Sunday, August 22, 2010

Heading Home

Garrett Marks has my new website up and running. We'll be making changes as the days pass. But for now it's established and looking a heck of a lot better than my old cobbled together author's page. You can see it here.

Just now we're using the WiFi connection at the Salt Lake City airport, waiting for our flight. We'll be home in a few hours. What a great trip, though! We hate to leave the west, but we'll be back as soon as we can. Yellowstone is too great a place to miss.

I took this self-portrait at the top of Avalanche Peak in Yellowstone. This was the best hike I took the entire time I was in the Park. The views were fantastic. I'll post details about this great hike when we get back home.

This is the view I had of Hoyt Peak from the top of Avalanche. I was going to bag Hoyt, also, but I ran out of time and a thunderstorm was approaching the high country, so I had to head below treeline.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Grand Tetons Moose

The animal Carole most wanted to see was a moose. We saw three yesterday. Here are two of them.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Wilderness

We found a WiFi site here on our last night in the parks. Much amazing stuff to post when we return!

Here are some sandhill cranes we saw today, and a grizzly bear sleeping on the banks of the Lamar River in Lamar Valley yesterday. I took the griz photo from a great distance with a telephoto lens. As close as I wish to get to one of those critters.

I was lucky that I spotted this pair as we were driving. Far out in a meadow.

No, he wasn't dead. Just napping along the river bank. He was really sacked out!

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Utah

We took this in Utah yesterday on the way to Yellowstone. Drove through fantastic country but I didn't want to stop because all I wanted to do was get to the Park!

Friday, August 13, 2010

Lardass

Notice the almost unbelievable lardass in the middle of the photo, front and center of the viewing platform at Old Faithful geyser. Only in the USA.

If I ever get that fat, don't provide me with a self-propelled chair that can haul my stinking carcass around like that. Just push me over a very high cliff.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

I Got Yer Grand Tetons Right Here!

My wife talked me into watching her favorite TV show with her. It's called MAD MEN and I wasn't interested. Then I saw this woman:


Now I'm interested. I turned to Carole and said:

"Honey, I'm sorry. But I'd have to cheat on you with her."

Carole's not worried, though.

Barring any posts from Utah, Montana, Wyoming or Idaho, this will be the last one until we return from our vacation.


So I thought I'd leave you guys with a photo of something gorgeous. Thus, Ms. Hendericks.

I might not ever come up for air.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Steve Ditko Made This

Well, we're counting down the hours until we leave for Yellowstone. We just have some house cleaning to do and some final packing. And of course I am frantically working on the novel, to the detriment of the blog. Oh, well. I always said that the only reason I keep a blog is to spark my creativity for my fiction. It's worked well, so far.

Today's brief post concerns part of my comic collection. One of the things I collect are just about any comic which features work by Steve Ditko. Philosophically and politically, I find Mr. Ditko to be absolutely monstrous. He tends to lean so far to the right that he is, to my way of thinking, a fascist. This also serves, unfortunately, as a way to describe most of his fans whom I've had the utmost displeasure to meet. I find his beliefs to be interesting only in the way that it's fascinating to examine the workings of evil. But I'd never embrace his hideous rantings as anything other than the diseased mouthings of a truly sick individual.

One of the titles I'm trying to complete is his run on the old Marvel comic book, STRANGE TALES. He wrote and illustrated a lot of material for this comic, going back to its early days as a horror and science-fiction anthology. But with issue #110 he created a new quasi-superhero character known as Dr. Strange. I'm getting close to having all of his Dr. Strange stories in their original formats and appearances.

For some reason, Dr. Strange never got a solo cover on Strange Tales when Ditko was writing and illustrating the stories. Occasionally Strange would get a cover space, but never all to himself. I've never been able to figure this out, save for the possibility that the editor-in-chief (who shall remain nameless here) figured that Dr. Strange wasn't the selling point of Strange Tales. Who knows?

What galls me more than anything are the credits placed on the character of Dr. Strange. First of all, Dr. Strange is the complete property of Marvel Comics. That was the deal in those early days and Ditko accepts that and lives with it. So far, so good. (Or bad, in my opinion--I'd never do anything but fight for my intellectual property. But that's me.) But here's the real kicker:

Whenever you see credits listed for the character of Dr. Strange, it will say "Created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko". Now, even by Lee's own admission, he had nothing whatsoever to do with the creation of that property. It was wholly created by Steve Ditko and not even Lee can dispute that with so many comments confirming this over the years. It's a matter of historical record that no one helped Ditko along, and that the only editorial changes made were to the dialogue after Ditko had delivered the pages of artwork for those early stories.

