Monthly Archives: December 2018

Happy New Year 2019

Living in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, Writing, , ,

Happy New Year! Time flies, doesn’t it? I feel as if I just wrote my 2018 New Year’s post. Since I post my resolutions on my blog, I can’t pretend at the end of the year to forget what resolutions I made in January. A quick look back at last year’s post reminded me I did not finish as many writing projects as I’d planned.

I work hard to be a successful author, but as an author, I must wear many hats. On my best days, I’m able to sit down and work on my novel, and on my worst days, I spend my time promoting my books, my website, or my mystery newsletters. I couldn’t have known a year ago how much time I would spend in the coming year working on promotion and on building my author platform, and the more time I spend on promotion, the less time I have available to write. It’s a trade-off, and usually, I choose writing, but during the last few months, I decided to get serious about my author business.

Although my next novel, Karluk Bones, is not yet ready to send to my publisher, I finished the rough draft this past week. I resolve to send Karluk Bones to my publisher by late spring and have it in the hands of readers by late summer or early fall. I know how long it takes to edit and publish a novel, so this seems like a reasonable resolution.

My second resolution is a promise to myself to finish editing my wildlife book and get it published and to market by the end of the year. I made this same resolution last year and didn’t accomplish it, but I hope 2019 will be different. My wildlife book requires extra time and energy in every facet of the writing and editing process. I know the book will never be perfect, but I want to do the best job I can on it, and I hope it will be worth the wait.

Karluk Bones and The Wildlife of Kodiak Island will be my two be my two main writing projects for 2019, but I hope to begin my next novel sometime this coming spring or summer. I already have a rough idea for the plot, and I would love to start writing it now. My next planned non-fiction book will be a compilation of my true stories of murder from Alaska. These are the tales I write every month for my Mystery Newsletter, and I have more than enough compiled for a book.

I’d better stop before I promise too much. I plan to remain active in The Reader’s and Writer’s Book Club, and I hope to write more articles for True Crime: Case Files and Medium. I also want to leave enough time in my schedule to explore other opportunities I discover.

I haven’t written a wildlife post in several weeks, but I’m returning to fish and will write about rockfish over the next few weeks.  Thank you for reading my posts this past year, and I hope you will stay with me through 2019.

Happy New Year, I wish you health, happiness, and prosperity!

Robin Barefield is the author of three Alaska wilderness mystery novels, Big Game, Murder Over Kodiak, and The Fisherman’s Daughter. To download a free copy of one of her novels, watch her webinar about how she became an author and why she writes Alaska wilderness mysteries. Also, sign up below to subscribe to her free, monthly newsletter on true murder and mystery in Alaska.

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Happy Holidays

Living in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, Uncategorized, Writing, ,

Wherever you are and whatever holiday you celebrate this time of year, I wish you peace and happiness. I celebrate Christmas, and I thought this year it would be fun to follow my friend, Author Mary Ann Poll’s lead. For my Thanksgiving post, Mary Ann sent a note from her protagonist, Kat, describing how Kat celebrates Thanksgiving in Ravens Cove, Alaska. So, for my Christmas post, I decided to look in on my main character, Jane Marcus, and see how she celebrates the holiday.

For those of you who don’t know Jane, she is a fisheries biologist at the Kodiak Marine Center. She is unmarried but has a long-distance relationship with an FBI agent who lives in Virginia. Let’s see how she’s doing this holiday season.

I disconnected with my father and wiped the trickle of tears from my face only to open the dam for a full flood. I knew now I should have flown back to Kansas for the holidays. Nothing happens at the Marine Center during the Christmas break, and I could have taken leave for a week or two to fly home to see my father. He sounded lonely on the phone, and although he told me he’d spent a nice afternoon with my brother and his family, I could tell he missed me, and I missed him. I hadn’t seen him in a year.

I’d made the trip to Kansas the previous year for Christmas, but I hated flying during the holidays, and the family obligations overwhelmed me. This year, I wanted peace and quiet, so I stayed in Kodiak, and now I wanted my family. I laughed at myself. I needed to adopt a cat or maybe a goldfish.

