April 28, 2007 by Karl.

Good morning, my friends.

For your info:

Several people have called or written to say Barnes and Nobles doesn’t have my book listed yet.  I don’t know what the problem can be.  It’s the weekend, so I can’t get to the publisher to ask why.  In the meantime, go to http://www.amazon.com/ or http://www.publishamerica.com/ to order it on line.

It’s actually better for me, as they count your purchase as a sale and they’ll add up to whether or not I get another book published.

I have some great ones written, just waiting.  Help me out here!)

We’re sending out a thousand postcards today and letting others know by email.  Our new T-shirts are ready, as well as our sign for book signings.  We should be able to pick them up today.

Lots of work to do yet, but we’re getting there.  Hang in with us.  The book will be worth the wait.

It’s another beautiful day in paradise, which is what we call Rockport.  I love to look out and see Little Bay, the gulls, pelicans and other birds.

Come see us sometime.  We can feed the birds popcorn and I’ll sign your copy of my book.

Via Con Dias, my friends,

Karl

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April 25, 2007 by Karl.

When you buy my book, take a close look at the cover.  Those hands superimposed on the skyline of Dallas are more than window dressing.  In addition to a “play on words”, they are a mystery in themselves.

If you know sign language, you’ll see the hands are spelling out the main clue to the mystery contained within.  If you don’t sign, you can find a book at your local library to help you decipher the clues.

We got good news yesterday when I ordered 300 copies of the book to sell at book signings.  The publisher says now the book will be out within two to three weeks.  We hope they’re right.

When you’re done visiting my web site, please take the time to give me some feedback on the contents.  If you liked the short stories, let me know.  I’ll continue to update the link with more short stories over the next few months.

Things are moving along quickly.  We’re getting anxious to get out there and have the book signings.  If you’re around Rockport, check out the Rockport Pilot or look for my sign outside of several stores where we plan to hold the sessions.

If you bought my book on line, stop by and let me autograph your first edition of my first book.  Let’s hope it’s the begining of many you’ll add to your collection.

Thanks again for stopping by to visit.  Ya’ all come back.

Via Con Dias,

Karl

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April 23, 2007 by Karl.

Good afternoon for a change, my friends. It’s another windy day.  No fishing, but I got my fill two days ago when I caught a 31 inch redfish.  It was the largest red I’ve hooked so far, and a wonderful 25 minute battle.

I have some good news.  My book is now ready to order.

Go to http://www.publishamerica.com/  to order it on line.

The ISBN number is:  1-4241-7865-7

Tell your friends and family.  We need your support.

You can also ask your favorite book store to order it in advance.

I also have a little sad news.  I was unable to finalize the plans I originally had for the Fishing Program for the wounded troops.

But, in reality, this makes for more good news.  Instead of funding that program, my wife and I will make a donation to an already existing project to assist them in serving our wounded troops.

The project is called:  “Wounded Warrior Project”, which you can check out on line by typing in the same words.  We have pledged an initial $5,000 for the project.  When sales of my book, “Signs of Our Times” reach the 100,000 mark, we will donate an additional $15,000.

I also received the press release Publish America is sending to several newspapers in Texas to publicize Signs of Our Times.

Things are moving along rapidly.  The publish date for the novel is listed as June 18, 2007.

So, I’ll sit here and listen to a little Dan Seals music, and finalize my third book, “The Cyrus Caper”.

“She flew the coupe” is a cute song.  It makes me think of my first girl friend in first grade.  Young love – ain’t it grand?

More later.  Thanks for dropping in.  Order that book!

Via Con Dias,

Karl

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April 22, 2007 by Karl.

Good evening, my friends.  Thanks for dropping by.

My neighbor made an astute comment the other day.

We were talking about the recent shootings at Virginia Tech and he asked me why my flag was flying at half-staff.

I told him “because the President ordered it.  Plus, I wanted to show my sorrow about the senseless deaths.”

“When will the President order the flag flown at half-staff for the nearly 4,000 troops who have died in Iraq?” He asked.

I had no answer that made sense.  It was then I realized how true his question was.

Yeah, we give our troops a decent burial and a color guard with all the pageant and ceremony, but don’t they deserve a little more?