But there it is--Lee getting the credit for something he did not do.

I shouldn't let things like this bug me, but they do. Steve Ditko created Dr. Strange. No one else. And certainly no other name should be placed before Mr. Ditko's concerning that comic book property, The Master of the Mystic Arts.

The genius of Steve Ditko.
(And Steve Ditko only.)

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Elephants, Wolves, Pine trees, and Humans

Yes, still busy as HELL trying to finish the new novel. Also, busy as HELL doing the last bit of packing for Yellowstone/Grand Tetons. So I thought, in light of recent news of ecological destruction and the continuing mass extinctions of our fellow creatures, to re-post this essay. Alas.


Human beings and elephants--it’s hard to find two more disparate creatures among the order Mammalia, yes. We’re both among the animals we consider “mega fauna”, but that’s about where the relationship ends. Humans are allowed to kill and slaughter and eat every other creature on Earth, but no other creature is allowed to kill and slaughter and/or eat a human. It’s a very goddamned selfish attitude.

Due to the Internet, I’ve had the good fortune to communicate with people all over the Earth. From actual honest-to-Moses Samaritans in Palestine, to Russians, to German mountain climbers, to Israeli naturalists, to…well, the list is rather extensive.

A couple of years ago I was curious about one of my ancestral homelands—Scotland. My dad’s folk hailed from there. Clan Smith and all that. I would look at photographs of Scotland and not see any trees. I would look at maps of Scotland and figure that it was far enough south so that it should be loaded with trees. But you rarely see trees in Scotland save for very, very ancient forest plots and newer monoculture forests that are fenced in and look like dark squares and rectangles from a distance. Why was this?

Research led me to discover that there are no extensive plots of medium-aged forests in Scotland because the trees were mainly all cut down long ago. And new trees found it impossible to establish themselves for several reasons. One reason is that sheep graze the new growth before it can gain a foothold. And, historically, there are a lot of freaking sheep in Scotland. In addition, there are no large predators left in Scotland. The last wolves were slaughtered off in the mid-1700s. What the hell has this to do with trees?

A mild lesson in ecology:

The wolves in Scotland kept the red deer populations in check. The humans, not wishing to share the land with another tribal species, killed off every damned wolf in the nation. Not one remains. The biggest predators left in Scotland are badgers and Scottish wildcats. And even those are on the ropes. Again…what has this to do with the forests?

Red deer are pretty big critters. As herbivores that supply venison to the humans, they are not unwanted on the landscape. But they eat the hell out of any new green shoot that shows its leafy head. With no wolves left to cull the herds of red deer, their populations increased rapidly to the point that they were (and are) capable of eating every single new broadleaf and evergreen tree that makes so much as a pathetic attempt to break the surface of the earth. Places that should be forest are now meadow and glen. Given time and the appetite of vast numbers of red deer, there will, eventually, be no forests left in Scotland. Not any that aren’t fenced off, you see.

There are old-growth forests that pre-date the demise of the wolf. But these woods are many hundreds of years old and are reaching the ends of their lifespan. When they go, there will be only meadows in their places.

I had looked at some official informational websites in Scotland concerning the reintroduction of extirpated species. The beaver has been reintroduced in some places (although I don’t know what a beaver can do in the absence of forests). And the otter has been reintroduced in some places. So I emailed a Scottish government naturalist and asked why they didn’t reintroduce the wolf.

“Are you daft?” That was his response.

You see…people don’t like sharing Mother Earth with anything they look upon as a competitor. And wolves are so very much like humans. They have families. They have a social order. They have rules. They eat meat. They live in tribal groups. They used to compete with our species, but the idea of a few thousands competing against several billions is laughable.

Let them return home. The forests would appreciate it. They, too, could return to grace the land. I think even the red deer would appreciate it. Let their hearts race again when the long-absent call of the wild rings the night air.

Share the place, damn it!

I’ve heard that there’s a very rich man who owns vast expanses of property in Texas. I’ve gotten this second-hand, so I have no way of confirming it. Apparently this very wealthy fellow feels that North America should once again be home to many of the species that were wiped out in the wake of the Native Americans and the Europeans who later invaded. Rumor has it that he wanted the Wooly mammoth to make a comeback. Of course, as they are extinct (and cloning is currently a pipe dream), how could this be accomplished?

The closest living relative of the Wooly mammoth is the Indian elephant. So—again, based on Internet hearsay—this billionaire wants to release herds of Indian elephants to roam freely in North America.

I like the idea of not being the biggest badass in the forest. We already share what remains of our wildernesses with grizzly bears and cougars. Let the pachyderms return, in whatever form.

