BLUF: Can’t-put-down action and intrigue with a sci-fi twist.

Alright, readers. Long time hangers-out at this site know that I’ve done some work with JB, and I think he’s a pretty cool guy.

What you should also know is that I’ve been a fan of his work since the 00’s, and this fact way predates me coming into contact with him. His writing is tight, awesome, and rich. In fact, I haven’t run across something of his that actually sucked, ever. If I did, I would call it as it is.

Well, lemme say that his latest, “Sleeper Agent,” is a very long way from suckage.

It’s a pretty awesome book.

Here is my official review:

I’ve been a big fan of John Birmingham’s work for well over a decade- ever since I found a dog-eared copy of one of his paperbacks in a GI mini-library. Back then, I read a few pages and I was hooked. Fast forward some thirteen, fourteen years and maybe the media type has changed (Audible), but his writing has not. Sleeper Agent, his latest, was crafted to the same high standard as the rest of his catalog. 

What can I say? The book’s start drew me in with a confrontation between the protagonist and some bad guys, and it escalated from there. The narrative tension kept ratcheting upwards as it should, and what seemed at first to be a conventional spy novel transformed into a near-future yarn with strong science fiction elements. 

All of it was credible, there was very little suspension of belief necessary as the tale rolled forward. I enjoyed this book during a couple of long car rides and it helped out during household chores. It was great, and at no point did I have the desire to shut my iPad and walk away. Each chapter found me wanting more.

This. This is what good fiction does. Highly recommend for lovers of general action, spy craft, and science fiction. 

Now that you guys have seen the boilerplate, I’d like to add a few notes.

The narrator for this book worked very well, it suited the genre and story nicely. Absolutely loved this thing on car rides, it made a few three-hour slogs turn into almost invisible exercises. This is the true acid test of an audio book, IMO.

As an aside, I was very impressed with my iPad’s interface with Subaru’s Apple CarPlay. See image below:

But I digress.

By all means, go ahead and buy this book.

It’s pretty sweet!

After being mired down in the lousy Afghanistan nightmare, it’s time to return to this site’s roots. Science fiction and writing!

The above image is the rough-draft cover of my upcoming novel “The Storyteller’s Heaven” in my latest trilogy, “The Promised Land.” The premise is that we ride along during the birth of interstellar travel, and our voyagers are… unconventional humans. The first book is available right now in serial form on my Patreon site, and now that the dust has somewhat settled I can tentatively say that I’d like a pre-holiday release in December. Of course, I don’t know if that is feasible, and here’s why.

First, this is my first truly indie release, and my first independent title release since 2017. Yes, it has been that long. By first real indie release I mean I do all the work more or less myself. In the past I relied on Amazon’s CreateSpace service, and that hurt me in a couple of ways. First, when they went belly up I lost access to my master files, but at least I still had the originals as edited Word docs. Second, my original trilogy has their ISBNs. Finally, their service was ruinously expensive and I will probably never make my money back. So, this time I’m doing something else.

Alright, a major obstacle is getting this release edited, but I think this is under control. To everyone out there who is considering writing a book, make sure you have a good editor! Nothing guarantees one-star reviews like bad editing. So you must get your baby edited properly. There are no shortcuts, there is simply the question of how much you are willing to pay.

There are also some administrative issues that I need to make myself smart on, for example getting my own ISBNs and copyrights. Pretty sure this won’t take too long to figure out, but these are details that must not be forgotten. Another important task is getting a cover design finalized. Once again, be prepared to spend a little bit of money for a quality product. I have the good luck to know my cover designer, and so far I have been happy with her work. But it will cost you a bit. However, a good cover is worth every cent! People do judge a book by its cover. Seriously. So what you see above still needs a bit of tweaking, and I won’t let up until I have what I want, and my artist knows that.

Finally, let me say that I released this cover behind my paywall some six weeks ago, and I thought the time was right to spread the word on the free internet as well. After all, I think we’re well within the ninety day window, so it’s time to drum up a little interest.

Personally, I’m pretty excited about this, and I can’t wait to try out the software I’m using to produce this book, Vellum. It’s a pain, but it is nice to control the process. If you control the process, then you can get some stuff done.

Well, I intend to get this done.

December timeframe, hopefully in time for the holiday reading season. I’ll keep you posted.

J

Hey readers!

It is with a glad heart that I can announce the latest decision in my writer’s journey, the launch of The KIng’s Ohio Rifles in serial fashion on my Patreon page.

I’ve been dying to release this completed trilogy for the better part of a year, I think I completed Book Three back this past winter. I decided to create the paywall site a couple of months ago, and the thought occurred to me that maybe some more peeps would like to come aboard if I threw in my alt WW1 history into the mix.

Would you like to know the premise? Sure.

