But, alas, all too soon it came to an end, and we returned to the dock and disembarked. Jim Spurr had graciously offered to take us out on either his own smaller sail boat or on his dingy in order to get photos of Friends Good Will as she went off on her next sail. We opted for the dingy for several reasons: one, it would save time as there was no mast preventing it from leaving the river channel until the drawbridge went up. Two, my kids, although they loved the sail, wanted to hit the beach, and as the dingy would only hold three or four, it meant that they were free to swim.

I opted to go with the kids. My mother, Martha Dougherty was a default onto the dingy as she was the one taking the photos. Neal, my husband, loathes the beach. He simply cannot make peace with the sand, let alone come to enjoy it. I, on the other hand, like the beach, and all that comes with it. Also, I felt Jim might like some manly company for their outing.

So while I and our four kids headed the short distance to the beach, Neal, Martha and Jim headed out on the dingy. Now, I’m not sure exactly what happened, but have had to piece it together through the various narratives, but I think this is a fair rendering of the event:

Upon boarding the dingy, Jim went first. He put a hand up for Martha (who is, by the way, in her seventies) while Neal held her other hand to aid her into the small, bobbing craft. Jim overestimated our Pennsylvania sea-legs, Neal underestimated the amount of support she would need, and before anyone realized what was happening, the dingy took a sharp list away from the dock. My mother found herself with her legs on the craft and her top half dangling over about three to four feet of opened water with only Neal’s hand keeping her from going in. She was neither in nor out and it seemed likely she was going to end up very wet in the middle. Neal said that at this point, she just had a look of resignation on her face, as though she knew she was going in and was only steeling herself for the dunking.

Now I can only imagine what was going through Jim’s mind: his publisher comes up to visit and he drowns her mother. No more publishing contracts for him. . . lol. Whatever his thoughts, he had the presence of mind to grab the dock with one hand and force the dingy back towards it while simultaneously grabbing my mother’s arm and jerking her into the boat. My mother was a great deal relieved, not because she was afraid of getting wet, but because the thought of her cameras getting ruined was too much to bear.

And so they set off in the dingy, and as Neal described it, it was nothing like sailing. It was a rough ride with the little boat speeding over the waves with a fwump, frwump, fwump as they sped to ward Friends Good Will already out on the open water.

My mother, like myself, and probably all writers, is an observer. She had noted earlier on the deck of Friends Good Will that the other passengers had been a great deal interested in our discussions and must have certainly been wondering how our little party was getting such special treatment from one of the members of the sailing crew. I hadn’t noticed because I was too engrossed with all the interesting facts of the ship that Jim had been telling me, and then of our discussions of writing and how he planned his next book, the third in his Great Lakes, Great Guns series, to progress. She said that as we were speaking, many of the other members of our sail had been totally enraptured, turning their heads from one to the other of us as we were speaking, straining to hear.

Now, with the little dingy speeding down on the sloop Friends Good Will, a second group of passengers was suddenly enraptured by our group from Pennsylvania (well, at least part of our group). They swarmed to the rails, watching this crazy little craft with the three passengers come buzzing around the ship in ever tightening circles, a clearly demented woman half standing despite the waves and the bounce, clicking pictures as fast as she could, switching cameras, taking more pictures. Neal’s version was even more hilarious. He, of course, never said a word to Jim, but I imagined that if he was smoking a cigarette (as he is wont to do), he may have been taking deeper and deeper puffs.

Jim, wanting the best pictures, would manuever the small dingy to in front of the ship, directly in its path. There he would idle the small, 15 hp engine and calmly and cheerfully tell my mother, “Okay! Get your pictures!” My mother dutifully snapped away, and Neal watched with growing apprehension as the bow of the sloop came closer, and closer. He looked at the idling engine and wondered if, when Jim revved it up again, if it was actually going to power up, or stall. And he had enough knowledge now, after having been on the sloop just a short time earlier, that it was neither easy nor quick to manuever the ship if they should end up stalled in front of it.