I didn’t plan to spend the entire day at home alone. My friend, Dana, invited me to a Christmas party. I think Dana and her current boyfriend, Jack, invited half the town of Kodiak to their Christmas buffet. Jack volunteered to host the event at his place since Dana’s tiny house wouldn’t hold a crowd larger than three.

As I walked down the hall to my bedroom to change my clothes, I heard my phone chirp in the living room. I hurried back, grabbed the phone from the coffee table, and felt a smile play across my mouth when I read the phone’s display.

“Merry Christmas, Agent Morgan,” I said.

“Merry Christmas to you, Jane. Where are you?”

“I’m at home in Kodiak, and you?”

“I’m in my apartment in Virginia right now, but I’m flying to Miami tomorrow on a big case. I’ll  be there for a few weeks,” Morgan said

“I thought you were working on a string of murders in Indiana.”

“I was,” he said. “My involvement in the case ended yesterday.”

“Did you catch the killer?”

“We did, but not until after he’d murdered six women.”

“At least you got him,” I said.

Morgan didn’t say anything for a moment, and then, “I’m sorry Jane. I have another call, and I need to take it.”

“Maybe I’ll see you one day again.” I hoped I hid the bitterness I felt.

“You will,” he said. “Take care.”

I sank into the couch and began to cry again. Once the tears stopped, I realized I was in no mood for a party. I called Dana. She must have been busy because she didn’t answer until the sixth ring.

“Where are you?” She asked.

“I’m sorry Dana, but I don’t feel well. I won’t be able to make it to your party.”

“What? Nonsense. I’ll send Jack to pick you up. He has agreed not to consume alcohol tonight, so he is our designated driver for the evening.”

I thanked Dana but told her I was in no mood for a party. I headed to my kitchen, grabbed a bag of potato chips, poured myself a glass of wine, and turned on the television, quickly flipping past a parade of holiday shows until I found an old episode of Dateline. I settled on the couch and tried to concentrate on the show.

Fifteen minutes later, my doorbell rang. I opened the door a crack, and saw Jack’s smiling face.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I told Dana I wouldn’t be able to make it to the party.”

Jack smiled and shrugged. He looked even more handsome than usual. His black parka matched his eyes, and even in the fading light, I could see the dimple on his right cheek.

“You know Dana,” Jack said. “She gets what she wants, and I do as she says. She told me to collect you using any means necessary and bring you to our party.”

I laughed. “Do you plan to kidnap me?”

He shrugged again. “Speaking of kidnapping, Dana said to tell you we are discussing the recent abduction in Anchorage.”

“What abduction?” I asked

“You didn’t hear about it?”

I shook my head.

“A big oil executive. I can’t remember which company, but anyway, three masked men entered his house while he and his wife and kids were celebrating Christmas Eve. One of the guys pulled a gun and told him to come with them, or they’d start shooting his family.”

“Whoa,” I said. Then I took a step back and narrowed my eyes at Jack. “Are you making this up just to get me to go to your party?”

Jack held his hands in the air. “It’s true. You can check the Internet. Dana says with your detective skills, we need your input on the crime.”

“You’re playing dirty, jack,” I said. “You know I can’t resist discussing a crime.” I pushed the door open and let Jack into my house. “Have a seat,” I said. “I need to change my clothes.”

Have a wonderful holiday, and I will be back here next week to discuss my New Year’s resolutions. Meanwhile, leave a comment and tell me about your resolutions.

Robin Barefield is the author of three Alaska wilderness mystery novels, Big Game, Murder Over Kodiak, and The Fisherman’s Daughter. To download a free copy of one of her novels, watch her webinar about how she became an author and why she writes Alaska wilderness mysteries. Also, sign up below to subscribe to her free, monthly newsletter on true murder and mystery in Alaska.

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Introducing Author Masterminds’ Readers and Writers Book Club

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 As a way of saying THANK YOU for supporting me as an author, my publisher has authorized me to give my blog readers a free gift—a LIFETIME membership to the new Readers and Writers Book Club.

