I JUST KNEW SOMETHING BAD WAS GOING ON IN THERE

It’s kinda cool when someone remembers specific scenes from the books you’ve written . . . even if that someone is your brother.

My brother Rick and I were chatting a few weeks ago about novels and movies, and he brought up a particular scene he remembered from Plague.

“That building with no windows,” he said.  “I just knew something bad was going on in there, but I didn’t wanna know what.  I was sure it was gonna be something I didn’t wanna hear about.  But I kept reading.” 

COULDA BEEN WORSE

ss-161008-matthew-path-destruction-mbe-1146p_402276f383eddbfd2046e4afe8a2df5a-nbcnews-ux-1024-900As disruptive as Hurricane Matthew was for St. Simons Island, Georgia, my favorite spot on the Atlantic Coast, it was not a worst-case, Eyewall-type scenario.

Matthew, most importantly (and obviously) was not a Category 5 monster.  But there was also a bit of luck that factored into things not being worse: the hurricane jogged slightly to the right, farther away from the coast, as it churned past St. Simons and Brunswick.  It also swirled by the island near low tide, substantially mitigating the effects of storm surge flooding.  Once past the Golden Isles, Matthew jiggyed back toward South Carolina.  So, yes, there was a smidgen of luck that hovered over SSI.

LIVING ON THE FAULT LINE

image.vam.synacor.com.edgesuiteI believe there are two different ways Cascadia, my newest novel, is being read.  It’s dependent, I think, upon where the readers live.

When I do a presentation on Cascadia in the Southeast, where I reside, I’ve discovered I need to do a little extra.  I have to set the stage for the drama, because most people outside the Pacific Northwest don’t understand the existential threat this thing featured in the novel, the Cascadia Subduction Zone (CSZ), poses.  They aren’t knowledgable about the acute danger that lurks in Washington and Oregon, as well as in southern British Columbia and northern California.

AN INDIAN VILLAGE, A BOOKSTORE, AND A SCENE FROM CASCADIA

ar12981428179091The opening scene in my newest novel, Cascadia, is set in a Clatsop Indian village on the Pacific Northwest coast over three hundred years ago.  Based on research, I placed the village on the present site of Seaside, Oregon.

I’m not entirely certain there was an Indian village there in 1700, the date of the scene, but I  do know there were several small Clatsop settlements in that area in 1805 when members of the Lewis and Clark Expedition arrived.  Thus, I assumed there was likely one there a century before that.

CASCADIA—CHICK LIT?

Clipart-Cartoon-Design-13As an author, you’re a public figure.  Whether you like or not, your works—your books—become a free-fire zone for public opinion.

I don’t disagree with that.  People spend their hard-earned money to buy your products and thus have every right to express their thoughts about them.

Your books will be both acclaimed and denigrated.  It’s part of the business.  I don’t particularly like getting a thumbs down in a book review—and I don’t often—but it comes with the territory.  Readers have different expectations and standards.  I get it.

WHY I DIDN’T ADDRESS “COUNTING THE DEAD” IN CASCADIA

earthquake-damage-1CASCADIA isn’t totally a novel.  By that I mean it’s not completely fiction.  The event the novel is set against, a massive earthquake and huge tsunami in the Pacific Northwest, is something that’s really going to happen.

In my previous novels, EYEWALL, SUPERCELL and BLIZZARD, I depicted major weather events that, while certainly possible, are not highly probable.  In other words, I stretched, maybe to the ripping point, the envelope of meteorological likelihood.  (In case you’re wondering, SUPERCELL was likely the least “stretchy” of my tales.)

WHERE WILL YOU BE ON “C-DAY?”

imagesWhere will you be on “C-Day,” the day the Cascadia Subduction Zone blows a gasket?  Yeah, yeah, I know.  Maybe we’re all six feet under or blowing in the wind by then.

Or maybe not, not if Cascadia lets ‘er rip tomorrow or over the Fourth of July weekend, like in the novel, Cascadia.

So, where might you be?

 

Possibly, like a guy nicknamed Shack in Cascadia, you’re visiting the small Oregon coastal town of Manzanita and just sitting down to breakfast in The Big Wave Cafe.

IT’S QUIET OUT THERE . . . TOO QUIET—A LOOK AT THE 2016 HURRICANE SEASON

Hurricane_Wilma_over_South_Florida,_enhanced_color_GOES_12_satellite_imageThe season for blizzards has drifted away.  The climatological peak for tornadoes and supercells is spinning past us.  So now comes the months when we turn a wary eye toward the oceans, and terms such as “storm surge” and “eyewall” begin to creep into our conversations.  The 2016 Atlantic hurricane season is officially underway (June 1st).

Not that “officially” means much anymore.  Two rogue storms already have thumbed their noses at officialdom this year, Hurricane Alex in January, and Tropical Storm Bonnie just a few days ago.

CASCADIA–A PICTORIAL PREVIEW

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This blog is different from most I write, in that it’s built around pictures and photographs rather than words.


Cascadia, my forthcoming novel, is set primarily along the spectacular and rugged northern Oregon coast.  I grew up not far from there in Portland, and I know I didn’t fully appreciate the magnificence of the region until after I’d left and returned for visits.

 

 

CBM08REChaystack

One of the most iconic features along the Oregon coast is Haystack Rock near Cannon Beach. In the novel, you’ll spend a lot of time around both places, Haystack and Cannon Beach.

YES, I KNOW THAT’S NOT WHAT A REAL TSUNAMI LOOKS LIKE

CASCADIA FRONT COVER 4_1When I got my first look at what is now the cover of Cascadia, my left-brain (logical, factual) persona took over.

 I fired off an email to my publisher: “NO, sorry.  The cover image looks great, but it’s much too Hollywood.  A real tsunami doesn’t look anything like that.”

Now most publishers, especially the majors, will merely drop a cover in an author’s lap and say, “That’s it.”  But in an unusual effort to accommodate their left-brained, pain-in-the-ass novelist, me, Bell Bridge Books ran through five more iterations of the cover.