Jim, blissfully unaware of his guest’s fears, would again rev up the engine, buzz around in another circle, pausing for pictures from every angle along the way, and then try to get in for an even closer view of the bow.

In the end, it was all well worth the effort. My mother got some amazing shots, including the two featured on yesterday’s blog post, and she is sending up some of the best ones to Jim as a way of thank you. He did a fantastic job as a host. It simply isn’t his fault that we are a bunch of Pennsylvania farm country hicks that don’t know our way around a sailboat or a dingy.

They arrived back at the dock nearly simultaneously to our calling a halt to our swimming, and we went out to a local restaurant to eat. There, we got to discuss more writing, publishing, sailing, the Second Coming of Christ, the possibility of the expected 12th Iman being the anti-christ, and a myriad of other intersting subjects. It was all over far too quickly.

But no fear, we plan on returning next year on our way through to Washington Island, and charter Friends Good Will for the day instead of only being on her for an hour and a half (I imagine Jim may suddenly find himself having an urgent out-of-town engagement on our dates for being there. . . lol).

Tomorrow, I’ll blog about day 3: Neal and Martha go on a lighthouse picture taking excursion and the kids and I spend the day at the beach, where I get an unwanted souvenir: severe sunburn.

Our sail wasn’t scheduled until 1:15, with an admonishment to be at the dock no later than 12:45, so we had some time to burn in the morning. We left our hotel early, travelled down the Lake Michigan coastline from Holland to Grand Haven, where we stopped to visit another lighthouse:

You’ll easily note the massive ship in the near background on the right. This is the Keewatin, known as the Kee for short. She is over 100 years old (102 this year, I think) and was a fascinating find in herself. Ships, evidently, haven’t changed that much in the past 100 years. She was a beaut, and we would have loved to tour her, but we were too early in the morning for tours, and we had a prior engagement.

After we left the Kee and the Lighthouse, we headed for the Michigan Maritime Museum, which turned out to be only about five minutes away. We arrived there way early, and snooped around the museum and went out for an early look at Friends Good Will. At this point I thought I was going to be disappointed. She was so much smaller than I had imagined. All the history of her that I had read in Jim Spurr’s works could not possibly fit on this respectable, but still much smaller than I had expected, sloop.

I thought of her owner Oliver Williams and Captain William Lee sailing her, out on the water for weeks at a time. I thought of the storms they encountered on her decks, of the waves crashing over her bow, of the winds screaming past her mast. I thought of the battle cannons splashing about her, drawing closer on each subsequent shot. This could not possibly be the actual size of the sloop. How had she ever survived as long as she had? How had anyone on her survived?

We nibbed around the boathouse, read up on some history, and then, finally, congregated on the small shaded deck on the outside of the museum to wait. Sail time was drawing near and Jim Spurr should be arriving soon.

Now I had never met Jim Spurr in person. We had talked on the phone during the initial phases of contract negotiations, and then corresponded mostly by email over the past two years and the publishing of two of his books. So it was with a great deal of anticipation that I looked forward to meeting this gentleman who had managed to bring the War of 1812 and the battles on the Great Lakes to such vivid life in his works. I had done my hair (note the word, had. As the pictures below will reveal, that lasted no more than one gust of wind once we were under sail and then it just looked its usual mess). I put on makeup (something I normally reserve strictly for weddings and funerals). I dressed in a new white sweat outfit (yeah, yeah, I know. But we were on vacation!).

So how does Jim Spurr find us when he finally arrives: all of us dozing. Me with my head on my daughter’s head which was on my shoulder. Everyone else kind of nodding off where they sat. I awoke to a cheerful voice saying, “This must be the group from Pennsylvania!” as a white sailing outfit adorned man strode up the steps. I think I was grinning before I even opened my eyes.

After a hearty round of welcomes, we boarded Friends Good Will. And once she was out on the open water, making her own way under sail, any disaappointment I had initially felt fell away as magically as the graceful sweep of her hull over the waves.

