Shane Barker's Blog
July 1, 2019
Time Crunch
Here's an excerpt from my newest young-adult thriller "Time Crunch!"
Prologue
FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD Zach Wolff stopped on the trail and looked back over his shoulder. Sweat ran down his face as he chuffed for breath.
Man, he thought, wiping a sleeve across his forehead. It’s like I can’t breathe here.
He sucked in a deep, lung-filling breath, but the air made his head swim: it clearly had more oxygen than he was used to breathing.
He buried his face in his shoulder—trying to mop off the sweat—then looked quickly all around. The forest was too thick to see much, the trees too tall to allow much sunlight. The shrieks, cackles, and cries of birds and small forest animals filled the warm air like a chorus of monkeys. And there was a … scent … in the air that reminded Zach of a warm, humid greenhouse.
A greenhouse filled with must, and mold, and decay …
Zach closed his eyes—
There was a sudden snap from the trees, and Zach looked back over his shoulder.
Crap! It’s still coming!
He turned and began running again. The trail was narrow, and the roots and limbs of tangled vines and scrubs tugged at his legs. He wasn’t running as hard as he could—
Can’t afford to get tired!
—but just fast enough to keep his lead.
The trail abruptly spilled from the forest onto a wide swath that cut through the forest like a meandering road. Rotting stumps and logs lay everywhere, and Zach knew instantly what he’d found.
Dinosaur highway, he thought. Made by animals big enough to knock down fifty-foot trees.
He looked up and down the “road,” trying to decide which way to go. It didn’t really matter, but—
Another crunch came from the trees, and Zach turned right, jogging down the side of the crumbly swath. The ground had been pulped and pounded, chopped up, chewed up, and crushed again and again by the feet of enormous animals.
Makes sense, he thought. An apatosaur could smash its way through the middle of the forest. But why bother when there’s a perfectly good trail to follow …
IN ADDITION to the rotting stumps and logs were enormous piles of excrement—dinosaur dung—some as tall as he was. Many of the moldering piles were old, black, and crumbling. But others were still fresh: green and pungent and buzzing with flies. Zach ignored them, hoping the ripe smell would mask his scent. But rank as the putrefying dung was, Zach knew it might not be enough.
Tyrannosaurs have good noses, he remembered, knowing the part of the brain that allowed them to smell was larger than in other predators. Zach knew, of course, that just because tyrannosaurs could sniff out prey like hounds after squirrels didn’t mean all big carnivores could.
But it didn’t mean they couldn’t, either.
HE JOGGED ANOTHER fifty yards, cast a quick glance over his shoulder—
Good! Nothing there yet!
—then darted off the swath and back into the forest.
The trees were the strangest he’d ever seen. There were pine trees, of course, fifty or sixty feet high with trunks five feet across. And there were gnarled, moss- and vine-covered trees that filled the sky with their branches. Thin shafts of sunlight filtered down through the leaves like bright spiderwebs: the entire forest was colored in a thousand different shades of green.
Zach ran for another minute, then slowed to climb over a fallen log. He stepped behind one of the gnarled trees, looked back into the forest, then leaned back against the mossy trunk.
Man, can’t run much farther, he thought. He took a deep breath of the warm, fragrant air and felt another rush of dizziness. His sides were beginning to ache—his legs burning a little—and he knew he couldn’t go on much longer.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax a little. He only needed to rest for a minute—just long enough to catch his breath—before he began running again. He stifled a cough, then looked up into the treetops.
Something …
The forest was suddenly quiet. The birds, the bugs, and the small forest animals had become silent. The stillness was eerie, and Zach felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as if charged by an electric current. He glanced around the tree—
Still nothing there.
—then looked ahead.
Time to go …
He took another breath, then pushed himself away from the tree and froze.
Something moved in the forest ahead.
Zach caught his breath, then slowly bent his knees, lowering himself to the ground. He kept perfectly still, his eyes locked on the dense foliage. Several seconds passed. Then several more. Zach could feel his heart pounding, his lungs burning as he held his breath.
Everything was still, and quiet.
Zach watched carefully. He was beginning to think the movement had been his imagination—or maybe a frond swaying in a breath of unfelt breeze—when the leaves rustled. He pressed himself back against the trunk of the tree, scrunching down as far as he could.