Another friend told me something I wasn’t aware of.  Up until a few days ago, when a dead soldier was returned to his home town, the coffin was sometimes unloaded unceremoniously by using a forklift instead of using an honor guard.

It took the objections of the parents of a dead son to change this practice.

Seems sort of callous for someone willing to give his or her all for their country, doesn’t it?  Why didn’t someone notice this before?

And no one flies their flag at half-staff for them.  Why not?

The recent revelations about the treatment of our wounded warriors at the medical center in our nation’s capitol make us shake our heads in anger, but do we really do anything about them?

Our Congressmen/women and Senators will do their usual thing, shaking their fists and pointing fingers at everyone but themselves.  Then they forget about it and go back to raising more money for their next campaign or to fatten their war chests after they retire with full pay.

If one of the members of the Congress or Senate dies, they fly the flag at half-staff for them.  Why?

Our fighting men and women must serve twenty years with much lower pay and then retire with only two and one half percent of their base pay for each year served.  For those of you without a computer, it adds up to fifty percent.  Does this seem fair?

And no one flies the flag at half-staff for them when they die.  Why not?

I also fly another flag, the POW/MIA banner.  But when the United States flag is flown at half-mast, there is no room for this symbol of hope for those missing or prisoners of war.  It’s a shame.

We often ask our military men and women to do the impossible.  When they succeed, if we notice at all, we applaud their efforts and then go on about our business.

“Isn’t that what they volunteered for?” You might ask.

True, but when they fall in battle, we tend to forget them in a short while.  Their parents, friends and loved ones don’t.  Neither does my family.

I fly the flag every day.  When I raise it up, or take it down, I salute our fallen heroes.  I hope they know.

But the powers to be don’t fly the flag at half-staff for them.

When will we?  And how much longer will that symbol of freedom continue to wave if we don’t?

God Bless America and its fighting men and women.

I wonder if there is a flag flying at half-staff up in heaven for them.  I hope so.

No, on second thought, I know so.  God doesn’t forget their sacrifice.

Via Con Dias, My friends,

Karl

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April 18, 2007 by Karl.

After viewing the carnage left behind by this latest shooting spree in Virginia, I pray some day we’ll come up with a way to travel through time – especially back into time. 

Think of it.  We could go back and take out all the crazies before they committed their terrible deeds of murder and mayhem.

My first target would be Adolph Hitler and his crew of idiots; Mussolini too.  Millions would live full lives.  Our battleships and carriers would be arrayed against the Japanese sneak invasion.  Saddam wouldn’t have been born.  Neither would the ten worst dictators we now face.

Then there’s John Kennedy’s murderer, Lee Harvey Oswald.  There’s one for the books.  John was going to stop the war in Viet Nam and pull our troops out of that quagmire.  Think of the thousands of young boys who would be fathers and grandfathers now if we could go back and wipe Oswald out in some strange accident.

Fast forward to Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, Jeffry Dahlmer, Richard Speck, “Reverend Jim Jones”, the Waco Whacko David K., the Texas Tower shooter, all the postal shootings, the crazy at Luby’s, the two teenaged killers at Columbine and now the Virginia Tech campus killer.

I know I missed some – there are SO MANY!  And sad as it is, there will be more.

Perhaps God is sitting up there, looking down at me and saying, “Thou Shall Not Kill”, but what about the victims?  Doesn’t anyone, including God, think of them and what could have been except for the maniacs out there running wild and free?

For as long as I can remember, we’ve buried the victims of senseless violence.  Then, if we caught their killers, we pampered the murderers by putting them in prison where they enjoy three squares a day; air conditioned cells, recreation time and colored TV.  Meanwhile their victims rot away, waiting for justice which never comes.  Bleed on you ACLU hearts.

Our politicians will cry for some sort of unnamed, unknown justice for a short time and then carry on with filling their pockets for the next re-election run.  God help America and all of us.

Instead of supporting your favorite pork-belly project, Senators and Congressmen/women, please vote for some money to look into time travel.

I could rave on for hours, but instead I’ll stop and say a prayer for all the victims of crime.  May their killers all rot in hell.

I hope you’ll join me.

