April 18, 1906

In the week coming up, well, next week, too... such an 'odd' week of birthday and event anniversaries that all strangely fell during the same seven-ten days:
Hitler's Birthday: April 20
Titanic Sinking: April  14/15
The American Civil War, April 12
 and so many more!

On April 18, 1906, the Great San Francisco Earthquake occurred. That has always fascinated me, even when I walk the streets of that city, wondering what it would have been like. I did  a lot of research when I wrote THE TIME OF HIS LIFE, Andy Mackpeace's Second Time Travel Adventure, because he and Miranda accidentally end up there.

An excerpt from Chapter 6:

Opposite Andy was the stairway leading down to the first floor. It too was intact and still attached to the wall. At the top of the stairs was another bedroom door. Miranda stood in that doorway, motionless.

“Miranda!” Andy yelled. “Are you okay? What is this? What happened?” His friend didn’t respond. 

“Miranda!”
            Miranda was a very intelligent girl who clearly understood an earthquake when she saw one, but she was also a girl from New Hampshire where earthquakes were not likely to happen. Reading about them and experiencing one were two very different phenomena.

“Miranda!!” Andy shouted again.
            “It’s an earthquake,” she yelled, snapping out of her shock and coming to her senses. “We have to get out of here!”

She headed for the stairs when the second, more deadly tremor hit. Miranda was thrown forward by the shock and her face hit the steps. At the same time, Andy was shoved to the ground backward toward his bed. He had no more control over where he landed than if a quarterback had picked him up and heaved him.

As much as he tried, Andy couldn’t get up. Another quick BOOM! and the massive bed lifted up, fell over and buried him up to his waist. The large wardrobe keeled over too, and Andy barely had time to cover his head with his hands. If it weren’t for the fullness of the bed acting as a cushion, Andy would have been crushed.

As the house rocked, a terrific screeching noise started to happen. The stairway was wrenching loose. With every BOOM! the stairs pulled away a bit, then slammed back into the wall. The nails holding it together were coming undone with each pull and slam. Like a stubborn dog playing tug of war with a toy, the stairs moved out from the wall, then back, then out, then back. With each tug, the stairs grew shakier and shakier.      

The house groaned and when the nails popped, the stairway came crashing down, the steps, the railing, the carpet, all of it. It folded into itself and landed with a giant heap on the first floor hall. Dust and dirt swept up and around Andy like someone had emptied out a giant vacuum cleaner bag.     

Once again, the earthquake stopped.

Silence.

Andy opened his eyes. He coughed and spat out the dirt that filled his mouth.

The house, by now, was completely tilted. The room, the floor, everything was leaning toward the stairway, or rather, where the stairway used to be.  Andy pulled and struggled and squeezed out from under the bed and looked over at Miranda’s bedroom.

Miranda was gone.

THE SCULPTURED ROCKS in Hebron, NH and Illustrator Ken Hornbeck

Sculptured Rocks, swimming hole: Hebron, NH

As a kid, I always loved a book cover that combined the various themes read within its pages. The fun part was looking at the cover and wondering what the various images had to do with each other.
When collaborating with Ken Hornbeck, illustrator for all my novels (Except THE PROMISE OF LIVING), he instantly understood my desires. 

For example, in THE SCULPTURED ROCKS, not only does the main character Dan go to the Rocks, a local swimming hole (the picture is above), but also deals with a haunted house and being on a baseball Little League Team. I wanted to incorporate all three major themes and Ken did this terrifically. In the cover you can see the house, the rocks and the baseball diamond. 

The big bonus is if you closely enough, well, can YOU find the ghost?

All my novels are available on Smashwords and on Amazon.

Book Review: Mystery on Church Hill by Steven K. Smith

Steven K. Smith has written a short Middle Grade novel (#2 in a series) called Mystery on Church Hill where the main character, a 3rd grader named Sam Jackson, and his older brother (4th grader), Derek, join forces to solve a mystery. While the book describes itself as geared for readers aged 7-12, I would venture to guess it would be best suited for seven and eight year olds. Middle Grade is a very large genre. 

It's a short piece where I was reminded of the "Scooby Doo" series of old and I couldn't tell if Mr. Smith was exhibiting a tongue in cheek homage to an old favorite of his (the villain actually says, "meddling"!) or simply innocently writing toward an audience for which this book is intended. 

The story is set in Richmond, Virginia and it felt like a world most comfortable for those readers who enjoy and resonate with a more suburban culture. There is a 'cartoon' feel here as all the adults are one-dimensional, and again, because of my estimate of the age range of its readers, the book would still hold their interest. Often, Sam and Derek felt like they were whirling around inside a giant cartoon. Everything felt rather antiseptic, and I was looking for something more solid to hang my hat upon, but then again, a seven year old would probably not even notice. 