And then he saw it.
The dinosaur emerged slowly from the trees, its head down and its eyes peering straight ahead.
It looks like a tyrannosaur, Zach thought, though he knew it wasn’t. Tyrannosaurs were Cretaceous animals and wouldn’t exist for another sixty million years.
But it’s not an allosaur, either. It’s too big. It’s got a longer snout and it’s … stockier … than an allosaur.
He shrank back into the ferns as he watched. Allosaurs were supposed to be among the fiercest predators of the Mid Mesozoic. But this was more than forty-feet long, sixteen-feet high at the hips: bigger than any allosaur, larger even than T-rex. It was covered with pebbled, mottled-grey skin that blended with the foliage, ugly jagged scars running across its jaw and shoulder.
Zach racked his brain, thinking of every picture he’d ever seen—every description he’d ever read—trying to decide what the thing was.
Could be a siats, he thought, pronouncing the name “see-atch” in his mind. Siats was a recently discovered predator thought to be bigger than T-rex. Or maybe it’s a lythronax … the “King of Gore.”
Zach shuddered, not excited about either possibility. A dinosaur more terrifying than T-rex?
A dinosaur known as the King of Gore?
Running into either one would be bad news.
But it might be something new, he thought. Something undiscovered … something no one’s ever seen!
He knew paleontologists had only identified a fraction of the dinosaurs that once ruled the world. And there were literally thousands—millions—of species yet to be discovered.
So if it is something new, I could name it, he thought. Call it … Zachiosaurus.
The enormous dinosaur stood with its massive head and tail stretched parallel to the ground. After a moment it turned, looking in Zach’s direction. Zach’s blood froze as he stared back, praying the thing hadn’t spotted him. His stomach churned in fear.
They might not name it after me because I discovered it … but because I was the first person to be eaten by it.
Prologue
FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD Zach Wolff stopped on the trail and looked back over his shoulder. Sweat ran down his face as he chuffed for breath.
Man, he thought, wiping a sleeve across his forehead. It’s like I can’t breathe here.
He sucked in a deep, lung-filling breath, but the air made his head swim: it clearly had more oxygen than he was used to breathing.
He buried his face in his shoulder—trying to mop off the sweat—then looked quickly all around. The forest was too thick to see much, the trees too tall to allow much sunlight. The shrieks, cackles, and cries of birds and small forest animals filled the warm air like a chorus of monkeys. And there was a … scent … in the air that reminded Zach of a warm, humid greenhouse.
A greenhouse filled with must, and mold, and decay …
Zach closed his eyes—
There was a sudden snap from the trees, and Zach looked back over his shoulder.
Crap! It’s still coming!
He turned and began running again. The trail was narrow, and the roots and limbs of tangled vines and scrubs tugged at his legs. He wasn’t running as hard as he could—
Can’t afford to get tired!
—but just fast enough to keep his lead.
The trail abruptly spilled from the forest onto a wide swath that cut through the forest like a meandering road. Rotting stumps and logs lay everywhere, and Zach knew instantly what he’d found.
Dinosaur highway, he thought. Made by animals big enough to knock down fifty-foot trees.
He looked up and down the “road,” trying to decide which way to go. It didn’t really matter, but—
Another crunch came from the trees, and Zach turned right, jogging down the side of the crumbly swath. The ground had been pulped and pounded, chopped up, chewed up, and crushed again and again by the feet of enormous animals.
Makes sense, he thought. An apatosaur could smash its way through the middle of the forest. But why bother when there’s a perfectly good trail to follow …
IN ADDITION to the rotting stumps and logs were enormous piles of excrement—dinosaur dung—some as tall as he was. Many of the moldering piles were old, black, and crumbling. But others were still fresh: green and pungent and buzzing with flies. Zach ignored them, hoping the ripe smell would mask his scent. But rank as the putrefying dung was, Zach knew it might not be enough.
Tyrannosaurs have good noses, he remembered, knowing the part of the brain that allowed them to smell was larger than in other predators. Zach knew, of course, that just because tyrannosaurs could sniff out prey like hounds after squirrels didn’t mean all big carnivores could.
But it didn’t mean they couldn’t, either.