The American Revolution didn’t happen, and Bill Strohmeier, a private in the King’s Ohio Rifles, fights for his life in a different World War One.

So if this interests you, you can get aboard for three bucks a month. Lemme tell you what three smackeroos buys you; two series for the price of one, plus ebooks at the end of the cycles. There is The Promised Land, about the dawn of interstellar travel, and The Ohio Rifles, where it’s 1915, but it’s not our 1915.

Five bucks buys you both series, of course, as well as bonus material and my commentary.

And the grand poo-bah, ten bucks? All the bennies of the lower tiers plus you get to pick which series to name your very own character! Or even to write a quick short, and I’ll blend it in somehow.

I’m not going to say otherwise, I’ve picked up a lot of this technique from my friend and mentor John Birmingham. He has a fantastic site himself over at Patreon, if you are not a member over there I’d recommend that you become one.

And it wouldn’t hurt if you wanted to get aboard my site, too.

Catch you soon!

J

It has been said that the hardest moment of any journey is the very first step, overcoming the inertia of doing absolutely nothing.

I agree with this idea.

You see, I’ve really been struggling with this as of late, I have a mountain of stuff to do both with my Patreon site and straight-up writing in my new trilogy.

There are many reasons for this, along with a few stupid excuses. We all know that the kill radius of an excuse is zero meters, right? So I won’t do excuses.

Here is what needs to happen.

I need to schedule the narratives in my Patreon site, the first book of the Promised Land Trilogy is created.

Here is an obstacle.

Around the drama and horror of what happened in Afghanistan I’ve been dwelling on what I want to capture in the opening moments of Book Two of the trilogy. Believe it or not this has slowed me down for two months. My protagonist needs to act a certain way, and I need to capture his emotion, his sense of wonder and fear. However, I worry that my efforts will be inadequate.

It’s time to kick self-doubt in the dick, to paraphrase the words of advice from John Birmingham in his amazing how-to re: being an author.

This is ridiculous. The last thing I wrote was on the 25th of June. The 25th of June. Seriously?

Yeah. Seriously.

Alright, I know this has been a totally distracting summer. Vacations. Road trips of discovery. The fkn debacle in Afghanistan. All of it added up has definitely screwed up my side gig, this writing thing. I am sure that you guys have noticed on this website, because I neglected this place as well. If it were a building there would be a broken window, weeds on the sidewalk and a wet basement.

So let’s get cracking, shall we?

It is time to drop in on my protagonist, Joe. I need to do some reading (and I have. My verdict? Probably not the crap I had feared). After the reading, to re-establish the mood, it will be time to write.

Chapter One of Book Two.

Everyone knows that the second work of a trilogy is the toughest one, the traditional bridge novel.

Well, this is my third trilogy, so it’s old hat. In theory.

BTW, after consulting with my friend, I have decided to release my unpublished trilogy on Patreon as well.

There is a lot to be excited about! I am looking forward to this fall; hopefully I can pull some of you along on the journey as well.

J

And no, I’m not getting drunk a bunch. If any. But there have definitely been times over the past month where I really wanted to reach for that can, or a bottle. It’s been a real adventure around here, and maybe not in such a good way.

Times have been tough.

Writing has been close to a mission impossible, especially with the Afghan drama last month. One bright spot has been the success of the GoFundMe by some other advisors for our interpreters. That worked out well, with three times (nearly) in pledges then the requested amount. So that was cool.

Besides that I’ve really just been watching the seasons change, with the days growing inevitably shorter and crisper as we head into the fall. There’s a lot going on, but curiously there isn’t, also. It’s just being one of those years, and I thought it was something to do to at least give you, my readers, proof of life.

Yes, I am still here. No, I have not disappeared.

I need to return to the keyboard, there’s a lot of work that’s waiting on me to get done.

Especially on my Patreon website. I have enough material for now, but that stuff doesn’t write itself.

So a return to work is past due.

Stay tuned.

So all of us know the story about the sudden, chaotic and rushed departure from Afghanistan by US and Allied forces.

I think all of you know my opinion about how the withdrawal was handled.

However, this does not take away from the fact that there were desperate, heroic and valorous acts involved with getting our service members, civilian personnel and friends out.

I pull out my hair at the thought of those left behind. It is scandalous, and pure incompetence and treachery.

But many made it out, and today I celebrate this.

With great pleasure I’d like to announce a GoFundMe page for the interpreters and family of 3rd Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 209th ANA Corps.

Word has reached me that what remains of our battalion, the 3rd, have retreated into the Panshir and are still doing battle with the Taliban. How long this lasts, who knows. But it fills me with a somber pride that my men are giving it their all.

This. This is the least I can do for the living.

The dead cannot be helped.

