Showing posts with label World War II. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World War II. Show all posts

Monday, November 24, 2014

Getting back to writing

Writing the first paragraph of anything is always difficult, because there’s so much pressure. That first paragraph, even more so, the first sentence, has to do so much: set the scene, get the story moving and grab the reader’s attention.

But I took a lot of pleasure from that pressure last week and wrote an opening for my next book, after a long period of spending my writing time doing other things. Things that are rewarding and worthwhile, but aren’t writing.

What have I been doing?

  • editing three excellent and very different books for colleagues, including David C. Cassidy, author of Velvet Rain and the upcoming The Dark
  • traveling with my lovely and very tolerant wife to France (well, that was just a week, but still)
  • finalizing the print version of my latest book, Army of Worn Soles—print is much less tolerant of mistakes than e-books are
  • working on revamping my website, which sad to say, still isn’t done.


In fact, my attempts to improve my website have so far had the opposite effect: they’ve rendered it unviewable by any browser. Oh, I still have the files, but I’ve done something in the coding that creates a looping redirect. So for the past couple of weeks, my spare home-office time has been taken up with researching cheap or free, yet easy-to-use HTML editors for the Mac.

Now, there are some excellent inexpensive programs, but I found one that’s free, and that does (or purports to do) all the things I want to have in my website. There’s something in me that just won’t let me shell out 80 buck US for something when I can almost the same thing for free. The downside is that I had to start all over again to rebuild the site.

Anyway, the revamped site is close to being done, and when it is, this blog will look very different.

This is a blog about writing, not about being a cheapskate

Clio by Pierre Mignard.
Source: Wikipedia 
Thank you, muse of writing. 

The writing. Well, last week, I pushed the website and the book formatting aside for a while to return to writing. I know that I said in June that I would have the sequel to Army of Worn Soles out by December, and we all know that’s not going to happen.

I have had this nagging feeling that comes from knowing that I have been putting off finishing the story of Maurice Bury, my late father-in-law, and his experiences in the Second World War. Now, I feel so much better that I have started to make progress again.

This is a very early draft, but here’s an opening:
Ukraine, January 1942Wind blew the snow smooth, polishing surface of the lake to a dull sheen under the full moon, and pushing drifts higher than a man along a rough fence that shielded the railway. Beyond the rails, more snow weighed down the boughs of close-growing fir trees and covered their trunks more than six feet high. 
The moonlight made steam sparkle as a train emerged from the forest to puff and groan slowly along the edge of the frozen lake. The engineer squinted through the small forward window, which gave only an obstructed view. Periodically, he would lean out the side window to peer at the track ahead, but he could only bear the frigid air, the wind from the train’s forward motion, and the smoke and cinders from the engine, for less than a minute before he had to come back inside. 
He kept the train’s speed low and one hand on the brake lever, despite the commands of the Wehrmacht officers in the cars behind him. He knew the risks of going too fast in this country. Besides snowdrifts over the tracks that could derail the train despite the plows welded onto the front of the engine, the men he knew hid under the dark boughs posed worse threats.
Army of Worn Soles chronicled Maurice’s drafting into the Red Army, his service as an officer as the army retreated across Ukraine and his capture along with half a million other men, his imprisonment and his escape along with the men in his command from the POW camp. The second story is about his experiences after that:
  • fighting in the underground resistance against Nazi Germany
  • being re-drafted by the Red Army
  • fighting across the Baltic states and then eastern Germany, up to Berlin in May, 1945
  • and finally, his narrow escape from the Red Army and Stalin’s NKVD to return home to Canada, where he was born.

I think I’ve got it all mapped out now, and about 80 percent of it is written. But I am having one problem, dear readers: the title. So I’m turning to you. In the Comments section below, tell me which of the following possible titles you think is the most grabbing:

  • Walking Out of War
  • Walking Away from War
  • Slipping Through Stalin’s Net
  • The Four-Sided War
  • Worn Soles Home

I’m looking forward to your comments!