HE JOGGED ANOTHER fifty yards, cast a quick glance over his shoulder—
Good! Nothing there yet!
—then darted off the swath and back into the forest.
The trees were the strangest he’d ever seen. There were pine trees, of course, fifty or sixty feet high with trunks five feet across. And there were gnarled, moss- and vine-covered trees that filled the sky with their branches. Thin shafts of sunlight filtered down through the leaves like bright spiderwebs: the entire forest was colored in a thousand different shades of green.
Zach ran for another minute, then slowed to climb over a fallen log. He stepped behind one of the gnarled trees, looked back into the forest, then leaned back against the mossy trunk.
Man, can’t run much farther, he thought. He took a deep breath of the warm, fragrant air and felt another rush of dizziness. His sides were beginning to ache—his legs burning a little—and he knew he couldn’t go on much longer.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax a little. He only needed to rest for a minute—just long enough to catch his breath—before he began running again. He stifled a cough, then looked up into the treetops.
Something …
The forest was suddenly quiet. The birds, the bugs, and the small forest animals had become silent. The stillness was eerie, and Zach felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as if charged by an electric current. He glanced around the tree—
Still nothing there.
—then looked ahead.
Time to go …
He took another breath, then pushed himself away from the tree and froze.
Something moved in the forest ahead.
Zach caught his breath, then slowly bent his knees, lowering himself to the ground. He kept perfectly still, his eyes locked on the dense foliage. Several seconds passed. Then several more. Zach could feel his heart pounding, his lungs burning as he held his breath.
Everything was still, and quiet.
Zach watched carefully. He was beginning to think the movement had been his imagination—or maybe a frond swaying in a breath of unfelt breeze—when the leaves rustled. He pressed himself back against the trunk of the tree, scrunching down as far as he could.
And then he saw it.
The dinosaur emerged slowly from the trees, its head down and its eyes peering straight ahead.
It looks like a tyrannosaur, Zach thought, though he knew it wasn’t. Tyrannosaurs were Cretaceous animals and wouldn’t exist for another sixty million years.
But it’s not an allosaur, either. It’s too big. It’s got a longer snout and it’s … stockier … than an allosaur.
He shrank back into the ferns as he watched. Allosaurs were supposed to be among the fiercest predators of the Mid Mesozoic. But this was more than forty-feet long, sixteen-feet high at the hips: bigger than any allosaur, larger even than T-rex. It was covered with pebbled, mottled-grey skin that blended with the foliage, ugly jagged scars running across its jaw and shoulder.
Zach racked his brain, thinking of every picture he’d ever seen—every description he’d ever read—trying to decide what the thing was.
Could be a siats, he thought, pronouncing the name “see-atch” in his mind. Siats was a recently discovered predator thought to be bigger than T-rex. Or maybe it’s a lythronax … the “King of Gore.”
Zach shuddered, not excited about either possibility. A dinosaur more terrifying than T-rex?
A dinosaur known as the King of Gore?
Running into either one would be bad news.
But it might be something new, he thought. Something undiscovered … something no one’s ever seen!
He knew paleontologists had only identified a fraction of the dinosaurs that once ruled the world. And there were literally thousands—millions—of species yet to be discovered.
So if it is something new, I could name it, he thought. Call it … Zachiosaurus.
The enormous dinosaur stood with its massive head and tail stretched parallel to the ground. After a moment it turned, looking in Zach’s direction. Zach’s blood froze as he stared back, praying the thing hadn’t spotted him. His stomach churned in fear.
They might not name it after me because I discovered it … but because I was the first person to be eaten by it.
February 15, 2019
Cracked the Top Ten!
I had to take a second to tell everyone that "Time Snap" just made the Top Ten in its Amazon sales category. (The ranking changes from day to day, but right now it's ranked No. 7.) I'm pretty jazzed, obviously, and I'm hoping to reach No. 1, so if you know any teenage readers, I hope you'll pass it along. (You can see it at amazon.com/author/shanebarker )
February 13, 2019
Time Snap Interview
After reading "Time Snap," an eighth grader named Max interviewed me for his English class. Here is part of our conversation:
Max: Do you outline your stories?
Shane: No, never. Sometimes I'll have an idea of where I want a story to go, but I like the surprise of making things up as I go. A lot of times I'm as surprised as anyone by what happens. Have you read my book, "Demon's Treasure?"
