My first novel – historical military fiction – made it to the top 10 of 9 of Amazon's bestseller lists. Via my blog I share what I have learned while writing two more.
We went to our first film festival this last weekend, the Lake Travis Film Festival. My wife and I had all-day passes to one day of the three-day event hosted by the cities of Lakeway and Bee Caves, which are suburbs of Austin.
We had no idea what we were doing, so we learned a lot about such things.
We saw about 10 films of various forms as we bounced back and forth between three venues that were showing student shorts (they weren’t so good), documentaries (which were very good), and an art gallery with static displays. We skipped the venue showing music video shorts.
One of the beauties of it was being exposed to things I would have never ever gone out to see otherwise. Three that most impressed us (with trailers for the interested):
The Act of Reading — Ostensibly about a quirky young man who decided to complete a book report on Moby Dick for his teacher after she flunked him for not doing it 11 years earlier. Strangely structured, but very engaging.
Motorcycle Man — A polished and emotionally engaging look at an old guy who can’t give up racing — living — motorcycles.
A Cut Above — And from the world of competitive Lumberjills, a clever look inside a sport and culture I’ve never thought about.
Listening to the directors after each documentary, it was fascinating to hear how much they each focused on the story, and the struggle to figure out what the story was they were trying to tell. Sometimes they did not realize what the story was until all the filming was already done. Though there were differences, much it sounded familiar.
Turn out was light, but I hope they have funding for a few more years so they can become better established and grow their attendance as well as draw in strong candidates.
They really need to step up their student entrants. I wanted to see them because though I knew the average quality was going to be worse, I had hoped for that rare gem from an unsung talent on the rise. Unfortunately, that one did not show up in what we saw.
Buckingham Palace from my Uber 12 Dec, 2019. On my way back to my hotel after a business dinner. About 10:30, 35 degrees, and light rain. No crowds.
As it is for many families, it’s been a busy December. Business trip to Germany and London, then work deadlines and Christmas. Several family members in and out of hospitals.
The trip to Germany was a mad dash through Heidelberg, Hannover, and Frankfurt, and then a quick trip through London to visit two customers there.
Though my phone’s battery had died and I was not able to take any photos, one of the most remarkable nights was a business dinner in the Heidelberg Castle. We got there late (in the dark and a light rain). In the court yard stood a single, huge Christmas tree, and the castle was dark and deserted. It was gorgeous and it was silent.
In London, my Uber driver took me home after a company dinner, and we spun by Buckingham Palace, so I took a photo with my phone. Again, the scene was deserted. And beautiful.
Back home, and after getting out of work, had some family time, and time to write again. Both have been nice. 🙂
One of the two “buck brothers” in our yard, Christmas Day, 2019
One of my seeming multitude of WIPs is the first novel I ever wrote. It is a gritty, tactical depiction of an infantry squad leader in a “Light” infantry division deployed to the Persian Gulf war. Through the four days of fighting he winds up the Platoon Leader. Much like Youth In Asia, it is not so much about heros doing superhuman things. Instead, it is about young men trying to accomplish their mission and stay alive.
Work on that novel has been a multi-decade, on again, off again exercise. Over the last ~9 months I’ve decided to revisit it. Though I still enjoy the story and the characters, and I think much of it is good and engaging, it has its flaws and is need of substantial work.
One area in which it needs work is more accurate setting details about the daily life of soliders in Desert Shielf and Desert Storm, more details on the terrain and weather, etc. Which brought me to this book. It has very mixed reivews on Amazon, but not because it is not accurate… Below is a copy and paste (with a few tweaks) of the review I posted to Amazon.
I’ll start with the blurb: “Alex Vernon with Neal Creighton, Jr., Greg Downey, Rob Holmes, and David Trybula with foreword by General Barry R. McCaffrey, retired (commander of the 24th Division during Desert Shield and Desert Storm) Winner of the 1999 Army Historical Foundation Distinguished Writing Award: A highly personal account of the day-to-day experiences of the five platoon leaders who served in the same tank battalion during Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm…”
My review…
Though not without its shortcomings, this book is an exceptionally personal presentation of the thoughts, fears, triumphs, and mistakes of young lieutenants in the US Army preparing for and in combat. Its strength is the deep – and honest – exploration of what young officers feel and experience as platoon leaders. These officers’ dedication to their country and especially their men is beyond question and rings true through their sharing.
To emphasize what the authors call out a number of times, this is their view of the war they experienced, and there can be no one, all-encompassing view of this or any war. The actual war is – as it was historically – brief and one-sided. The five platoon leaders share great detail of their race across southeast Iraq and the immense combat power they helped unleash on the hapless and inept Iraq military. The combat prowess of the US Army, of which these five lieutenants were a material part, is impressive. But in all cases, this is five unique and personal views of what they experienced.