Sunday, June 22, 2014

It's launch day today

Image courtesy SpaceX
Army of Worn Soles, my third book, launches officially today.

It’s exclusively on Amazon, at least for three months, allowing me to take advantage of the marketing and promotional tools available through the Kindle Select program.

Go to Amazon right now for a look inside (or to buy it if you can't wait)
And in celebration of the launch, I’m putting my previous books, The Bones of the Earth and One Shade of Red, on sale for just 99 cents each on all channels, all week long:

What’s it about?

Ukraine, 1941
A Canadian is drafted into the Soviet Red Army, just in time to be thrown against Nazi Germany's invasion. Caught in the vise of the Nazi and Communist forces, Maurice Bury concentrates on keeping his men alive as they retreat across Ukraine from the German juggernaut. Now the question is: will they escape from the hell of the POW camp before they starve to death?

Follow the tour and win a signed paperback

Sixteen awesome bloggers are supporting the launch of Army of Worn Soles by posting excerpts. Coming up:

Monday, June 23: Rebekah Lynn’s Books blog
Tuesday, June 24: Michael Lorde’s M.E. Author blog
Wednesday, June 25: BestSelling Reads’ Win-a-Book Wednesday—two chances to win!
Thursday, June 26: Wodke Hawkinson’s Find a Good Book to Read blog
Friday, June 27: Seb Kirby’s New Words for New Times
Saturday, June 28: Michelle Chiapetta’s Chipper Muse
Sunday, June 29: Gae-Lynn Woods’ The Big Heat
Monday, June 30: Back to Written Words for the wrap-up.

Read each blog on its day and collect the clue. Put all the clues together and unscramble them for a chance to win a signed paperback copy.

And if you enter the clue into the comments field in the respective blog, you’re eligible to win a free e-copy. Don’t delay—enter now!

You still have a chance to go back to the previous blogs. For a list, visit my blog post from the start of the tour.

Why June 22?

June 22 is the anniversary of a key event in the book and the life of its protagonist, Maurice Bury. What is it? Well, you’ll just have to read the book to find out.

Get it from Amazon today!

Thursday, May 01, 2014

First look: My new novel, Army of Worn Soles

A Red Army anti-tank squad in World War II
Photo source: WWII in color http://www.ww2incolor.com/soviet-union/sovietatsquad.html
I'm very excited because my third book is getting closer to publishing! 

I've settled on a title: Army of Worn Soles. Thanks to my good friend Martin Champoux for suggestions that led me to this.

I've just received the second editing pass by my editor, none other than the renowned Rebecca Tsaros-Dickson. So while this may be a little premature, I think the first chapter is pretty close to being done. So, here it is. Let me know what you think in the Comments.