Max: Oh, yeah. That's the reason I was so excited to read "Time Snap."
Shane: Cool. One of the main characters started out as one of the "good guys" but went bad, and one of the "bad guys" ended up being a hero. When I started writing, I had no idea that was going to happen. And then the guys "flipped," I remember thinking, "I can't believe that just happened!"
Max: Did anything like that happen in "Time Snap?"
Shane: Not exactly. But I was surprised by the dinosaurs that kept popping up out of nowhere. I didn't really know I'd be writing about them until they came jumping out of the darkness.
Max: Like the "dinobirds?"
Shane: Exactly! One minute Chase was sneaking up on that clearing in the woods, and the next instant those dactyl things were dropping out of the sky. I really didn't know ahead of time that was going to happen.
Max: What about the tyrannosaur?
Shane: The tyrannosaur was different. I knew he was going to play a huge part, so he was part of things right from the start.
Max: Do you have any favorite scenes?
Shane: All of the scenes with the tyrannosaur. They were so much fun to write. I love action sequences anyway, but the rex added an extra jolt of energy. I just had a great time with them.
Max: So, I'm not supposed to ask where you get your ideas--
Shane: Really? Why not?
Max: It's supposed to be too obvious a question, I guess. Like one you get asked all the time? But I'm curious . . .
Shane: It's okay. I actually like hiking around the desert looking for fossils, and when I'm doing that I can't help thinking of dinosaurs. You know, picturing what things must have been like back in the day. And then picturing what it might be like to actually run into a bunch of them. And then finding a way to make it happen in a story . . .
Max: So do you have any weird writing habits?
Shane: A few, I think. At least I think they're unique to me. The first thing, probably, is that I can't write at the computer. I have to write everything out longhand, and then type it into the computer later.
Max: How come?
Shane: Probably 'cause that's how I learned to do it. I started writing before we had word processors, so it's still easiest for me to write everything out first. It takes a lot more work that way, but for me, it's a tough habit to break.
Max: Anything else?
Shane: Well, I can do my editing when I'm sitting at my desk, but when I'm actually writing--when I'm actually creating stuff--I hate being cooped up. I like going to ball games and sitting in the bleachers and doing my work there. Before I moved to the country, I often went to one of the local malls and found a table in the food court where there were a lot of people around and worked there. I don't know why, but being around lots of people like that always sparks my creativity.
Max: Isn't that distracting?
Shane: Sure. But it's also energizing. I can come home from the mall, or a ballgame, and feel like I've got a lot done. But when I'm cooped up at my desk, I get bored, and tired, and it's easy to get lazy.
Max: So is there going to be a sequel to "Time Snap?"
Shane: There wasn't going to be. But I've been surprised by how much people like reading about dinosaurs. I actually had another project I've been getting ready to jump into, but I might put that off and do another dinosaur book.
Max: Sweet! Will you tell me when it comes out?
Shane: Count on it!
Max: Do you outline your stories?
Shane: No, never. Sometimes I'll have an idea of where I want a story to go, but I like the surprise of making things up as I go. A lot of times I'm as surprised as anyone by what happens. Have you read my book, "Demon's Treasure?"
Max: Oh, yeah. That's the reason I was so excited to read "Time Snap."
Shane: Cool. One of the main characters started out as one of the "good guys" but went bad, and one of the "bad guys" ended up being a hero. When I started writing, I had no idea that was going to happen. And then the guys "flipped," I remember thinking, "I can't believe that just happened!"
Max: Did anything like that happen in "Time Snap?"
Shane: Not exactly. But I was surprised by the dinosaurs that kept popping up out of nowhere. I didn't really know I'd be writing about them until they came jumping out of the darkness.
Max: Like the "dinobirds?"
Shane: Exactly! One minute Chase was sneaking up on that clearing in the woods, and the next instant those dactyl things were dropping out of the sky. I really didn't know ahead of time that was going to happen.
Max: What about the tyrannosaur?
Shane: The tyrannosaur was different. I knew he was going to play a huge part, so he was part of things right from the start.
Max: Do you have any favorite scenes?
Shane: All of the scenes with the tyrannosaur. They were so much fun to write. I love action sequences anyway, but the rex added an extra jolt of energy. I just had a great time with them.