Memberships will soon be selling for $99–but you’ll never have to pay, as long as you accept my gift and sign up soon.

Your free lifetime Readers and Writers Book Club membership includes:
– Member Newsletter: Hear directly from authors in your inbox!

-Members Only Access: Unlock the private members’ area and exclusive content from the club’s authors.

– Community Access: Inside our private Facebook group you’ll have direct access to authors and will be able to share in the fun with other readers as well!

Here’s how to claim your gift (worth $99) to receive a lifetime membership for FREE!

Step One: Go here>> http://www.readersandwritersbookclub.com/join-the-club and enter your email address to claim your FREE lifetime membership to the club.

Step Two: Create your username and password on the following page.

Step Three: Login to the members’ area and enjoy the goodies published there!

You’re also allowed to give these memberships as a gift, as long as you forward this email or the link to whoever you’d like to share it with!

The club is expected to close free memberships after the first 2,000 people join, so make sure you grab yours here: http://www.readersandwritersbookclub.com/join-the-club

I hope to interact with my readers in several ways. I would love to read and discuss wilderness mystery novels, and perhaps we can choose a different novel every month. I encourage readers of my true crime newsletters to stop by the Facebook group and discuss the latest crime I’ve profiled. The Facebook groupwould also be a great place to talk about wildlife and Alaska, so please signup, and enjoy the fun. We have authors in our group who write in a wide variety of genres, so we have something for everyone!

Send the club link to anybody else you’d like to gift a gift to this season. 

Thank you once again for your support!

I look forward to meeting you at the club.

Robin

Robin Barefield is the author of three Alaska wilderness mystery novels, Big Game, Murder Over Kodiak, and The Fisherman’s Daughter. To download a free copy of one of her novels, watch her webinar about how she became an author and why she writes Alaska wilderness mysteries. Also, sign up below to subscribe to her free, monthly newsletter on true murder and mystery in Alaska.

Mystery Newsletter

Sign Up for my free, monthly Mystery Newsletter about true crime in Alaska.

Mary Ann Poll’s Journey to Becoming a Published Author

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Three weeks ago, I introduced you to Mary Ann Poll when she generously shared a post about her character Kat’s Thanksgiving in the small town of Ravens Cove, Alaska. This week, Mary Ann has written a guest post for my blog about her journey to becoming a published author. Mary Ann writes Christian-based, supernatural thrillers. I’ve read Ravens Cove, and it is a thrilling ride. I’ll let Mary Ann explain her books to you.

My Journey to Becoming a Published Author
by Mary Ann Poll

There is one thing to be said for coincidences. There aren’t any. And, before you think I’m crazy or just ‘narrow-minded’ consider the following story of how I became a published author.

A day came when I was confronted with an indisputable fact: My eternal soul lives in nothing more than crockery. That day came in May 1998.

I awoke for another day of work. Hands reaching toward the ceiling in that wonderful morning stretch were stopped instantly by sharp, tear-producing pain. As the initial pain subsided, I downed a pain reliever and was at my desk by 9 am. The pain returned with a vengeance by noon. At 1 pm I found myself in the emergency room. A disc had herniated in my neck, and I faced surgery with a long recovery.

This small writing is from a piece I wrote several years ago when I was asked to describe how I became an author. As they say, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.” Indeed, He does. Because if a disc in my neck had not herniated, if I had not read 100 books in ninety days because I could do nothing else while I healed, and if I had not listened to a good friend who suggested I write a novel, I would not be writing this article today.

My first book in what is now the Iconoclast series took many more years before it saw the black and white of printing. That journey was full of trips down other paths – going back to work time and again to make the almighty dollar and avoid the emotions and mental weariness that writing took. I took courses, joined online chat groups and talked about writing until I was blue in the face. In the end, I accepted the idea of writing was not going to go away. That was the day I sat down to write a book. It took twelve years to summon the courage and face the passion that would not leave, no matter what I did.

In all of the trips down other pathways, one helped me. I found out about National Novel Writing Month from a contact I made on a Christian writers forum. This is a yearly event where over 300,000 writers come together and grind out a novel in 30 days. I had tried everything else, so what was there to lose? So, I committed to the project. Low and behold, Ravens Cove was born.

