The Sequel’s Draft Cover

We’ve all heard the expression, “Never judge a book by its cover.” Yeh, well, as both readers and authors, we’re also aware that the cover is important. A novel could be wonderful, but if the cover is off-putting to readers? On the other hand, even the most spectacular cover cannot make up for a fundamentally weak book.

Drum roll, please….

Draft Cover. Front cover photo (r): Notre Dame de la Garde, overlooking Dahouët harbor, Brittany. Rear cover: A visitor snapping a photograph, Manhattan. [Copyright © 2014 by R. J. Nello]

Draft Cover. Front cover photo (r): Notre Dame de la Garde, overlooking Dahouët harbor, Brittany. Rear cover: A visitor snapping a photograph, Manhattan. [Copyright © 2014 by R. J. Nello]

That’s the sequel‘s draft cover. My own photos once more, this time with color enhancements and computer alterations. I’m still about 4-6 months from publication, so it may change again.

But I’m definitely liking this approach. After the perhaps blindingly “obvious” covers I thought were necessary for Passports as a series opener – national flags on the front cover, and shots of the Statue of Liberty/ World Trade Center/ Eiffel Tower on the back – there will be some “artsy” symbolism on this second one. As you see also, I reduced the Passports cover, and I’m thinking to slip it onto the sequel’s cover as well.

And, again, hopefully it’s a cover readers won’t be, uh, “embarrassed” to be seen with in public: ;-)

….When we sit on a train with a book open in front of us, how much has our choice of reading being influenced by our ideas of what a proper book should be like, and how a proper adult should appear in public?

A few other points. The title’s blanked out because I’d like to save sharing that with you until I’m nearer to publication. Also blocked out is a reference to how Passports concludes. (I don’t want an inadvertent “spoiler” here months before that sequel is available in “book world.”) That said, the back cover “blurb” you see is also, for now, otherwise mostly filler; although I really do like that Lena comment that appears in a chapter, so I may use it on here.

We all have to start somewhere. :-)

Hope you’re having a good day, wherever you’re reading this….

Why I’d Never Be President

My wife once asked me, “Why don’t you stand (meaning run) for office sometime?” No way. Not when stuff like this is floating around out there:

University of Alaska, late 1980s. Dorm photo. [Copyright, Me.]

University of Alaska, late 1980s. Dorm photo. [Copyright, Me.]

I’ll stick to writing books. I’d (mercifully) forgotten about that picture. Yep, that is me, on the right side of the photo, wearing the white cap.

It’s an informal floor photo we’d taken at our dorm at the University of Alaska-Fairbanks in the late 1980s. An old floor-mate (now a very responsible, mature resident of that august and beautiful state) emailed me a copy the other day.

Seeing it on Facebook, my uncle wrote that I was so “cute.” Apparently struck by the long hair, beards, and what she considered a generally “hippie” appearance, a friend in England kidded that she thought it looked like we were doing a production of “Jesus Christ Superstar.”

Everyone’s a flippin’ comedian nowadays.

I hope you’re having a good weekend. That post is perfect for a Sunday morning. I know so few of you will probably see it. ;-)

The Independent Extols The Catskills, But….

….in its “quest” for “Catskills style,” the U.K. newspaper in my humble opinion omits some very “stylish” places:

Searching for style in the Catskills

I understand it seems to be a narrowly focused piece that showcases certain businesses. Still, it gives an unbalanced impression of the region. There is lots of “style” out there beyond hugging Route 28 towards Roxbury.

Places that Indy article plugs, such as Woodstock and Phoenicia, are definitely worth visiting. Head north as well. Windham and adjoining towns – Hunter, Jewett, Ashland and Prattsville* – should not be missed.

Windham has the prettiest Main Street in the Catskills. It also boasts a large ski resort. (There’s also another in Hunter.) It has the wonderful Bistro Brie & Bordeaux. (One wouldn’t have thought the Independent could’ve possibly overlooked something like, uh, that.) There’s also the well-regarded Windham Vineyards and Winery. And you haven’t eaten in a diner until you’ve tried (cash only) Michael’s. (My English brother-in-law – who visited last summer – still talks about how much he enjoyed it.) I could go on….

Next door Ashland – one of the smallest towns in New York state – even has a replica Partridge Family bus. (It’s on private property.) Does anything get more “stylish” than that?

The area has state forests and fantastic hiking trails. It’s also somewhere you can drive for tens of miles before bumping into a traffic light. (The hamlet of Tannersville – there’s “style” there too – in the town of Hunter, has the STOP light.) The vistas and serenity are second to none for the Catskills.

Rainbow over the Catskills. [Photo by me, 2012.]

Rainbow over the Catskills, looking toward Hunter Mountain. (Notice the deer accidentally in frame.) [Photo by me, 2012.]

Yes, I’m biased. Our house is outside of Windham. However, if you drive up from New York City and confine yourself only to what’s along Route 28 and don’t continue up from Phoenicia to Route 23, you haven’t really seen the Catskills.