Though a scholarly work that is well documented and organized, it is arguably too long. A significant portion of the book covers the many months the 24th division spent in Saudi Arabia preparing for combat. Though the color of daily life in the various platoons is interesting and provides deep historical detail, it becomes tedious.
The war, such as it was, is depicted in a relatively short portion of the book and consists mostly of relentless driving and short, profoundly one-sided destruction of the few Iraqi units that actually tried to fight.
The final section of the book is an honest, personal sharing by the lieutenants, reflections on their experiences and how it helped shape their decisions to leave the Army. In many ways, it echoed my own experience.
After earning my commission in 1985 and graduating from the Army’s Airborne and Ranger school and serving in the 7th ID(L), I also opted to leave active duty after completing my Advanced course…and the Berlin wall came down. I was on orders to join an armor division in Germany managing a battalion motor pool. I could not imagine a worse fate for a light infantryman: 3 years of turning in equipment as America extracted most of our military out of the reunified Germany.
I separated from the Army and was on terminal leave hanging out with my friends in Europe before I was to start graduate school when, while wandering around Greece, an endless stream of C-141s began flying over, headed southeast. The war had started, and the first American military units were heading to Saudi Arabia.
Similar to the experiences shared by these young men, though I was never in combat, I had been the platoon leader for infantry, anti-tank and scout platoons, as well as a company executive officer. In various ways, the authors of The Eyes of Orion note there is no greater job in the Army than being a platoon leader. I will quibble and say that being a company commander of a combat unit is equally exhilarating. After my time on active duty, I joined the National Guard and commanded an M2 Bradley company of an Enhanced Readiness Brigade.
So much of what these officers shared in the final section of the book echoed my own experiences and thinking. Being a platoon leader is an exciting time, but it is also incredibly daunting and lonely as these men described.
A young lieutenant’s experience and perception of the Army is greatly influenced by his platoon sergeant and his company commander. This is triply so in combat, I’m sure. There is no officer’s club to retreat to on Friday nights to learn from your peers in an informal setting, there are no roommates to compare notes with in the evening, there are no siblings or parents to call when you need a sounding board. As a young officer – learning the ropes of what it really means to lead in combat – you can find yourself very much alone, and often the enforcer of unpopular and sometimes idiotic orders. You constantly think: Mission first, men always. You fear you won’t bring them all home. You fear you will fail them when they need you most.
Overwhelmingly, the writers of this book depicted competent and insightful leaders above them and dedicated, trusting young men in their command. There were some exceptions, which I’ll leave for future readers to discover. On the whole, though, they were well-led, well-equipped, well cared for, and they took their responsibilites seriously. So much so that at times their own self-doubt became almost debilitating.
As detailed in the book, the coalition brought to bear overwhelming weapon systems and withering firepower. Frightening not just to imagine being on the receiving end, but frightening because of how close together the units operated, and how often that ended in fratricide or near fratricide. On this count, what these leaders shared is both tragic and disheartening.
I highly recommend this book especially to young officers and those about to earn their commission. The first half can become tiresome, and the combat scenes are short and one-sided, but the flavor of life as a young officer, and what can be learned to help you prepare for your first years as a leader is of tremendous value.
It has been a hard couple years for professional and family health reasons, though I’m not going to detail it all here. The good news is that (knock on wood) things may be settling down a bit.
I’ve started writing again. That is the good news. The bad news is that with 7 different novels in flight I’m all over the place…working on one for one week, and then jumping to another for a week then off to the third and fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh all in random order and for random durations.
One of my major failings of late is not being able to focus. Needless to say I’ve not been able to stay focused for the last several years for more than a week or two at a time on any one writing project.
As an aside, my first novel — Youth in Asia — continues to sell surprisingly well given that it has been four and a half years since I published it. The novel has sold about 4,200 copies, and I’ve donated well over $2,000 from sales. Frankly, it is embarrassing to admit how long ago I published it.
On a completely unrelated topic, my attempt at growing Giant Sequoias continues…
The Giant Sequoias
Preparing to transplant Giant Sequoias
Of the thirteen seeds that came in the little kit I bought on Amazon for $7, we have three sprouts. I’m not sure if any more have started but are not yet visible, so I will prep six pots. In addition to what you see above, I added a healthy helping of sand.
As you can see in the photo below, the small tube in front of my computer is where the seeds started. I laid out a sheet of aluminum foil to empty the contents of the tube into so I don’t make a mess or lose any of the seeds.
Where I normally sit to do my editing, I’ve set up a small station to do the transplanting.
We only found three seeds that had germinated, but we did find the other 10 seeds. As you can see below, the sprouts are small and very fragile. We are trying to keep as much of the original dirt around their root as we can.
Giant Sequoias starting small…in a tube I divided into quartersExif_JPEG_420
We got the three sprouts into the pots. The other ten seeds we put on the top of the fourth pot and sprinkled the dirt that they came with over them. I marked each seed with a small white rock. Odds are low that any will grow at this point, but thought we’d give them one more shot.