Share the place, damn it!

I like elephants.

Scots should like wolves. Bring ‘em back. Restore the forests. Cut our companions some goddamned slack.


Monday, August 09, 2010

Barks Duck Books

Another of my all-time favorite comic book creators was Carl Barks. His stories influenced the likes of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Every kid who grew up between the early 40s and the mid-60s and who read Donald Duck comics came to seek out and enjoy the particular comic stories written and illustrated by Mr. Barks. He had a great sense of story and a truly unique talent for illustrating action and wild emotions in all of his characters. Barks may not have created Donald Duck, but he gave him something no one else had been able to achieve: he made Donald intelligible. You didn't have to hear his insane quacking, but could just read his words and thoughts on the printed page in the form of word and thought balloons.

In addition, Carl Barks created an entire pantheon of supporting characters for Donald. Donald's nephews, Huey, Louie, and Dewey. Uncle Scrooge. Gladstone Gander. Flintheart McGlomgold. Magica DeSpell. The Beagle Boys. The Junior Woodchucks. Gyro Gearloose...the list goes on. He compiled over 500 stories for various Disney comic books during his career. He told stories in formats as short as a single page with just a few panels to vast epics of a couple of dozen pages. Comics doesn't have guys like Carl Barks anymore.

And, as with Kelly, his star is in decline at the moment and I've found myself able to buy up issues featuring his work as they are currently in low demand and thus affordable and easy to obtain.

I really like that.

One of my recent purchases, Four Color #318 featuring the epic tale, "No Such Varmint".

Sunday, August 08, 2010

Toughing It Out

Generally speaking, I like my job. It's good, honest work. You can't get any less crooked than a laborer. We lift and carry. Yeah, it's more complicated than that, but I get paid for doing physical labor. And I appreciate the fact that I have a safe, reliable job with the Federal government. I have basic health benefits for myself and my wife. I know that my paycheck is going to be there next month and the month after and as long as I want to keep the job.

That said, the work has been grueling lately. I'm 53 years old now and lugging all of that paper and parcels when it's 100 degrees out and the dew point is 70...well, that's about as miserable as it gets.

This has been going on all summer long and I'm worn down. What makes it worse is that I'm also working hard to complete my next novel for Tor Books. I'm well over 3/4 of the way to writing "The End" on that project, but I'm pushing hard to get there.

It hasn't been easy. In effect, I have two full-time jobs that I try to cram into each day and it's long past undue pressure.
But it has all been a great experience. This is something that I've actually dreamed about for twenty-five years--a major publisher paying me to write a novel. It's the completion of one part of my long struggle to earn decent money from creating works of fiction.

I just wish I could write full time. If I hit that point I will be one totally happy human being. You won't be able to pull me down from the ceiling if I can reach that particular brass ring.

Now it's off to the laptop again. Got to create some more fantasy.

Life is hard, but it could be a lot worse.

Saturday, August 07, 2010

Droll

My pal, Bill, sent me the following joke by way of another pal, Stu, by way of an old 1974 issue of the late, lamented National Lampoon Magazine:

Sir Winston Churchill was a fountain of wit recognized the world over. His penetrating insights, humorous bon mots and lightning fast rejoinders have filled anthologies, entertained and instructed millions and gone down in history.

A few of the more famous examples:

1. Winston Churchill was getting a bit tipsy at a hoity-toity social dinner when the aging hostess, Lady Everleigh-Whitcomb, said, "Winston, you're drunk!" To which Churchill replied, "Suck my dick."

2. At a similar function, the aging hostess remarked, "Winston, you're using your salad fork for the entrée!." To which the venerable statesman replied, "Cram it up your ass, you miserable old cunt."

3. Then there was the time at the Potsdam Conference when President Truman
barged into Churchill's room demanding to see him immediately. WC's valet protested that the Prime Minister was in the bath. "I don't care," Truman roared, "get him out here!" So Churchill burst into the room, dripping wet and stark
naked, and intoned, "What are you staring at, homo?"


"Yo momma an' yo wife!"

Friday, August 06, 2010

Pogo Parade #1

I picked up this great Walt Kelly comic book for only $10! For some reason, comic books by two of my favorite creators, Walt Kelly and Carl Barks have actually gone down in demand. This means that I've been able to buy back issues by both men for a fraction of the cost of what these book commanded back when I was dealing collectibles. I don't know if these books will ever be in demand again, but I really don't care. I'm just buying them to read and enjoy.

Pogo Parade #1 front cover

Pogo Parade #1 back cover.