God bless all of those mourning the loss of their loved ones throughout our great land.

I’ll continue to pray for you, and America.

Vic Con Dias,

Karl

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April 13, 2007 by Karl.

Good evening once again, my friends, 

Here I am - out of bed at 3:15 in the a.m., attempting to tell you of an adventure and a new book – all at the same time.

Now I know how a wildcatter out in the West Texas oil fields feels when he strikes it rich with a “gusher”.

Believe it or not, in the past three weeks, I’ve written another novel I hadn’t even thought of until I took a fishing trip to Cabo San Lucas with my son, Kris.

Like the oil well I spoke of above, my mind allowed the words to flow out in a rush, 87,492 of them, in 104 chapters, (short and long), on 497 double spaced pages – all in the span of 21 days.

The novel has me so excited I hardly slept during those three weeks. The story is riveting and unique, but so is the way it came about.

Let me see - how to go about telling you everything. I think I’ll give you some background – then tell you how the idea came to mind – and finish with teasing you a little. What about it?

Okay, first the background:

If you followed my BLOG so far, you know Publish America is publishing my fifth book, “Signs of Our Times”. They sent the book cover to me today, and it is wonderful!! You’ll see what I mean when you purchase it.

I also finished editing my first book, “The Lost Priest” for the final time. It’s ready to go whenever my publisher wants a new novel.

Two other novels out of a three part series are completely edited.

They are: Number 2 - “The Perfect Plan” - A gang of ex-Army buddies rob three Brinks armored trucks and make them disappear in broad daylight, along with a payload of thirty-four million dollars.

Number 3 – “The Cyrus Caper” – The same gang hijacks a cruise ship, robs the purser’s office, casino and jewelry store, plus all the passengers, while helping Interpol and the FBI capture a most wanted terrorist.

Number 4 - Another half-finished novel takes the same gang to Las Vegas where they plan to steal the twenty million dollar jackpot from the final table at the Universal Poker Tour – It is tentatively titled: “The Texas Two Card Hold ’Em Heist”.

I was working on this latest tale, when Kris’ birthday rolled around. In the 21 years he’s been married, Kris and I have never taken a “father/son” trip. It was time.

Since my wife, Carol, and I were in Cabo last December, where we caught four Marlin and a sailfish, I thought it was time Kris hooked and landed his first large fish.

So I made the arrangements for March 12-16, and away we flew. Without realizing the event was taking place, we arrived in the midst of the craziness of “Spring Break”.

Everything went according to plan. Kris caught an 8 foot long Marlin weighing 140 pounds. We stuffed it that night in a restaurant – right down our throats! It was delicious.

I’ve always been accused of looking at things a little differently than other people. This trip was no exception.

There were all those young people from college and high school, raising hell, drinking and doing a lot of two other different things – what I can’t say – it would spoil the effect of the new novel. (No, neither of them involved sex.)

So, I came home, sat down at my trusty computer and as they say in Rome, the rest is history. The words poured out of my head as if my mind was so full it wanted to burst. I couldn’t sleep for new ideas refilling the empty space of the words which spilled out onto paper. It was amazing.

The most marvelous part of it all is the lines, sentences and paragraphs were so pure I hardly needed to edit them. I shake my head in wonder at the finished product. As I said, I am more excited about this book than any other I’ve written, and I loved them all.

Through all of my writing, I used one tried and true method of determining whether my tales are good or need more effort. I allow my lovely Carol to read the final draft. From her reactions, I know which way to go.

I just checked. Carol has finished 162 pages. So far she came into my cubbyhole twice, reporting, “I had to stop for few minutes. My eyes were so full of tears I couldn’t see the words.”

Yet several times I heard her laugh out loud. Three times I heard her say, “Good ending,” to a chapter.

From past experiences with Carol’s emotional barometer, I know this novel is a winner. Yeah, it’s going to be GREAT!

Now the teaser:

Here’s the Prelude to my new book. Let me know if it’s enough to make you want to read more. Drop me an e-mail on this web site. Thanks.

THE TAKING OF AMERICA

Prelude

In the beginning, the Bible says God created the world in six days. He rested on the seventh.