Max: So, I'm not supposed to ask where you get your ideas--
Shane: Really? Why not?
Max: It's supposed to be too obvious a question, I guess. Like one you get asked all the time? But I'm curious . . .
Shane: It's okay. I actually like hiking around the desert looking for fossils, and when I'm doing that I can't help thinking of dinosaurs. You know, picturing what things must have been like back in the day. And then picturing what it might be like to actually run into a bunch of them. And then finding a way to make it happen in a story . . .
Max: So do you have any weird writing habits?
Shane: A few, I think. At least I think they're unique to me. The first thing, probably, is that I can't write at the computer. I have to write everything out longhand, and then type it into the computer later.
Max: How come?
Shane: Probably 'cause that's how I learned to do it. I started writing before we had word processors, so it's still easiest for me to write everything out first. It takes a lot more work that way, but for me, it's a tough habit to break.
Max: Anything else?
Shane: Well, I can do my editing when I'm sitting at my desk, but when I'm actually writing--when I'm actually creating stuff--I hate being cooped up. I like going to ball games and sitting in the bleachers and doing my work there. Before I moved to the country, I often went to one of the local malls and found a table in the food court where there were a lot of people around and worked there. I don't know why, but being around lots of people like that always sparks my creativity.
Max: Isn't that distracting?
Shane: Sure. But it's also energizing. I can come home from the mall, or a ballgame, and feel like I've got a lot done. But when I'm cooped up at my desk, I get bored, and tired, and it's easy to get lazy.
Max: So is there going to be a sequel to "Time Snap?"
Shane: There wasn't going to be. But I've been surprised by how much people like reading about dinosaurs. I actually had another project I've been getting ready to jump into, but I might put that off and do another dinosaur book.
Max: Sweet! Will you tell me when it comes out?
Shane: Count on it!
February 23, 2018
Shark Bites
I give a lot of talks, and one of my favorite bits is a comedy routine about scuba diving with sharks and manta rays. Even though my new book "Demon's Treasure" is a taut, young-adult thriller, a few jokes from my routine slipped in. The other day I received a post from a young reader who's heard me speak; he laughed out loud when he recognized the jokes in the book from my talk.
Here's an example:
. . . Nick also explained that sharks were known to bite into a person and then, not liking the taste, spit them back out again.
"So even if one does sink his teeth into you, it doesn't mean he'sgoing to finish the job."
"Yeah," Jansen replied, "but you'll still be full of holes."
Without missing a beat, Nick said, "But that'd be awesome!"
"What? Why?"
"Well, if that happened to me, I'd just plug my nose and blow real hard and the air would come whooshing out of all those little holes. Voila! Human Jacuzzi!"
Brother . . .
Here's an example:
. . . Nick also explained that sharks were known to bite into a person and then, not liking the taste, spit them back out again.
"So even if one does sink his teeth into you, it doesn't mean he'sgoing to finish the job."
"Yeah," Jansen replied, "but you'll still be full of holes."
Without missing a beat, Nick said, "But that'd be awesome!"
"What? Why?"
"Well, if that happened to me, I'd just plug my nose and blow real hard and the air would come whooshing out of all those little holes. Voila! Human Jacuzzi!"
Brother . . .
February 4, 2018
Demon's Treasure
I've just added a couple of new titles to my list: "Saucer Crash" and "Demon's Treasure." I am so jazzed to have them out in print! I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but I first came up with the idea for "Demon's Treasure" while I was coaching a youth football game. (Go figure!) It's been through a lot of revisions, but I had a total blast working on it and now that it's finished . . . well, shoot--I kind of miss hanging out with my characters. (You can find it on Amazon and--if you read it--please leave me a review!)
On the other hand, I'll have my new young-adult thriller ready in just a couple of weeks. It's called "Shredder" and it's about snowboarding. I'm so excited it actually keeps me awake at night!
On the other hand, I'll have my new young-adult thriller ready in just a couple of weeks. It's called "Shredder" and it's about snowboarding. I'm so excited it actually keeps me awake at night!