Once written, then I was faced with the frightening and somewhat overwhelming question every writer has: “What now?” My answer for several months was, “nothing!” This was when I first discovered that writing a book is akin to giving birth. I wasn’t putting my ‘baby’ out into the world for criticism and rejection.

So, I let the book sit in the dark for several months. It stayed in the rawest of formats, and I think I was actually in denial that I had written an entire novel. I didn’t have (or make) the time to edit it because I had no clue where to go and who to trust with my ‘baby.’

My husband read the prologue and told me it was great. Of course, he did. He wanted dinner and to sleep in his own bed – what else would he have said? I knew he meant it. I also knew he loved me, so I dismissed his compliment.

It just so happened that my father-in-law came to visit the summer after I wrote Ravens Cove. He asked if I might allow him to read it. His reading it was not such a frightening thought, and, to be honest, I really wanted his opinion. And, I trusted his view because he has a Ph.D. in education and had published works of his own. He also happened to be the most avid reader I had ever met. So, I thought if anyone could

I gave him the book. He and my husband left that weekend for our RV in Anchor Point. He read it there. He came back and told me he really liked it. He said he had read authors he thought should have never been published. And, he thought mine should be.

My husband, with the I-told-you-so-look, agreed. Then, he took it a step further and emailed links to several publishers and publishing houses with information on what it took to get the book to press. And, here’s where Providence is again disguised as coincidence. One of those names was Publication Consultants.

I debated sending out query letters to the ‘big houses.’ I heard stories of books that were tied up for months, even a year or more, by those ‘big houses’ that had initially accepted the author’s work and then left them hanging forever. I debated the self-publishing houses and again read and heard of the horror stories of authors that were taken financially to the point it wasn’t worthwhile to pursue marketing their books. With all this, I decided I wanted to be able to look a publisher in the eye. So, I met with Evan Swensen of Publication Consultants.

Before I did, I reviewed the website and the different contracts available to an author. They all seemed above board and fair. I reviewed what authors had said about them, and it sounded good. So, I called.

Evan reviewed the first few pages of what was to be Ravens Cove. There were some problems but he told me the story was good and he would publish it-after I took it to an editor to fix the ‘boulders’-his word for problems. The rest is history. Since 2010, I have been privileged to call Publication Consultants my publishing house.

Publication Consultants was and still is invaluable to this me. They have taught, and are still teaching me, the ins and outs of the road to becoming a successful author. There have been numerous mountains to climb and valleys to traverse. They have stuck with me throughout the process and have opened doors that self-publishing could not. Without Evan Swensen and his staff, I would not have reached the goal of becoming a published author.

As I stated when I began this article, there are no coincidences. Each occurrence that seemed so small in and of their selves led me to Publication Consultants and the adventure of being a published author. To date, the journey continues. The entire Iconoclast Thriller series is complete. And, when ready and God willing, the next book will be published with the assistance of Publication Consultants.

Thank you, Mary Ann, for sharing your incredible journey with us. In my experience, writing a novel is the easiest part of the “author” process. The true work begins with editing, followed by publishing, and finally, the never-ending, tedious job of promotion. Mary Ann and I work very hard to promote our books, and we both belong to a promotional group called Author Masterminds. Our group is opening a reading club, and soon, I will invite you to join us. In the meantime, check out Mary Ann and her books. If you would like to know more about Mary Ann’s journey to becoming a published author, watch her webinar. At the end of the webinar, you will be able to download one of her books for free!

By the way, Mary Ann’s books would make perfect Christmas presents!

Robin Barefield is the author of three Alaska wilderness mystery novels, Big Game, Murder Over Kodiak, and The Fisherman’s Daughter. To download a free copy of one of her novels, watch her webinar about how she became an author and why she writes Alaska wilderness mysteries. Also, sign up below to subscribe to her free, monthly newsletter on true murder and mystery in Alaska.

Mystery Newsletter

Sign Up for my free, monthly Mystery Newsletter about true crime in Alaska.