I started this project on a lark, but now that they are growing I’ve been giving more thought to where to plant them on our property when the time comes. Though they reportedly can grow in central Texas, when full grown (long after I’m dead and gone), they can consume more than 500 gallons of water per day. Though we have a ‘wet weather’ creek behind our home, and I’m assuming the water table is not too far below it, and though I can plant at least one in reach of where our sprinkler covers, I can’t imagine pumping 500 gallons of water at it a day. I’ll let my descendants figure that out if it lasts that long…
If all goes well, I figure I’ll put them in big pots next summer, probably of the 5-gallon variety. I’ll put those on the deck. Then after the trees are at least six feet tall, move them to the yard.
Now that is done…on to Thanksgiving and more writing and editing. Hopefully I can focus on one thing at a time.
Twenty years ago when they were building the house in which we live — which is on a steep slope — they belatedly decided to add a walk out basement. The only way to add it to the house’s design, though, was to punch a 6-foot square hole through the first floor and put a spiral staircase in. At the bottom of the stairs is a short hallway into a dark room which you pass through to get to the well-lit basement.
We’ve made the dark room you pass through our study, which is where I do much of my writing.
The prior owners added wall sconces to lighten up the descent and chamber. I thought it fitting to swap them out for something that looked a bit more like torches. My family thinks I’m easily amused.
I think I’m just a writer entering my next adventure…
There are many ways to consider We The Living: As a Historial view of post-Revolutionary Russia. A love triangle. A tragedy. Rand’s autobiography (to a point). The nascent presentation of Rand’s developing philosophy.
All would be right.
On the surface, the novel is a grand telling with profound nuance and insight of the destruction of human spirits brought on by the denial of human rights. It is about rapidly maturing Soviet Russia starving and learning to starve its populace into obedience. In the early 1920s — much like North Korea today — it is a wrenching depicting of life being wrung out of every man, woman, and child to force reverence to the state and the dictators who run it.
And it is about the corruption and private repudiation of what such regimes stand for by their own leadership because such regimes simply can’t function without corruption and black markets controlled by the ruling elites. It is the most glaring and brutally dishonest contradiction and a key element on which Rand’s plot turns.
It is difficult to imagine that Rand finished such a complex and complete novel at the age of 29 and as her first novel no less. There is so much insight and so much detail that few veteran writers could compare favorably.
Impressive? Let’s not forget that English was not her first language.
Arguably some of the secondary characters are a bit contrived and their motivation too simplistic. But given its large cast and the novel’s massive scope, these are minor (and debatable) shortcomings.
By modern standards it is wordy and there is too much “head hopping”. The style is also thick with “telling” rather than showing, but what it does not tell is the emotional destruction or the implications of what is happening — that you have to discern for yourself, and it takes some work. It is a very tightly woven narrative. This is my second reading and the nuances are clearer to me now as a result.
It is a hard story to read precisely because it is a very sad depiction of a large family descending into the ash, groveling to live while (some of them) attempt to hold on to basic values of human rights. And it is a depiction of how the intellectually weak and those without an understanding of morality turn on their own families, offering them up for execution to win favor with the state’s leaders.
I’m a fan of all of Rand’s “big three” novels, though in many ways this is my favorite. Where Atlas Shrugged is her resounding triumph in a variety of ways, it is grinding and relentless in making her political points. In contrast, We The Living is more “literary”, a more fluid and emotional read.
It was a pleasure to read it again after first reading it 30 years ago. I’m sure I’ll read it again before another 30 years go by, and I will enjoy it even more.
It is an important, timeless depiction of what happens when human rights are denied.
I thought this article by Ancient Origins — and especially the photos — is very cool. In my own sci-fi, I strive for unique but believable new flora and fauna. Sometimes good examples are right here on Earth…
The Lost World of Socotra: The Most Alien-Looking Place on Earth
The landscape of the remote island of Socotra looks so foreign that it could almost pass as an alien planet. Its native flora is so rare and unique that the island looks like something out of a science-fiction movie. But Socotra is very real, and is home to over 1,000 unique species of fauna and 825 rare species of flora , including varieties of plants that have been on earth for over 20 million years.
See the entire article and their amazing photos at the Ancient Origins site…
Last month we were in southern England, and we spent a week in Oxford. One of the primary reasons was to visit the JRR Tolkien exhibit at Oxford’s famous Bodleian Library.
The exhibit is impressive and still open. It is free of charge, but you do have to book your tickets. To learn more, see their site. As you would expect, it features many JRR Tolkien books and details of his life. Beyond that, I was surprised by how much art he generated.
Below are a number of pictures from our Tolkien-oriented travels around Oxford. Besides the exhibit, we visited the pub that he and CS Lewis frequented, his grave, and his home.