January 27, 2012
Snow Caves
The Boy Scouts in my district have their annual Klondike Derby this weekend. (That's where they camp in the snow, race sleds, build humungous campfires, stuff like that.) The more cynical kids refer to it as the "Frostbite Derby." Back when I was in college, they had a Klondike Derby at Camp Maple Dell. I was up early in the morning, out wandering around the camp, and found a group of kids trying to stay warm around an itty-bitty campfire. As the kids huddled around the struggling flame (notice that I didn't use the plurual "flames"), someone mentioned a kid named Jon.
"Where is Jon?" someone asked.
"I don't know," someone else responded. "I'll go find him."
The kid was back in a second. "He's still in his snowcave!" he announced incredulously. "He said he's too warm to get up!"
As the boys gaped in disbelief, the troop prankster said, "I'll go get him." And sure enough, he was back in a second, saying, "Yeah, he didn't want to get up, but I convinced him."
"How did you do that?"
"Easy . . . I just smashed in his snowcave!"
"Where is Jon?" someone asked.
"I don't know," someone else responded. "I'll go find him."
The kid was back in a second. "He's still in his snowcave!" he announced incredulously. "He said he's too warm to get up!"
As the boys gaped in disbelief, the troop prankster said, "I'll go get him." And sure enough, he was back in a second, saying, "Yeah, he didn't want to get up, but I convinced him."
"How did you do that?"
"Easy . . . I just smashed in his snowcave!"
January 26, 2012
To Build a Fire
I was listening to Grooveshark yesterday when an Amazon ad popped up with my book, "I Thought Scout Uniforms Were Fireproof!" That was a first, but it was fun to see. (I almost bought another copy.) And it reminded me of a story I read about several years ago. Two Boy Scouts became lost in the mountains above Salt Lake City. They knew to stay where they were, and decided to build a fire. One of the boys had a survival manual, and they quickly read the chapter on fire building, but none of the suggestions worked. They reread the chapter and tried again. No good. They read the chapter AGAIN, following the suggestions step by step. Still nothing. This went on for some time and then the Scouts tried thinking outside the box. They ripped the book to shreds, put the paper in the fire lay, and soon had themselves a roaring bonfire. There are so many good Scouting stories out there . . . I put several of them in "I Thought Scout Uniforms Were Fireproof," and if you have a good one I'd love to hear it!
January 20, 2012
Gobsmacked
I just finished reading Tom Clancy's two newest books. In one of them (I think it was "Locked On") he twice used the word "gobsmacked." I thought I understood from the context what that meant, and I was anxious to use it somewhere. But then I looked it up and found that it means, "so surprised that you're speechless." That's not exactly what I thought it meant, but I instantly found a really fun way to use it in a novel that I'm just finishing up. (I actually have to go back and redo a couple of things, but I think it's going to add that extra bit of sparkle to the book.) I'm anxious for you to see what I've done with it. (I think you'll be gobsmacked!)
January 18, 2012
I Thought Scout Uniforms Were Fireproof!
I saw that "I Thought Scout Uniforms Were Fireproof!" is finally showing up on my page. (I haven't met the people who designed the cover, but they're not being paid nearly enough! Isn't it cool?) I started that book nearly 25 years ago, and I can't tell you how fun it is to finally see it in print. It actually started out as a novel. (I used to compare it to "All Creatures Great and Small," and I told people: "Just think 'James Herriot,' and then substitute the word 'Scoutmaster' for 'veterinarian.' ") It was a fun book (with chapters sporting titles like "Duncan Durbano and the Beaver-Dam Splash). Over the years it evolved a lot, and finally ended up as the how-to book that's in the stores (and I still got to tell a lot of fun stories). The Scouts in my neighborhood have their annual Klondike Derby next weekend . . . and if the forecasts are right, they might have enough snow to build snow caves. (I might have to give them all a copy of the book and have them read the chapter on winter camping . . .)
January 17, 2012
Basketball
I have a new novel coming out this summer called "Fast Break." It's about high school basketball (with a lot of intrigue and suspense thrown in) and I'm really excited about it. I love reading those kind of books, and I'm jazzed about writing one. I'm actually going to watch a 9th-grade game after school, and I'll be taking a draft of my latest manuscript with me. (I like working in that kind of atmosphere . . . I think I do better work sitting in a gym full of people than in a quiet room with nothing to look at or listen to.)