Chapter 1: Prisoner of War

Kharkiv, October 1941


Maurice sat on the ground, put the bottle beside him and took off his shirt. Spreading the officers uniform on the smoothest piece of ground he could find, he lay the bottle near the collar then pushed down and rolled it over the shirt. The lice cracked under the glass. He rolled the bottle back and forth, feeling a dull satisfaction at his first pathetic victory in more than half a year.
Crunch, crunch.
The effort was exhausting. He stopped. His stomach ached and his throat burned with thirst.
He slumped back until he leaned against the barracks. Men in grey uniforms stood or walked across the cobbled courtyard of the ancient castle. One came toward him, a slim man with light brown hair and hazel eyes. He stopped in front of Maurice and leaned down.
Maurice? Is it you? he said.
Breathing required effort. So did looking up. Maurice had not eaten in days, but he still trusted his sight. He knew the man with the light-brown hair and hazel eyes, even in a Wehrmacht uniform. 
Maurice?" the young man said again. "What are you doing here?
He couldnt swallow. His mouth held no moisture. Dying. Im starving to death, Bohdan. Maurice closed his eyes and hung his head.
Bohdan crouched beside him. You got drafted?
Maurice made the effort to look up again at his old friend. The Red Army made me a lieutenant. What the hell are you doing here in a German uniform, Bohdan?
The Germans kicked the Russians out, something we couldnt do. Why shouldnt I join the winning side? And it's Daniel now, not Bohdan. He looked around to make sure no one noticed him, a Wehrmacht officer, talking to a prisoner of war. Im glad you survived, that you were captured instead of killed. The Germans killed a lot of Red soldiers.
I know. I was there.
Bohdan looked around again to make sure no officers were watching him talk with a prisoner. "How did you get here?
Like you said, we were captured, the whole army, outside Kharkiv. They brought us here.
Bohdan shook his head. Are you all right? Ill see if I can bring you anything, but I have to be careful.
Maurice looked into his friends eyes. Get me out of here.
Set a prisoner free? Are you crazy?
Bohdansorry, Daniel, youre my best friend. Or you were. If I ever meant anything to you, get me out.
DanielBohdan, looked left and right again. I cannot let Red soldiers go, he whispered.
Maurice took a dry breath. His strength was almost gone. Daniel, youre an officer in a victorious army. You have the power. You can get me out, me and my boys. You have the power to get us out of here.


Daniel shook his head and stood. Stalin's going to surrender within six months, and then all the prisoners will be freed. Hitler has promised freedom for all nations. Well all be free. Ukraine will be free.
Maurice looked at the ground between his splayed legs. He could no longer lift his head. I cant wait six months. I cant wait two days. If you wait, youll find a corpse. Well all be dead. You have to get us out now.
Daniel, the Ukrainian man in a German uniform, hesitated. He looked around the camp again, but no one paid attention. So the Reds made you an officer, did they? Where are your men? All dead?
Somewhere, Maurice found the strength to stand up again. He staggered to the barracks door, went in and called his odalenye, the unit he commanded. Step over here, boys.
Daniel followed Maurice inside, and Maurice wondered if he wasnt breaking some regulation by entering prisoners quarters unaccompanied by at least one guard. Maurice scanned the room, taking in the injured, starving and defeated men. He realized when they saw Daniel, they saw their captor. 
Daniel stepped out of the barracks and waited for his friend outside the door. Ill see what I can do, Maurice. But youre on the wrong fucking side. He left.
Maurice picked up the bottle on the ground beside him and returned to crushing the lice out of his uniform shirt. It was the only thing he could do to reduce his misery.
He thought about the last time he had seen Bohdan, before he was Daniel. It was in the gymnasium, the pre-university school in Peremyshl. What used to be Poland.
Wikimedia Commons

Watch for Army of Worn Soles on June 1!


Sunday, November 11, 2012

In memory

6-Sentence Remembrance Day

Photo used under Creative Commons from dougbelshaw
Today is Remembrance Day, also known as Veteran's Day in the US, and Armistice Day in the UK and elsewhere.

In honour of the day and the men and women who have served or suffered in war, my six sentences today are from another work in progress. Tentatively called Walking from the Soviet Union, it's the story of my father-in-law, Maurice, who was drafted into the Soviet Red Army just before Nazi Germany attacked in June 1941. A lieutenant, he commanded 12 men in an anti-tank unit. He was captured near Kharkiv, Ukraine in September, along with thousands of other troops.

This excerpt deals with his imprisonment in the POW camp called Coal Mountain.


Maurice dropped his sledgehammer and joined the lineup for supper. The sun was already down and the air was chill, but no one had enough energy to complain. They shuffled to a Luftwaffe private ladling soup from a barrel into small metal bowls. No bread, just  what the Germans called soup for the prisoners on the eastern front: fish heads floating in water. The Nazis gave the British and French prisoners on the western front twice the amount of calories daily, compared to the starvation rations for the untermenschen, the sub-human Slavs.
For more six-sentence samples, visit SixSunday.com.