The history books of the future would record the Chinese took one day less to conquer North America without firing a shot. Then they never paused for a moment.

At one second after midnight on the west coast, or the first tick of the clock on a cold, late winter day, there were approximately three hundred million Americans residing in the U.S.A. An additional thirty-two million lived in Canada, and finally, one hundred and nine million were citizens of Mexico.

Five days later, it was one second after noon, Eastern Time; and the corresponding times in the Mountain, Central and Pacific time zones, plus those of the Hawaiian Islands and Alaska. Given the average number of natural deaths and new babies born each day, the number of warm bodies was approximately the same.

The only difference was, nearly seventy-two percent of them were dead. More than one survivor wondered what God thought about all of this, or if he even cared anymore.

So my friends; this is my story. When I have this novel published, I know you’ll love it. I hope it will make you think, along with the rest of America. Let’s hope the tale never comes true.

Suddenly I feel light headed. I wonder why. Could it be my mind is stuck on empty so I can get a few hours of sleep? I hope so. I am so tired. So, it’s off to bed tonight or this morning — take your pick. Goodnight. Wish me sweet dreams – perhaps the beginning of a new tale?

Shush, be quiet; don’t let my mind hear you.

God Bless America!

Via Con Dias,

Karl

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April 12, 2007 by Karl.

Howdy again, my friends 

It’s a cloudy, windy day. The wind is blowing like a restless gypsy out of the southeast, scattering my ever decreasing chances of going fishing to the northwest and other points of the compass. Isn’t it strange how the wind operates?  When you want to fly a kite, the wind is as calm as a sleeping baby.  If you want to fish, it blows up a blue norther or a gale from the south.

 I’m sitting here listening to John Denver sing, “Windsong” again.  I’ve listened to his CD a hundred times, always singing along, but for some reason, I never listened closely enough to this particular song to really hear the words. Being an author, you’d think I’d pay attention to words.  I apologize, John.

Since I’m not heading out on the bayou, I’ll take the time to listen and share them with you.  Here they are:

The wind is the whisper of our mother the earth

The wind is the hand of our father the sky.

The wind watches over our struggles and pleasures

The wind is the goddess who first learned to fly.

The wind is the bearer of bad and good tidings,

Weaver of darkness — bringer of dawn.

The wind is the crayons that give us the rainbows,

The wind is the singer who sang the first song.

The wind is the twister of angry red mornings,

The wind brings the freshness to freshly mown hay.

The wind is the racer and wild stallions running

And the sweet taste of love on a slow summer’s day.

The wind knows the songs of cities and canyons,

Thunder of mountains, roar of the sea.

Wind is the taker and giver of mornings

Wind is the symbol of all that is free

So welcome the wind and the wisdom she offers,

Follow her story until she calls again.

In your heart and your spirit, let the breezes surround you,

Lift up your voices and sing with the wind.

Kind of neat, isn’t it. Damn, John, why’d you have to go and learn how to fly?  What a waste of such wonderful talent.

I’m editing my first book for the final time, the one I think I’ll call “The Lost Priest.”  I’ve sub-divided it into two parts, “The Lost Soul,” and “The Lost Spirit.”  It’s a story of twin brothers, Tim and Tom Fitch, Bermudan residents, but U.S. citizens; their adventures, lives and loves.  There’s a very nasty man-eating shark in it too.

Out of the five books I’ve written or am writing, I submitted “Signs of Our Times” to the publisher first.  I plan to send “The Lost Priest” in next.  I think my women readers will love it, while the men in the crowd will enjoy the adventure part, especially the shark. 

Somehow John’s Windsong seems appropriate.  It has that eerie wind blowing in the background that seems to set the stage for his marvelous voice.  Sort of an inspiration, if you will. But, back to work. 

I’ll never get this edited if I don’t stick to it. Sing on, John.  You may be dead and gone, but your voice lives on and echoes in the wind.  I think you’d like that. Here’s a verse I wrote for you: 

The wind teaches you wisdom, if only you’ll listen,

Maker of sand dunes; friend to the sea.

The wind gives us kisses and then makes us wonder,

Were her soft caresses meant for you, or for me?

Via Con Dias,

Karl

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