Jim and I on the deck (my posture is terrible because I was trying not to fall over):

Sailing isn’t all fun and no work, however:

(Above) Jim Spurr with our sons in the background (front to back): Coleman, Austin and Garrett Melvin.

(Below) husband Neal, daughter Shelby, and myself (kind of hidden):

But we did find time for discussion:

After all this, you may be wondering how our day got any more interesting. Well, that’s a story for tomorrow, when I blog about Day 2, Part II. But I will give you a hint: remember my prior post where I hinted at Miami Vice style water chases and a near ‘man-over-board’ scenario?

Everyone have a great Tuesday!

  Cord Auburn Deuesenberg Museum - Indiana

Daughter Shelby and myself

Grand Haven Michigan Lighthouse - 1905

The first day, Sunday, we left Pennsylvania about 7:30 am and made our way to the Auburn-Cord Duesenberg Museum in Ohio. This is a fantastic museum, well worth a couple of hours of your time. Later in the trip, we would visit the Ford Museum, but I thought the Duesenberg Museum was actually better. The layout was simply easier to navigate, and although Ford has some spectacular displays, nothing beats a Duesenberg. It is no wonder they had a great reputation then and now for luxury. The cars were simply breathtaking. In addition, the Auburn Cord museum has a display of some other fine automobiles, including ones designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.

We spent several hours there, wiping the drool from our chins, and then traveled up into Michigan and headed for the western edge on the shore of Lake Michigan. We hunted down some lighthouses along the way, and walked along the beach. To my way of thinking, you haven’t really arrived until you put your toes in the water, and I promptly took care of that little detail. By the time we made our way into Holland, it was nearly 9:00. We checked into our hotel and then went to find something to eat.

At which point we found that Holland virtually rolls up its sidewalks by 9:00 on a Sunday evening. We spent well over thirty minutes driving around trying to find a restaurant that was opened. We ended with settling for a Taco Bell. Did you know that you can feed seven people for under $30.00 at Taco Bell? Later in our stay, we would find that if we had made a left instead of a right when coming out of our hotel, we would have found restaurants galore, but of course, we won’t discover this until the day before our leaving.

Day 2 is when our real adventure begins, and I’ll be blogging about author James Spurr and the subject of his books Sworn for Mackinaw and One Sloop and Slow Match: the sloop Friends Good Will. It is a memorable meeting including Miami Vice style water chases, a near ‘man-over-board’ scenario, and the sweetest sailing ship you could ever have the pleasure to sail upon.

No, I’m not one of those super-dedicated types that takes their laptop with them and blogs while on the road and in the motel. A vacation, to me, is a time to get away, and I have every intention of doing just this (although if I can work some sneak peeks in to insure that everything is running smoothly in my absence, I am not above doing so).

As a final blog before our interruption, however, I would like to write about a phone conversation I had yesterday with a fellow small press publisher.

It was an interesting conversation and came about like this:

I ran across some information on a writer named Walid Shoebat who is a former muslim terrorist turned Christian. His work includes four books, his most recent being God’s War on Terror. In a nutshell, he read the Bible, was not only convicted that the Bible is the Word of God and that Jesus is the Christ, but was also struck by the similarities of the Bible to islamic prophecies — primarily the similarity of the Bible’s descriptions of the coming anti-christ with the islamic descriptions of the coming 12th Iman (whom muslims anticipate coming with furver equivalent to Christians looking for the 2nd coming of Christ). In short, the 12th Iman bears a striking similarity to the anti-christ. Things that made Mr. Shoebat go ‘hmmm’.

So he began digging further into Bible prophecy and into the corresponding prophecies in the koran and has come to the conclusion that the 12th Iman will be, in fact, the anti-christ that the Bible speaks of.