Thursday, August 05, 2010

Current Kitties

Grouchy, touchy Sophie. She's our oldest kitty. About eleven now, I think.

Cairo, the baby of the trio. Much-o fun.

Cairo and Lilly had been bad, so I wouldn't let them outside. They stared at me with indignation.

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Alas...

When I first moved to Charlotte NC the most popular shopping center in town was Eastland Mall. It was a really nice mall. It had solid anchors: Sears, Belks, Iveys (later Dillards) and J.C. Penny's. It had an ice skating rink in the center of the mall that was in an atrium setting. Often, strolling the mall, I'd stand on the overlooking decks and watch ice skaters. Later, when I was a young father, I'd take my little boy there to go ice skating.

Eventually the mall just started to go downhill. One reason for this was that gangs of rowdy kids started hanging out there and the mall management didn't know how to handle the situation and so just let it ride. After a while the families who spent the money stopped going to the mall because of the constant threat of crime. After years and years of this, most of the anchor tenants started pulling out, sub-letting their spaces to discount stores or just allowing them to sit vacant. The last of the supporting big-box retailers to give up the ghost was Sears. When Sears leaves, you know there are no more nails to bang into the pine box.

A few months ago they closed up the mall for good. What the new owners (they bought the whole she-bang for $2million) are going to do with it is anybody's guess. If you look at old plats of the property, you can see that before they covered it over, there was a substantial stream running through what was once a hilly woodland. There would be some justice in seeing it all demolished and the land being restored to something akin to its former rural state. Fat chance.

At any rate, I rolled by it and cruised through the parking lot taking some photos. It was sad, considering the nice memories I had of the place when it was alive and kicking. I think I did most of my Christmas shopping there for about fifteen years. Alas...

From near Central Avenue toward the far end of the parking lot at the former main entrance. In the day, this parking lot would be packed on a good weekend. Forget about finding parking in December.

One of the side entrances. Eastland had a cool logo.

This was the back section of the old Sears location. The automotive department was here, and the hardware section was to the left. I spent some bucks in that store.

This is the elevated parking deck. Straight down this way was another mall entrance that was popular because the multi-screen cinema was just to the left as you went in. Goodbye to all that.



Monday, August 02, 2010

Charlotte Comic Con

I went to the Charlotte Comic Con today as a guest, as I do whenever it's held on a Sunday and I'm in town. As always, this was a great show and I had a blast. The only drawback is that I continue to be exhausted from my job and the continuing stress to finish THE CLAN. When I got home I ate supper with Carole and then fell asleep for five hours.

I met fellow horror novelist Scott Nicholson and his wife Lexie. The experience was a pleasure--very sweet people, for sure.

NC novelist/journalist Scott Nicholson and his wife, Lexie Danner.

Convention cutie promoting a book. What was the book? I don't know, I was distracted.

Lots of people in costume today. Another attractive conventioneer.

This dude had the best Star Wars costume I saw all day. (There were a number.)

This trio came in just as I was getting ready to head out for home. Great costumes!

It was really crowded at the show. Rick and Dave always put on a good convention.

Sunday, August 01, 2010

The True Meaning of Bushwhack

Several people have emailed me to say how much they'd like to hike to this waterfall:
While the hike to this waterfall is only about 200 yards from the road which runs adjacent to the wilderness area where it's located, there is no trail. I keep trying to impress upon folk what "no trail" means in the Southern Appalachians. Generally, it means extremely steep slopes, poor footing, and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of very thick vegetation. That vegetation generally being various species of brambles, rhododendron (they don't call them rhododendron hells for nothing) and often a nasty foot-grabbing plant called dog-hobble. While it wasn't very far, this is what the hike down to the bottom of the gorge looked like:

If you're up to it, then I highly recommend the scramble down to see these falls on Scotsmans Creek. Otherwise, just be aware of the kind of tough sledding you'll face. (Oh, yes. We also have lots of copperheads and rattlesnakes in this part of the country in the summertime.)

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Panic!

When I was a kid I used to watch the television show, THE WALTONS. Mainly the first couple of years. I liked it for a lot of reasons, not least of which was the fact that the main character was a young fellow who wanted to be a writer.

And one episode that I always liked was one in which that young fellow lost all of his journals and fiction in a house fire. All of his work--all of those words--were consumed by flames. He was left with nothing but empty notebooks and had to start over. It was both a devastating and encouraging bit of TV drama.

My agent emailed me last week asking for an updated file of my novel BEAUTIFUL BOY. He was submitting it to an editor and wanted to ensure that he had the most up-to-date and fully corrected version. No problem, I thought. I'll just call it up and send it on to him. I generally make multiple copies in various places to make sure I don't lose my precious manuscripts.