Anyway, time to get back to work. Writing, writing, writing. Woodstock isn’t the only place in the Catskills with authors. ;-)

Have a good day, wherever you are reading this….
__________

NOTE: *For me, one of the few “lighthearted” moments of Tropical Storm Irene and the lousy late summer of 2011 was hearing CNN’s Anderson Cooper repeatedly say “Prattsville” to an audience of global viewers. The town and area have rebounded from the flooding. Prattsville still has a few ruined private dwellings marked for demolition, but most business locations have recovered, rebuilt, and, indeed, often been refurbished.

Soooouper Geeeeenius

We’ve had three mice infestations during the last year. They love the inside of our boiler, which is down in our crawl space. Typical Catskills. Typically rural.

They slip inside it through the outside fresh air intake, which is about 12 inches off the ground and only a few inches above a naked pipe, from which we suspect they can easily reach up to get to the intake. After the first time, I put a window screen mesh over the intake; but they nibbled through that. After the second, I jammed steel mesh into the intake opening; and they wiggled around that.

After the third, the other day, the propane company technician who cleared them out suggested dryly, “Ya need a cat.”

The in-laws' cat, caught making himself comfortable on the cooker top. London. [Photo by me, 2013.]

The in-laws’ cat, caught making himself comfortable on the cooker top. London. [Photo by me, 2013.]

Now there’s a high-tech solution for you. Except we can’t have a cat. We are in the U.K. a lot, and my mother detests cats and would never visit us.

“Maybe we should get a cat,” my wife joked.

The mice have done no major damage thus far, but we suspect it’s only a matter of time. So I’ve finally had enough. No mice are going outsmart Wile E. Nello.

I’ve constructed a multilayer defensive system. Please don’t call it my personal Maginot Line. Just don’t:

My anti-mice effort. [Photo by me, 2014.]

My anti-mice effort. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Its basis is two layers of 1/4 inch gap steel mesh tacked to the house around the entire intake/out vent. (The opening you see is the out vent; the fresh air intake opens on the reverse side.) I jammed layers of gorilla tape into all gaps (no matter how small) between the mesh and the house siding (which is not flat of course). A board below blocks a horizontal pipe that the critters may use as a “step up.” I even placed a blocking piece of metal next to another pipe, to the left, from which they might be able to jump across.

When my wife saw the finished product – which took me a couple of hours to construct – she declared, “You’re wasted writing books!”

“Oh, yeh,” I replied, “and at some point an anvil will probably come down on my head.” 😏

A Guy In Sunglasses….

….on a harbor tour back on Monday, with Fort Sumter in the background:

Me. Charleston harbor, South Carolina, July 2014.

Me. Charleston harbor, South Carolina, July 2014.

I recommend visiting Charleston, South Carolina. The city itself is more than worth seeing – its historic district in particular. Even more attractive, its people are just so darn pleasant.

One other thing. You can’t really tell from that photo, but it was not just sunny. It was also super-blazing hot!

Of course not that anyone would expect scorching heat in South Carolina in July? Would they? :-)

Five Centuries In Eight Photographs

Yesterday, we visited the Castillo de San Marcos at St. Augustine. For centuries, the fort was central in the town’s existence. Although it has changed hands by treaty several times, no attacker has ever taken it in battle.

That in mind, here is a history of that fort, and St. Augustine…. as, uh, illustrated and outlined, in chronological order, by some photographs:

1. In 1513, Spaniard Juan Ponce de Leon wanders through seeking the Fountain of Youth. He never finds it. [Photo by me, 2014]

1. In 1513, Spaniard Juan Ponce de Leon wanders through seeking the Fountain of Youth. He never finds it. [Photo by me, 2014]

2. The site now marked by a cross, other Spaniards land in 1565. A first Mass is said. [Photo by me, 2014

2. The site now marked by a cross, other Spaniards land in 1565. A first Mass is said. [Photo by me, 2014.]

3. After several wooden forts fail to do the job they want, the Spaniards get serious and decide to build a masonry one. [Photo by me, 2014.]

3. After several wooden forts fail to do the job they want, the Spaniards get serious and decide to build a masonry one. [Photo by me, 2014.]

4. Front of the Castillo de San Marcos. [Photo by me, 2014.]

4. Front of the Castillo de San Marcos. [Photo by me, 2014.]

5. Imperial Spain's flag proudly flew over the town and fort for centuries. [Photo by me, 2014.]

5. Imperial Spain’s flag proudly flew over the fort. [Photo by me, 2014.]

6. Unfortunately, Spain's flag also looked too much like England's Cross of St. George from a distance. Which made fighting naval battles a bit confusing. So in the 18th century, the Spanish changed their flag. [Photo by me, 2014.]

6. Unfortunately, Spain’s flag looked too much like England’s Cross of St. George from a distance. Which made fighting naval battles difficult. So in the 18th century, the Spanish changed theirs. [Photo by me, 2014.]

7. Great Britain took over Florida in 1763. But they had to give it back to Spain in 1783. [Photo by me, 2014.]

7. Great Britain took over Florida in 1763. But they had to give it back to Spain in 1783. [Photo by me, 2014.]

8. Finally, the Americans.... [Photo by me, 2014.]

8. Finally, the Americans…. [Photo by me, 2014.]

A bit of a history lesson. In pictures. But don’t worry, there’s no quiz to follow. ;-)

St. Augustine, Florida

We’re making our way “back north.” We stopped in St. Augustine, Florida, en route. As we do when we travel, we went to church locally last night.