Now, for many, this is a difficult hypothesis to embrace (although with the state of things in the world, it is getting seeminly less difficult each day), especially for those who have studied Bible Prophecy for years and in-depth. There are certain things in Bible Prophecy that seems to be a given, and the fact that the anti-christ would arise from a form of the revived Roman Empire is just one of them. Tradition says so. The Bible says so. But what tradition goes on to insist, and which the Bible doesn’t, is that the ac will arise from the most associated portion of the Roman Empire (the western portion of the empire which included Rome itself). Most scholars overlook the fact that the Roman Empire encompassed much more real estate than the European portion we all think of, and that present day countries like Turkey were actually a major part of it.

In other words, Walid puts forth, the ac could very well come from the middle east, be muslim, and still fulfil the Bible Prophecy of arising from the old Roman Empire. Perhaps even fulfil it more fully than the traditional view.

Anywho, I read up on some of his work, viewed some of his videos, found my way to his website, and noticed in the process that he was being published not by a major pub house, but by what appeared to be a very small publisher, no bigger than ourselves, in fact.

So, I sent off an email to him via the ‘contact us’ page on his website, and much to my surprise, received a phone call a short while later. Not from Walid, but from his publisher.

It was a fascinating conversation. As I told my husband later, it is not often that I talk with someone with a middle eastern accent who is closely associated with a former terrorist.

What I found is that the pub company publishing Mr. Shoebat’s books is actually smaller than our own. So small, in fact, that they have not even reached a point of being able to have their books in the mainstream distribution channels via Ingram, the largest, most used distributor in the US, and possibly the world. We, small as we are, have achieved this, and probably about 75% of our total sales come through our listings with them.

What was stunning to me was the sheer volume of Walid’s books that they have managed to move despite not having major distribution. Over 40,000 copies of his first title alone (when he was still an unknown, new writer on the scene). Of course, the subject matter is everything, and the unique perspective he brings is a gold mine.

His publisher (whom I am not going to name, because even though the company is listed and easy to find, I’m not certain how the owner of this company feels about having his personal name easily associated with Walid’s — something I will go into further into this post) and I spoke at length about what it would take to get the works into Ingram, into the stores, etc., and further about a possible future collaboration on some other books that they are bringing out, and some back list titles they have that they have not been able to concentrate on. And as he so succinctly put it, they sold 40,000 of Walid’s first book, but they should have very well sold a million, if they had had it in distribution.

We talked about why Walid was with such a small publisher. No major pub would touch him. The content is too controversial, and too volatile. Every publisher out there knows of the fatwah that was placed upon Salman Rushdie with ‘Satanic Verses’. Few of them want that kind of heat, especially after 9-11. Who wants to worry about their office building being blown up because of a title they put out there? This is why I’m not giving out the publisher’s personal name here. I’m sure it can be found, but I’m not going to help in that process.

In conclusion, my main point is that if you haven’t heard of this author, you are going to. His books making it into the major distribution routes and the mainstream stores is nearly inevitable. And at that point, he’s absolutely going to explode all over the place. He’s already seen with near regularity on various news programs including CNN, Fox and ABC for his insight into the current middle-east conflict. The fact that we may have some part to play in getting his work out there is not finalized, but both I and his publisher were very open to working together at some point.

Does this mean that I totally agree with his viewpoint? Not necessarily. But I think it bears enough merit to be seriously looked into. I also don’t believe that any decision I come to on whether it is totally credible or not is the end all be all and should be made for everyone. I think like every other publisher does, I suppose. That people should be able to read it for themselves, and make up their own minds.

Everyone have a great week! We’ll be back on the July 19th at the latest.

Although we still retain the rights to Shall Die by the Sword by T.S. Beckett, it will no longer be available in print. We’ve yanked it from distribution.

99% of this decision was due to lack of sales, and even more troubling, a high return rate on the sales that were made. I blogged previously of how one bad title can eat up the profits of other titles that are selling well. The other one percent of the decision making process was due to the author in this case.

I understand a bruised ego when a work doesn’t do as well as expected. I understand wanting to have your book given the best shot possible in the marketplace. But neither of these things excuses bad-mouthing the publisher that took a chance on your work when no one else was willing to, and who has placed a great deal of time, effort and revenue into giving it that shot. If you must bad-mouth, then do it privately to your family and friends. Don’t blog about it on your blog, and, one can only imagine, write about it on any forums you may be visiting.