Karluk Bones

Living in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, Writing, , , , , , , ,

Karluk Bones is the title of my fourth Alaska wilderness mystery. The book has taken me longer to write than I had planned, but I think it will be worth the wait. This week, I want to share a portion of the opening scene with you.

Those of you who have read my other novels know Dr. Jane Marcus is a biologist at the Kodiak Fisheries Tech Center. In this scene, Jane and three of her friends camp near Karluk Lake on Kodiak. The next morning, they plan to float the Karluk River, but a fire in the middle of the night derails their expedition.

___________________________________________________________________________

Karluk Bones

Saturday, May 24th

“Fire! Wake up! Fire!”

The cry yanked me from a pleasant dream where my camping companions and I sat around the campfire roasting marshmallows. Now, I realized the smoky inspiration for my dream emanated not from a campfire but a forest fire.

I struggled to sit in my sleeping bag while my fingers fumbled with the zipper. Did we leave our campfire burning? No, I remember Geoff throwing water on it, and then we all watched until the last curls of smoke evaporated.

I’d worn my clothes to bed, and as soon as I struggled out of my bag, I crawled through the fly of the small tent. Smoke filled the air, and my friend and colleague, Geoff Baker, my friend, Dana Baynes, and her new beau, Jack Parker, all stood, staring to the north. I followed their gazes and saw the flames, but the fire had not yet spread far.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“It looks like a campfire got out of hand,” Geoff said.

“It’s so dry,” Dana said. “It’s bound to spread before they can put it out.”

“And the wind is blowing this way,” Geoff added.

“We’d better help them,” Jack said.

“You’re right,” I said, “but I fear only Mother Nature will be able to extinguish a blaze in the midst of all this dead, dry vegetation.”

“I’ll dump out our food buckets,” Geoff offered. “We can use those to scoop up lake water to throw on the fire.”

“Sure,” Dana said, “We’ll do a bucket brigade.”

I doubted anything we did would help, but if we stayed where we were, we’d be burned alive. “I suggest sticking anything you can’t live without in your pocket,” I said.

“Good point, Doc. I’ll grab my phone,” Geoff said.

“I’m grabbing my raincoat just in case,” Dana added.

I nodded. “I hope we need our raincoats. Rain is the one thing that will extinguish this fire.”
Geoff, Jack, and I carried our bear-proof food buckets now empty of their contents, and Dana shouldered a pack full of first-aid gear. She also carried a small camp shovel.

We hiked along the shore of Karluk Lake. It was a dark, chilly night. Correction, it was a dark, chilly morning. Darkness is an infrequent visitor in late May on Kodiak Island, but I can testify it is dark at 3:00 am. We wore headlamps to light the beach along the lakeshore, and I glued my eyes to the ground so that I wouldn’t stumble over a large rock or a tree branch. The smell of smoke grew stronger with each step.

As we neared the fire, I could see the flames growing in intensity and slowly but steadily spreading toward the south and our camp.

“We should have packed our stuff and moved it out of the line of fire,” I said.

“I don’t think we could move our stuff far enough to get it out of the fire line unless we brought it with us and stashed it upwind from the flames,” Geoff said.

We clung to the lakeshore and skirted around the edge of the fire. As we neared the tent camp where the blaze had started, we saw four young men frantically packing their tents and gear and moving everything down the beach. Miraculously, it looked as if the flames had not touched their camp.

Dana ran toward the men. “Is everyone okay?” She called.

One of the young men stopped in his tracks and looked toward her, obviously surprised by her presence. “Our campfire got out of control,” he said. “I thought we put it out but guess we didn’t.”

The man slurred his speech and seemed confused. At first, I thought he had a natural physical or mental impairment, but then, I realized he was drunk, or to be more accurate, he hadn’t completely sobered up from being drunk. I took in the entire scene and watched his camping companions stumble to move their gear, their actions clumsy and awkward. They were all in the no man’s land between drunk and sober, the period of the night when you wake up and curse yourself for drinking too much alcohol. I admit I’d been there a time or two, and now I tried to muster some forgiveness for them stupidly getting drunk and letting their campfire burn out of control.