And this one was pretty impressive. The Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine is the oldest Roman Catholic parish in North America:

The Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine. [Photo by me, 2014.]

The Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine. [Photo by me, 2014.]

The tower of the Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine. [Photo by me, 2014.]

The tower of the Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Brief history of the Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Brief history of the Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Among The Best 25¢ I’ve Ever Spent

Got a bit of a surprise on Monday in Key West. It wasn’t, as you know, at Hemingway’s house. I mean down at the docks behind Conch Seafood:

Manatee, below a dock in Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Manatee, below a dock in Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Manatee, below a dock in Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Manatee, below a dock in Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

As I tweeted the other day, a manatee appeared seconds after we had fed the fish, resulting in a marine encounter the two kids – the 9 year old girl especially – loved, and which I later joked to my Irish friends was perhaps the best value for 25¢ I had ever gotten in my life. Yet the fish-feeding had proven itself to be an unexpected learning experience too. However, not in a way you might think.

It had all started when I had given our friends’ 11 year old son a quarter to slot into the dock edge (environmentally safe) fish food dispenser, which resembled an “old-fashioned” gum ball machine. Bear in mind he can no problem handle iPads and land 747s using Flight Simulator. Indeed, he is so sharp that early last year, after his mother, “Maureen,” had explained to us at their Dublin breakfast table how she was flying Emirates to Abu Dhabi on her way to India to join our now late friend Kam there, while munching his toast he flat-out contradicted her idea of her own travel itinerary:

Young son: “Mum, you aren’t on Emirates. You’re on Etihad. You’re going to Abu Dhabi.”

Maureen: “No, darlin’, I’m on Emirates.”

Young son: “You’re stopping in Abu Dhabi. You can’t be on Emirates. You would be going to Dubai.”

My wife grabbed her iPad and checked the web. Yep, sure enough he was the one who was right. “Good luck you didn’t turn up for an Emirates flight!” my wife laughed.

But that same lad in Key West the other day didn’t understand he needed first to slot the 25¢ coin into the machine and turn its handle until the coin was swallowed…. and that he needed next to position one cupped hand below the chute to catch the falling feed…. as that feed would be sliding out and down into that hand the second he raised the chute’s cover with his other hand.

Stumped by how to operate it, he hesitated. I bravely took charge of the archaic technology. Oh, and, by the way, it is “technology” that had once been commonplace in the Republic of Ireland too.

Good grief, young people these days. ;-)

Hemingway Wasn’t Home

We stopped by Ernest Hemingway‘s yesterday. Uh, but he wasn’t in. However, here’s his front door and his study:

Ernest Hemingway's front door, Key West. [Photo by me, 2014}

Ernest Hemingway’s front door, Key West. [Photo by me, 2014}

Ernest Hemingway's study, Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Ernest Hemingway’s study, Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

And, wow, his swimming pool looked too inviting on a 90F+/30C+ degree day in Key West!:

Ernest Hemingway's massive swimming pool, Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Ernest Hemingway’s massive swimming pool, Key West. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Although I suspected one snark it was more than likely to draw from the significant woman in my own life, the 30 minute guided house tour is well-worth it. Near the start of ours, the guide remarked that Hemingway’s novels were inspired by, and built upon, places he had lived, where he had traveled, and people he had known. With a mischievous wink, we were then told how “in the next room, are photos of some of the women in his life.”

As we were all escorted across the hall, my wife looked at me knowingly. I knew exactly what was coming. With a smile, mumbling over to me, she cracked, “Uh, huh. Yeh. And he’s not the only one….”

Yep, and there it is! Done. Good, we got that over with. ;-)

Oh, and you’re probably not surprised that my novelist uncle loved seeing – via Facebook – where we’d been.

Happy July!

“So, what was her name?”

Yesterday, before an iguana decided to make a late afternoon visit to the pool for a quick drink….

Iguana by the pool. Marathon, Florida. [Photo by me, 2014.]

Iguana by the pool. Marathon, Florida. [Photo by me, 2014.]

….I had had the iPad out poolside for several hours. Between dips I’d gotten down to more writing. I’m determined to use my time here productively. As I had told our friends’ 9 year old daughter (who keeps asking me questions; she seems very interested in what I am doing), “When you’re writing, you’re never on a holiday really. Because you never know when something comes to mind. You have to be ready for it.”

Sometime after, the iPad packed away, the two of us reclining in the shade (good grief, the sun here is hot!) on loungers and keeping an eye on the kids splashing around in the pool, my wife asked me, “Did you get a lot done today?”

Lowering a paperback I was reading, I replied, “I did. I woke up this morning thinking, ‘God, how could I have forgotten to include that!?’ I definitely wouldn’t have been happy if I didn’t.”

From behind her sunglasses, deadpan “Englishly” my [English] wife smiled and needled me, “Okay, so, what was her name?” ;-)

Happy Sunday, wherever you are!