We don’t have a ‘reputation’ type clause in our contracts forbidding writers from having the right to voice their experiences with us, whether good or bad, perceived or real. But we certainly retain the right to discontinue our efforts in marketing and distributing their work, especially when the sales record is so entirely negative to begin with, and especially after we’ve already have put in three years of good faith efforts.

For the most part, our parting was cordial and without rancor. He was our first author, even before my own work, and in such a position he realized far more effort and investment than several of our other books combined. At some point, as a publisher, however, I must draw a line as to how much further time and money of our limited resources are to go into making yet more changes in a work that, frankly, just is not going to sell.

There are many lessons here for both me as the publisher and for Mr. Beckett as the writer. For writers in general, I would say the lesson that can be learned is that no matter how disappointed you may be in a first work’s poor performance, just write another book. Try to do better. Keep working at your craft. And do not, do not, abuse your publisher. Just turn your work in and hope that we all have better luck with your next title. After all, we are on your side. We want you to succeed as much as you do. That’s the only way we get paid.

If you alienate your publisher to the point that they don’t want to pick up your second title because they can only foresee a long stream of additional headaches and demands similar to what they have already experienced with publishing your first book, don’t continue ramping up your complaints and demands to an even higher degree. They may very well discontinue printing of your first book altogether.

At least I can say that our other writers, even the ones whose books thus far have performed less than stellarly have retained a professional attitude, have gone on to write further works, or are in the process of writing further works. For the most part, we have a good family of writers.

As for the one that has left us, we’re going to miss him (in an odd, melancholy way), and we wish him the best of luck elsewhere with his future writing. 

Top on the priority list is going over some final details with a friend of ours who has agreed to keep an eye on the store and keep some of my pies warm in the oven. She spent part of this morning with me, will be spending Friday with me also, and part of Saturday if needed. If it weren’t for her willingness to lend a hand for a small fee, we wouldn’t be able to make this trip, so I am most appreciative.

Second is getting a final Price on Gail MacMillan’s soon-to-be released Caledonian Privateer. This is something that I thought I had worked out months ago, but with the economy being less than stable, which equals rising ship costs and a possible (read ‘likely’) increase in print costs, I felt the need to revisit the subject. I promised Gail to have a final figure to her before our leaving this weekend.

This isn’t to say that pricing on books is set in stone, and since I take the unpopular stance of not printing pricing with our barcodes, it is more easily changable for us than most publishers. But I don’t like jumping it around like a Mexican jumping bean.

Pricing, due to the nature of the book-selling industry, is an incredibly complex endeavor. Distributors expect a 55% discount, Retailers expect at least 35% to 55%, and direct individual sales expect a good savings also (of which we give a 45% discount when purchasing through the website). All this means that we have to take into consideration that whatever price we set on a book will only result in less than half of that actually making its way back to us in most instances. Out of that half, we have to deduct print costs, our ship costs, author royalties and our overhead. On the other hand, the customer is only looking at the final price on the book, so it is a balancing act of finding a profit margin and still keeping the books reasonably priced.

Other than these few things for the business (and still trying to get payment from an overdue invoice) our attention now is being taken up with mowing the grass, clearing out the fridge — trying to time the milk, egg, cheese and fresh veggie consumption coincide with our leaving — and keeping the laundry caught up so that we have clothes to pack on Saturday.

Saturday we’re leaving our home to head to my mothers with the dogs and cat, which will be spending the week with my brother. That should be interesting, as the new puppy has never been away from home for more than a few hours, and never away from us. I’m sure we are going to find one disgruntled puppy dog upon our return.

We’ll spend the night there and leave early Sunday morning.

Here’s hoping for nice sailing weather and a good trip.

Everyone have a good Tuesday!

People who are advertising pornography never forget to include a cheery “Thanks” at the end of their disgusting comments. Evidently, their mothers raised them right at some point. . .