I clicked on one which was titled "Final Version" and had the latest date. The book is a 105,000 word novel. I scrolled down. It didn't look right. It ended in a series of thick black dots that aren't on any keyboard I've ever seen. I did a word count: 67,000 words. Damn. This wasn't the whole novel! I pulled up one of four different versions of the novel on my hard drive. None of them was over 67,000 words.

It was at this point that I was feeling queasy. I looked in my portable hard drive. It, too, had the same versions as my desktop computer. I have a flash drive that I keep by the desk purely for backing up manuscripts. I plugged it in and took a look. Same deal as before. Now I was really getting scared.

I tried to figure out what had happened. From the state of the manuscript marked "Final Version" I can only deduce that it became corrupted somehow. Thus, those black dots at the end of that manuscript. Obviously the product of some pernicious glitch.

There was no way I was going to be able to produce those missing 40,000 words! Fuck John Boy with a crowbar! Where was the file?

And then I remembered that I'd last worked on the book on my laptop computer. So I went downstairs and booted it up. I checked the files and was getting the same results as on the other hard drives and flash drive. Now panic was setting in. I was totally screwed. This novel had been a bear to write. I worked on it sporadically for a very long time--two decades, in fact, before finally finding a way to finish the job while taking time off from work to write in the North Carolina high country. It was sickening to think that I'd lost all of that hard work.

However, I didn't give up. I recalled that this was the book I felt the need to re-title after the appearance of a non-fiction best seller called BEAUTIFUL BOY from a year or so back. I looked to see if I'd saved it under one of the working titles that had never seemed, somehow, to fit the book.

And there it was, on the laptop hard drive and also on another flash drive that I keep with my laptop. It was under the title THE LOST CHILD. I had found my full 105,000 words of hard won fiction. You cannot know the relief that flooded through me.

I immediately backed it up on the flash drive and took that upstairs to my office where I saved it on every drive I own. My wife is always after me to print out hard copies of everything I write and to make copies on DVDs. After this experience I'm going to heed her advice.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Swimming the Shark

A while back, Carole and Andy and I took a long vacation to the Florida Keys. We had a blast. One of our best vacations. One of the side trips we took while in Key West was a day-long excursion to the Dry Tortugas National Park. I had heard that some of the best coral in the continental USA was just offshore of the main island, and I was keen to see that particular reef.

Once we got there and we'd been swimming around the fort for a while, I found a ranger and asked her where the best reefs were located. So she pointed out into the ocean and said, "See those buoys out there? Between buoy #4 and #5...that's where the most impressive parts of the coral reef are found."

Shit. It was about a third of a mile out. Maybe farther. But the water was clear and calm and I'm a decent swimming so I figured, "Fuck it. I've got nothin' better to do."


I told Carole where I was headed and neither she nor Andy wanted any part of it.

That meant I was swimming out on my own. No one else seemed inclined to head out there, either, with all of the action going on at the fort and the beach around it. I have to admit I was a little queasy as I waded out and began swimming out toward Buoy #4 and Buoy #5.


The farther out I swam the more fish I began to see. Not that there was any shortage of colorful fish in closer to the fort, but suddenly the water was packed with colorful fish of many types and sizes. I continued out. Faster than I would have supposed I was more than halfway to my destination. And then I looked down directly below me.


I found myself looking right at a shark that was easily six feet in length. Right away I recognized it as a harmless species, but still...it was longer than I am tall. I hovered there for a moment looking at the shark. The shark was nervous and kept trying to hide its head under a small chunk of coral. It was, apparently, more frightened of me than I was of him. Still...


I looked around. That fort and the main island suddenly looked a very long way off. The ocean around me was packed with fish. Right under me was a six-foot shark. I began to wonder what else was in the water waiting for my ass to come closer.


I snapped a couple of shots of the shark:



And then I turned around and swam back to the fort.

Fuck it. Better safe than sorry.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Galleys

The Uncorrected Proofs arrived at my house for the Tor Books version of my novel, THE FLOCK (pre-order your copy now!).


Because the book already appeared in hardcover (and is now out of print), I've been through this to some extent. However, the part that excited me was when I cracked the covers. There it was : "Books by James Robert Smith". Plural. True, the sequel won't hit the market until 2011 (or 2012 depending on scheduling), but there it was. Evidence of my second novel sale. This was very important to me and is the biggest milestone of my writing career (so far). This was part of a deal negotiated by my agent, Robert L. Fleck, so my hat's off to him.