Forgiveness was not on Dana’s mind, and she immediately understood the situation. She dropped her pack on the ground and stood, hands on hips, glaring at the young man who had spoken to her. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” he said. “I’m not quite sober.”

“You are camping on an island with 3500 bears.” Dana walked toward him, her voice as loud as I’d ever heard it. “Many of those bears live near this lake.”

The young man looked at the ground and said nothing.

“If you want to camp on this Refuge, you need to be responsible.” Dana gestured to the spreading fire. “You started a fire by not putting out your campfire.”

“We tried to put it out,” the young man said.

“You tried?” Dana was now only about four feet away from the poor guy, all five feet nothing of her intimidating the young man as she screamed up at him.

Although the situation was dire, I nearly laughed as I watched the much larger man cower while petite Dana approached him. He flinched at each of her words as if she were slapping him in the face, and I thought she might slap him in the face when she got a few steps closer.

“I saw a video the other day,” Dana said. “An observant camper watched and videotaped a bunch of yahoos like you and your friends. They ate breakfast around their campfire, threw a little water on the fire, packed their gear, jumped in their raft, and headed down river. A few minutes after they’d left, a curious bear began sniffing their campfire. He put his paw on the hot embers, burned his paw and limped away, holding his burned paw in the air.” She took another step toward the young man who was now backing away from her. “I thought their lack of regard for the environment was disgusting until I see what you idiots managed to do here.”

I stood, caught up in the drama of Dana and the young camper when Geoff thumped me on the shoulder.

“Here, Doc,” he said, handing me a full bucket of lake water. “Let’s get this bucket brigade going.” He looked at Dana and the cowering campers. “Yo!” he yelled. “We need some help here; we have a fire to put out.”

The campers seemed happy for any excuse to escape Dana’s withering gaze and sharp reprimand. They found two more food buckets in their gear, emptied the contents, and hurried to stand in line between the lake and the burning fire.

I knew I couldn’t be the only one in this group who saw the futility of fighting a spreading wildfire with buckets of water, but buckets were all we had, and we needed to do something. There was no firefighting agency to call in the middle of the night to help put out a fire on the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge. If the fire hadn’t been extinguished by morning, we would notify the National Wildlife Refuge office in Kodiak, and perhaps they could ask for assistance from the Department of Natural Resources. Dana was a biologist for the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge, so she would know what to do. At present, Dana stood in the bucket brigade between the four campers, still lecturing them. If they weren’t sober by now, they would be soon, and between excessive alcohol, smoke, and Dana’s piercing voice, I didn’t envy any one of them the headache he would have for the next several hours.

We continued the steady progression of bucket passing as the sky slowly lightened. At 5:00 am, my arms were numb, my shoulders screamed with pain, and I had one of the worst headaches of my life. My comrades and I silently passed buckets, refusing to admit defeat. At 6:00 am, Mother Nature decided to lend us a helping hand. It started as a drizzle, but soon the rain pelted us in sheets.

I stepped out of the bucket line and said, “I think we can stop now.”

_________________________________________________________________________

While hiking back to their campsite, Jane and her friends stumble across human bones exposed by the burned vegetation. Are the bones ancient or modern, and how did this individual die? These are the first of many questions Jane asks Alaska State Trooper Sergeant Dan Patterson, and Jane won’t rest until she uncovers the answers and learns not only the identity of the man whose bones she found but also what or who caused his death.

I will share other outtakes of my novel at intervals over the next few months. Please let me know what you think. The above scene is the beginning of the book. Did it grab you and make you want to read more?

_________________________________________________________________________

Robin Barefield is the author of three Alaska wilderness mystery novels, Big Game, Murder Over Kodiak, and The Fisherman’s Daughter. To download a free copy of one of her novels, watch her webinar about how she became an author and why she writes Alaska wilderness mysteries. Also, sign up below to subscribe to her free, monthly newsletter on true murder and mystery in Alaska.

Mystery Newsletter

Sign Up for my free, monthly Mystery Newsletter about true crime in Alaska.