Yeah, I’ve been quiet lately. There’s a reason for that. Because I do not want to spend a ton of words raving about the abject debacle that we are watching unfold in Afghanistan, a place I know well.

However, I will talk about the situation a bit. There could be some readers who are curious what my opinion is. So I’ll give it to you.

First, some background, BLUF.

The end of my career was spent as an infantry advisor to 2nd Rifle Company, 3rd Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 209th Afghan National Army Corps. They say we were “training” forces, but what we really did was backstopped the ANA during combat operations, both large and small. I guess a couple of times I did hold some formal classes and ranges with those guys, but mostly it was patrols and operations.

By operations I mean sweeps, raids, deliberate attacks, ambushes, etc. We attacked and were attacked by the Taliban and other insurgent groups.

I got to know what I saw as “my men.” I absorbed and breathed in their fierce warrior culture, the ethos of those rugged mountains.

Why did they fold this past week like a house of cards.

I’ll lay it out.

1. Name a modern army that can operate when all logistical support is withdrawn.

2. We made it clear that we would not support the Afghans after a declared date. So no prospect of help.

3. No air support, very limited Afghan air assets.

4. Years of infiltration by the Taliban, who are famously patient versus the US, who (in)famously are not.

5. The common soldier had pay, food, medical support, etc. witheld by corrupt officials. 

6. High morale with Taliban, the opposite with the Afghan Army, who often felt abandoned by the central government.

7. Superior planning and execution by the Taliban.  

That last point is simply the case. The Taliban rolled up the entire country in less than a week, the morale of the Army completely collapsed and disaster ensued.

I watched the footage of that C-17 taking off from Kabul with my mouth open in shock. The poor bastards mobbing a moving aircraft, people getting run over and falling to their deaths.

The most secure area in a combat zone is supposed to be the airhead. That footage told me that there was zero control or security for a US Air Force aircraft, cargo and crew. Heads should roll.

Heads should roll!

So far, I’m not seeing it. All that I’m seeing is “pass the buck” in Washington, regardless of what the President claims. It’s all mealy-mouthed bullsh*t up to this point, incredible betrayal, unforced errors and obfuscation.

I could b*tch about the waste of years of my life, the ultimate negation of my seemingly misspent youth, and the cavalier dismissal of my family’s sacrifice.

But that’s selfish and stupid compared to the scenes I’m witnessing on TV and the crushing tragedy being experienced right f*cking now by the Afghan people.

It’s like watching a car wreck. You can’t tear away your eyes. I avoid the news and it still finds a way to seep under the door and blow into my eyes.

So yeah. What more can I say?

Disgusting.

See the image above? Sure looks like a town in Afghanistan with a military convoy going through.

Guess what? It is. I know this place well, I have eaten kabobs there many times.

Now look at the image below, courtesy of CNN/Getty.

As you can see, the town is under new management.

At the moment I have nothing but profanity to utter, so I’ll cut it short.

Hopefully the next installment can be on a better note.

Alright, my long time readers will know that from time to time I review camping gear, I have an interest in cheap stuff that works well. While browsing a surplus website here in the US, I found a French Army tropical surplus tent for an unbelievable price. 38 bucks!

If you act fast, you can get one of these right now. Surplus dries up fast. Spoiler: Good tent, if you respect its limits and understand its intended use.

OK, first let me address a couple of videos I have seen on YouTube. One was particularly bad, the poster completely set the tent up to fail, and then he complained about it. Terrible set up, etc.

Alright, a few factoids and first impressions about this tent. First, mine arrived brand-new, unissued. There is no guarantee that yours will be the same. It was date-stamped 1992. See below.

This tent was full mil-spec quality, and something a soldier is expected to do is to prepare his/her equipment. This is especially important on brand-new gear. For example, would you go on a twenty-mile hike with spanking new boots? (The answer should always be NO.) A new tent is the same.

The YouTube fellow not only set the tent up like crap, there was no indication that he prepared it with seam-sealer or a waterproofing spray. Then he complained that it leaked. Well, go figure. Any tent from Wally World would do the exact same if subjected to the same treatment.

But I digress; needless to say I think this tent didn’t get a fair shake on YouTube.

Let me talk about this first rate, if somewhat dated, tropical military tent.

A big surprise. Actual, no-kidding YKK zippers and a full mesh screen, along with generous meshed venting along the sides of the tent. I shook my head at the quality and foresight of construction on the F1 Tropical, it is top-notch stuff. BTW, not canvas but vinyl (Important. I wouldn’t have a canvas tent given to me.)

As an aside, I have come to expect quality from surplus French Army stuff. Very well built and practical gear. Every bit the equal, and in some cases better, than US or UK kit.

