense.com/general6/baltic.htm

I moved abroad to look for myself!

In 1985 I sold everything and moved into an abandoned house, 100' from the Caribbean. I needed a time out. It was my time to put my life into perspective, to come to terms with being put into jail in Kenya, and having to watch a boy being beaten. For year I shock when I walked through airports.

I recently published a short memoir of my time in my magical house in Mayaland, along with a short story from my time there. To my surprise it is #6 on the Amazon list for teen and young adult! It is only eight pages, but I think/hope it will touch your heart.

To all those who need, or have needed, to take a time out, to go within, to look for answers, to look for the truth of their lives, to look for themselves and a way to move forward, I say that my heart goes out to you. Go with God.

Kevin R. Hill

Paid Amazon Reviews

This is a difficult subject. I struggled with it for some time. Readers seem to follow the herd. If a book has a hundred reviews that are four or five stars, then it must be good.

Wrong. It has recently come to light that big name author John Locke, and others, paid for reviews. And those reviews led to Big Time sales. The author primed the pump, so to speak.

This is where I enter. I released a book in June, have given away a few hundred copies, sold about a hundred copies, paid for online promos, and beside the four friends who posted reviews, I have gotten ZERO reviews. If I had a few hundred reviews would it prime the pump of public opinion, would the masses deem me worthy? It worked for the authors mentioned.

I worked on my latest novel for three years. Are the works of the other authors that much better than mine? Maybe, but I doubt it. Or, as I suspect, did those authors buy success, acceptance, credibility?

It was tempting beyond measure. Every bit of me wants and craves success, to be read and loved, to earn a living for the years of toil, the untold classes and critiques, and books shoved into desk drawers, the sacrifice and work. "Yes! I want success!" But then that little word keeps popping up:Ethics. Ain't that a bitch?

Mom, Shera, and I, the poor but honest writer.I just couldn't get around it. What to do? I called my sister, my 'oracle of Delphi.' Shera is a great writer who has chosen the traditional route. 'There is only truth,' she said. 'You are either in truth or not. Paying for reviews is not being in truth, and those authors, who paid for reviews may reap financial gain now, but there will be a price.'

I wanted to stomp and pound on walls, because it was not what I wanted to hear, but ... it was, I knew, the truth.

Kevin R. Hill is the author of two action/adventure novels on Kindle, and in paperback on Amazon. The images of his books you see in the sidebar are links to his books on Amazon. Thank you for reading! If you buy one of my books, "please," give it a review. That review means life or death for the writer. krh

MEMORY

MEMORY
"For six months I was in a room with all women, and you know what happens there, Lance."  Her voice was soft and sensitive, and only now do I realize the pain she tried to conceal.  I watched Johanna roll another cigarette, push the packet of tobacco aside and pour herself more wine. Her movements were slowed by alcohol and sorrow.  Her eyes never met mine."They give you only so much money a week for cigarettes and other things."  She sipped the wine and stared at some memory across the tiny student apartment.  "So many doctors ... with questions into all my life."  Her lips pressed tightly upon each other as she shook her head, refusing to unleash any emotions.  For a few minutes she was silent, but as I leaned forward to pat her arm, Johanna began to speak.  "What you see ... what you live ... dees things all become part of you.  Memories form the person."  Her eyes widened with understanding.  "Did you know that, Lance?  Oh, the things I saw," she whispered.  "Mein Gott!" "Johanna," I said, wanting to hurry around the table and hold her, to console her with words and caresses, to be the friend she so needed, but I was becoming aware of another desire."Yes, Lance, I received one of your letters when I was... there."  Tapping out the cigarette, she drank the remaining wine, and refilled the glass.  As she leaned back in the chair and folded her legs beneath her, Johanna began rolling a cigarette. "But how could I read it?  Written words mean nothing there.  It was all for the moment, the now.  I fought for every second. I could not let go of the fight, even to read. “But tell me, were there feelings and beautiful things in the letter?  Where did your words take me, Lance?  Ja, you always write such wonderful letters ... for how many years now?"  Her hands shook so that the ash fell from the cigarette onto her pants, but she did not brush it away.  Nor, I remember, did she ever face me, but addressed her soft words and stare toward the vacant chair at our table, as if in her reality, that was where I sat. I know I tried to comfort Johanna with words, but I can't remember them. All I remember is her sitting there, smoking cigarettes and drinking Mosel wine, and the desire I tried to suppress. And now, two years later, as I sit in the park across from her apartment building, I search through her words and try to forgive myself.  It was when the neighbor woman came to barrow the telephone that the atmosphere changed.  I remember how Johanna introduced me as her boy friend from America, then sat on my lap.  Feeling her warmth, smelling her faint perfume, I had to kiss her, had to lead her to the little mattress on the floor. And yes, still I remember what she whispered as I stared down into her frightened, tear-filled eyes.  Yes, Johanna, memories do form the person. When we finished I sat up and smoked a cigarette, my first in four years.  And as I sat there I could feel the tension, and knew she was watching."I have to go, Johanna," I said, as I stood up and searched for my clothes."Oh Lance, not like dis ... not you and I.  You make my bed wet, then smoke a cigarette and go?"She lay in the fetal position and didn't acknowledge me as I kissed her good-bye.  I never saw Johanna again. When I returned two days later, her name plate had been removed from the front porch directory.
I can smell pastries and coffee from the bakery up the street.  Children shout and chase a soccer ball through the park in which I sit.  I never bothered to really look at Johanna's old building.  The stone blocks are surrounded by straight mortar seams.  The tall, old window frames have been recently varnished and their brass hinges shine.  There are ugly little gargoyles under the eves, and decorative stone work borders the windows and doors.  The walls are pock-mocked from the war.  Here and there chunks of stone have been broken loose.  At chest height I see smaller holes, one after the other, forming a line from some long ago machine gun blast.  No attempt has been made to fill in these holes.  They have merely been brushed over with the same pink paint that covers the entire building.  In Germany, so many things are kept unrepaired.