Where Mr. Smith shines is when he involves us in actual historic events. The places and people and the skullduggery that beleaguered the famous and infamous of the 18th Century suddenly grounds the book and the cartoon wash instantly evaporates. Mr. Smith is passionate about this and the book is a terrific portal to introduce history to young readers in a captivating way. 

My head scratching is with the characters themselves. I found that Sam and his 3rd grade companions acted and talked as if they were much older. The boys call each other by their last names in jock-like fashion and they interrupt the teacher incessantly in the classroom scenes with odd random one-liners. While I am completely supportive of writers who raise the bar on vocabulary, I was thrown by this level of discourse among third graders: 
“Wow, thanks for the pep talk, Derek,” said Sam. “You should be a motivational speaker."
And then there is this one: 
“A solar microscope, very interesting! It actually fits, given his Enlightenment philosophy – using light and your senses and all.”

I must be out of the loop. 

It's a quick read with a nice wrap up lesson. I applaud Mr. Smith also for a portion of his sales going to support CHAT: Church Hill Activities & Tutoring, a non-profit group who work with inner-city youth in the Church Hill area of Richmond. 

Perhaps that's the best lesson of all.

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

For those curious to read the third time travel novel featuring Andy Mackpeace, here is Chapter One from ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD, due out in October 2013. 

Chapter 1

Andy Mackpeace was hauling his navy blue suitcase off the Baggage Claim conveyor belt. Flashes of cowboy hats and boots and belt buckles surrounded him and it finally hit the fourteen-year-old boy that Missoula, Montana was a long ways away from Silver Lake, New Hampshire.

            His best friend Roger Stanley hunched next to him while his parents stood near the exit doors and Mr. Stanley calling Andy’s father to say that the kid arrived on time.

“C’mon Andy, yes or no, did you bring the stick?” Roger whispered.

            “You’re starting to sound like a drug dealer,” Andy smiled.

Andy and Roger had grown up together in New Hampshire, and last year, the two boys and their other friend, Miranda Roberts, had unexpectedly time traveled. Andy’s bizarre, psychic Grandmother Geri had bequeathed him an assorted-colored collection of incense sticks, and when the three of them lit one, they ended up in Ante-Bellum Georgia. Grandma Geri had died a year ago, but Andy still communicated with her in his mind. Mostly.

Roger moved to Missoula last September when his father got a Department Chair at the University of Montana.

“Yes, I brought it,” Andy whispered back, “it’s in my suitcase and I hope it’s not all broken up.”

“A new piece, right?”

“Yesss,” Andy said. “I picked it from the box yesterday. Never been used. It’s an orange one.”

“Orange? Are you sure that is-”

“Yessssss! It’s fine, bro. Trust me,” Andy laughed at Roger’s questions. “Now shut up because your mom’s coming over to get us.”

“Are you ready, Andy?” Mrs. Stanley asked. “Anything else coming down the chute?”

“No, this is it,” Andy said lifting his suitcase and heading toward the door. He took two steps, bumped into it with a thud and stopped, surprised, looking at the portal wondering what had gone wrong.

“What time did you get up this morning?” Mrs. Stanley asked him, opening it for him and guiding him outside.

“4:00. My dad drove me to Boston, then I flew to Denver, a two hour layover, and then another flight to here.”

“Time difference and long trips can make anybody tired,” she said. “I think, Roger, it would be better if Andy ate some dinner and then called it an early night. He’ll be more like himself in the morning.”        

Andy had been bugging his parents since Christmas to let him fly alone to Montana in June right after his fourteenth birthday. He was going to be a freshmen in high school in September, he had argued, he would be all right. His parents eventually said yes, and Andy did every odd job he could find to save the dollars that dripped in to pay for the flight. On the two-hour drive to Boston that morning, Andy’s dad talked to him like he was much older, like he was already shaving.

“I’m trusting you will manage this fine,” he said. He didn’t tell Andy the boy was one year shy of exemption from the Unaccompanied Minors Program, and airline regulations required a flight attendant to walk him from transfer to transfer and make sure his boarding passes were all lined up, making Andy, at times, especially with the stares from other people, feel idiotic.

The Missoula airport was miniscule compared to Logan’s and they walked to their car in the tiny parking lot. The sun was shining over the Rockies and the mountains made Andy stop and blink. They were beautiful.

“Good night!” Andy said. “Those are huge!”

“It’s a far cry from New Hampshire, right?” Roger said, grabbing his friend. “It’s a completely different world out here.”

In the far distance, Andy heard someone riding a horse.