So I unpacked my tent, I was the first person to do so since the factory. Everything still had factory rubber bands on it, everything was arranged just-so in the bag. The thing was perfect, I was almost afraid to set it up it was so nice.

But I did, and I learned a thing or two doing so.

First; this tent needs seam sealer along its stitched surfaces, like always, and it needs to be tight.

This isn’t so hard to understand. The French made it easy to figure out, although I did do one minor mod. See below.

In the tent’s eight(!) stake down loops, I ran some 550 (parachute) cord through each. Makes life a little easier when you set-up/tear-down. Here is where I ran into one of my few gripes with this tent, but it’s easily fixed.

LOL if you try to use the issued bent-wire stakes in sand or gravel. Totally useless. Now, for around here with clayey loam, they are great. Or maybe in France itself. But in the Sahara? Or Mali? A really bad idea. So in addition to making sure you prep the tent, you may want to get different stakes depending on your soil. For my uses the supplied stakes are fine. But in the Australian Outback? Not so much.

Another criticism, but not from me, was somewhat legit if a bit spoiled. YouTube dude didn’t like it that the door is only on one side of the tent. Well, I guess a little situational awareness is called for when setting this bad boy up, I didn’t have an issue here.

Speaking of door. Did I mention the nice zippers? The full rain doors backed by mesh? It’s a nice set up. I have to say I’m a bit dubious about how long the “shock” cording (a big spring) on the two poles will last in hard use, but if you saw how the poles were constructed, you’d realize it’s just a convenience feature, anyhow.

This is a good tent, it beats the ever-living hell out of the old canvas USGI “shelter-half” which was still in widespread use in the US Army in 1992. It is a somewhat old-fashioned design, but it does what it’s supposed to do pretty well. It’s theoretically a two-person tent, but I’d call it one person plus gear.

It weighs about five pounds and is relatively bulky, so this is best for vehicular ops, or mech infantry applications.

I wouldn’t lug this very far, but it can be done with careful packing.

So there you have it. For LESS than a total piece of junk at Wally World, a mil-spec, pretty good tent. This will do the job if you use it as intended, and I do not doubt that it will outperform and outlast the flimsy Big Box tent.

Just make sure you stretch it tight. With a grand total of SIXTEEN anchor/tensioning points, this shouldn’t be a problem.

Buy with confidence, I hope you get one as good as mine.

Here is a sample, the first page, of a fanfic short that I composed in the World War 3.1 universe for John Birmingham.

Sergei Petrov couldn’t remember his parents at all. For some reason on this stuffy June night that mattered. The muttering of the guns and the idling diesels punctuated his thoughts. Everything stunk. The chemical reek of ordnance. The violated earth. His squad mates disgusting funk, especially that Ukrainian pig Oleg and the stupid blackass Ibrahim. The reeks choked him, his skin itched with revulsion. 

The Red Army had held few surprises for Sergei, a product of Orphanage Number Sixteen. The fine institute was located outside of what could have been the place of his birth, Vyazma. He snorted. Where he had been born meant exactly nothing, except for a starting point in his graduation through a succession of organs of the State. 

His earliest memory was of being beaten by older youths over scraps of bread. He shrugged. That must have been in the Great Patriotic War against the fascists. Times back then had been hard, he remembered how precious a steaming bowl of kasha was, or dried fish. Shriveled cabbage. Moldy bread. He had learned young not to look too closely at what he ate. 

The Russian that he spoke, mat, was as filthy as his ass. Every other word was “fuck,” and most insults had something to do with the mother that he had never known. What he did know was soul-crushing work and the brutal discipline of the State. He had done a little of everything. Helped with the harvest. Industrial cleaning in the grease pits of a steel mill. Assembly line work for microprocessors, operating a shear press in a Kevlar factory. 

He frowned. The press had been the best of jobs, although half his coworkers were missing a finger or two. He had had no such luck when the Commissars of the People’s Red Army showed up at the factory looking for numbers to fill their quota. Sergei’s foreman had fingered him, the moldy cunt, and four businesslike, unsmiling men threw him into a Black Maria with the other suckers. 

Now here he was, in a slit grave along with his fire team. They were a bunch of shits who wouldn’t have lasted two months in the Orphanage, where the inmates were no better off than zeks. Enemies of the State, orphans, criminals, what did it matter? All of them ended up in the infantry, where everyone was equally miserable and totally fucked. 

He shrugged in the darkness, the diesels of the tanks behind him muttered and ticked. His company of motor-rifle infantry were deployed in ambush hides in front of the main line, the theory was that the Stalin heavies would shoot and burn the fascist’s armor at half a kilometer. Whoever made it past that would have to deal with his battalion, the poor foot soldiers were dug in forward of the main line. 

The fucking tankers called them “crunchies.”

The rest is behind the paywall at my Patreon site.