People advertising for loans, mortgage help, bankruptcy, etc, are the ones that always begin their comments with, “I didn’t quite understand all the details of your post today. . .” Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in their supposed business acumen, does it?

Everyone have a good Sunday!

Maybe it is because I am a writer, and a publisher, that I have a fine appreciation for the freedom of speech. My livelihood depends upon it. Maybe it is this appreciation that makes me more demanding in what I am willing to publish. I want something entertaining, but I want works that say something.

If you’re going to put a hundred thousands words or more down on paper, don’t you want to have said something by the time your reach the end?

If someone is going to read your work after your death, don’t you want them to come away with something more than ‘clever fellow’?

If people have lived and breathed with the hope of freedom in their nostrils, have fought and bled to see that come to life, don’t you want that precious gift to be used for something beyond the here, the now, the pleasant and amusing?

Independence, of course, gives us the right to reject all of that concept. To insist upon the ancedotal and the frivolous. To exercise our freedom in not making a mark, in not provoking thought, in not cherishing that which was given.

Ironic that the very people that would insist upon putting no value on freedom, that would belittle its virtues and complain of its downfalls would in themselves be the highest example of what freedom represents: the right to be an idiot.

Their very existence depends upon our belief that they have the right to be subversive, discouraging, moronic nay-sayers. Perhaps their attempts in limiting the freedoms of others justifies their own laxness in doing anything with their own.

Well, they’re free to do that.

They’re even free to write about it.

But for myself, and the other authors that have books through Double Edge, we prefer the freedom of limitless possibilities the written word can provide, not the shackled darkness of a shuttered mind that denies the existence of the human soul.

For me, independence is summed up this simply: God knows my destiny and allows me to strive to reach it to the best of my ability. Another human being or a government entity does not. I reject the notion that I should place my destiny in the hands of man, instead I embrace the sovereignety of the God who created me.

Anyone who thinks that Independence Day was about moving from a monarchy controlling our lives to a government thinks that one man controlling our destiny wasn’t good, so let’s replace him with a committee. Independence Day was about the reduction of the control of anyone other than God and ourselves has over our lives. If you cannot accept the control of your own life and the pursuit of the destiny that God has set out for you, then I humbly assert that a monarchy is better for you than a Republic. After all, when has anyone ever seen a committee get something done? The only freedom you get under the control of a committee is that provided to you by their ineptness.

The United States is an all or nothing deal. You either embrace the freedom its founders provided for us fully, or find yourself a nice dictator somewhere in the world to place yourself into bondage under. Unfortunately, half the world now is modeled on democracy. But it is not the embracing of God, rejection of monarchy type of democracy. It is the Committee version of monarchy. It is the worst of both worlds. And the U.S. is headed in much the same direction.

Why? Because the people that populate it no longer even trust themselves with their own lives. It is like a mass, national suicide.

Happy Independence Day for however long we can legitimately claim it to be so. Or has that time passed already?

Much of the delay has to do with the author of our next release (Gail MacMillan — Caledonian Privateer). Our experience with her work is that she gets a lot of immediate sales upon release. A lot. And unlike some of our other titles, a great portion of these immediate sales are direct through our website rather than through Amazon or other distribution routes.

Looking at our calendar, and seeing that our planned vacation is now only two weeks away, I had to reconsider releasing her title at present. The flurry of orders can be nearly overwhelming for the first week or two, and there is no guarantee that the majority of them are going to be taken care of before we leave. And the last thing I want is to be on vacation, fretting about how many orders are coming in that I’m not on top of.

So, in light of this, and a few other items (such as the Royalty Period ending today — June 30 — and the need to have Royalty Statements out by the end of July), I’ve made the decision to release Caledonian Privateer on July 31st. If you’re one of the people anxiously awaiting this title, I apologize for the delay.

From there, we’ll release Skylar Burris’ next book, An Unlikely Missionary, September 1st, and pick up with our regularly scheduled fall offering of Martha Dougherty’s next photography book in November.

Everyone have a good Monday!