Rodger That: The Rapid Change Of Industrialized America’s Economy

As America industrialized, the economy changed rapidly. Agricultural families who had produced much of what they needed gave way to wage earners dependent on industrialists. The cobbler who crafted shoes one at a time could not compete with factories using machines to cut production from days to hours. The industrialists, especially those with little compassion, became incredibly wealthy and entitled.

Family independence eroded as the farm and craftsman economy gave way to wages. There had always been employees, but to keep skilled help, compensation was a living wage. With industrialization, there were more workers than jobs and many were desperate.

Those who rejected that choice migrated to the frontier—almost always West and eventually north—where those willing to eke out a living searching for gold or trapping furs might thrive. 

But it was only a matter of time until the industrial class followed them. Small logging groups became Timber companies. Small mines became Mineral Corporations. Still, wages paid in those environments were better than the sweat shops of the East.

Unfortunately, some of the wealthy from the East decided they were entitled to own the West. They manipulated congress to grant them concessions for resources local people believed were theirs. Worse, with little or no law enforcement in the territories, some simply muscled aside the local population, much of it Native American, or eliminated the opposition altogether.

Robber Barons is a story of how one small group of local people fought back; how they tried to use the law and even to change the law. It is also the story of how they used the same skills that allowed them to survive in the West to fight fire with fire. 

Rodger Recommends: Something Old, Something New

I probably read 25 or so books every year. As a writer of the Team Walker thriller series, I find myself drawn to other authors who write in this genre. I’ve been in the business long enough to appreciate many of the authors who write thrillers both for their work as well as for their support and comradery. Among my favorites from well-known authors are Brad Thor’s Edge of Honor and the book Cold Burn, written by Jeff Ayres and John Land. Both books reflect the creativity and skills of masters of the craft of writing. Great reads from people I know and respect.

Mixed into my thriller reads for last year was a unique take on the genre from first time writer, Jay S. Bell. Well, Jay is really Scott Bell who has been writing for years. His book, Welcome to Cottonmouth, tips the traditions of writing thrillers. Usually, a story will set the stage, introduce the characters, and develop a story line that tips into an action scene, that then opens the next sequence in the story. This repeats until a final action sequence that ends the book. Welcome To Cottonmouth is really three action scenes somehow tied together with enough character and storyline to make the book a fun read.

At least every quarter I reach into my library for a real classic. Last month’s book was written Ernest K. Gann, whose heyday was in the 1950s and 1960s. Ernie Gann was a genius at sea yarns and was among the first writers to take one of my favorite endeavors, aviation, and write thrillers set at 25,000 feet where a thrilling conflict was compounded by the realization that losing the battle meant a lot of innocent characters would die as well as the combatants.

Twilight for the Gods took me into the South Pacific early in the last century. Gann invited me aboard the tramp sailing ship, the Cannibal, with her rotting sails, leaking hull and mutinous crew as her captain desperately tries to salvage a career by delivering an almost worthless cargo to Mexico. This is not a story where normal becomes dangerous. Rather it is a story where everything from the setting to the characters, to the tools of the trade already have no margin for error and then things go to hell. I love the story and encourage you to find the book.

Both Jay Bell’s book and Gann’s break from the ‘formula’ that so many publishers now follow. I’m not very good at those formulas either. My latest book from the Gritt Saga, Robber Barrons, certainly is not a formula story. You know who the bad guys are, or do you? You will meet a very unusual cast of heroes, but until the end, you won’t know who saves the day. And the story will take you from the quiet ocean coves of Alaska’s inside passage to the lights of a Washington DC congressional hearing. Both can be scenes of quiet reflection or shooting galleries. I’m looking forward to your thoughts after reading Robber Barrons, a story that with a few small costume changes and modern buildings could be about the world today. 

Taste Of The Wild: Carmen's Chile Verde

My Latina wife smiled at me a couple of months ago and said simply, "We are not having wild game on New Year's Day. We are going back to my family's cultural tradition, the one you loved when we first met."

I smiled and said something like, "You mean your incredible Chile Verde? I'm in."

This is a great holiday dish. If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, this is the dish Carmen used to hook me.

A note on roasted, peeled, seeded fresh chiles (RPS): As the gringo in the house, RPS is usually my job. Make sure you thoroughly wash your hands and even rinse them in lemon juice—the residue from RPS on your fingers can be excruciatingly painful if you happen to touch your eyes. One small glass of sipping tequila for both the cook and the person preparing the chilies completes the experience.

INGREDIENTS

For the pork:

• 4 lbs. trimmed pork loin, cut into 2" pieces

• 2 tsp. salt

• 1 tsp. black pepper

• Flour for dredging

• ¼ cup vegetable oil

For the base:

• 2 yellow onions, thinly sliced

• 1 Poblano chile, roasted, peeled and seeded (RPS)

• 10 Anaheim chiles (RPS)

• 3 cloves garlic, chopped

For the sauce:

• 1½ lbs. tomatillos, roasted, peeled and chopped (or canned)

• 4 cups chicken stock

• 1 Tbsp. dried oregano

• 2 tsp. ground cumin

• 2 Tbsp. coriander seeds, crushed and dampened

• 2 bay leaves

For serving:

• 1 bunch fresh cilantro, cleaned and chopped

• 1½ cups shredded Monterey Jack cheese

• 1 dozen corn tortillas, warmed on a buttered cast iron skillet

ROASTING, PEELING & SEEDING CHILES (RPS)

Turn on the oven to broil and place fresh chilies on a foil-lined cookie sheet. Slide them under the broiler, close to the flame. Watch carefully, turning chilies as the skins begin to blister. Rearrange the chilies on the sheet to ensure all are cooked evenly. (Try not to blacken them.)

As each chili becomes completely blistered, remove it and place it in a large zip-lock bag. Continue adding until all chilies are in the bag, then seal it. Leave them in the bag until they are cool.

When cool, take each one out and trim off the blistered skin, then split the chili and remove the seeds. Discard the skin and seeds, then shred the chili into approximately two-inch strips, each one-half inch wide.

PREPARATION

Season pork with salt, pepper, and dust with flour. Heat oil in heavy pan and brown pork chunks on all sides, then move to a large soup pot.

Sauté onions in the same skillet until soft, then add chilies and garlic. Sauté for 3 minutes, then add to a large soup pot.

Add tomatillos and all herbs to the soup pot and cover with chicken stock. Bring the contents to a boil, reduce to simmer, and cook for 2 to 3 hours, until pork is fork tender.

Serve in bowls and top with fresh cilantro and shredded Monterey Jack cheese. Serve with warm corn tortillas.

Rodger’s Two Cents: A Writer's Obligation

Each of us views the world through colored lenses. The color depends on our experiences, education, and belief system. This challenges a writer who would like to reach out to all. It is also a cause of conflict and disagreement in both social and public media.

There was a time when, as citizens of the country, by and large all of us shared most values. Until the mid-1800s, the majority believed it was wrong for people to own other people, commanding their work, livelihood, even their lives. But it was legal on a national basis even as some states abolished slavery. National law treated slaves as property and required even those who opposed the practice to return escaped slaves to slave hunters, even in abolitionist states. (Not all abolitionists followed the law; some chose to help escaped slaves, but most chose to follow the law until it could be repealed.)

With the expansion of new states into the West, an agreement was reached to eventually do away with slavery, starting with making it illegal to import new slaves. As the country approached the time when slavery would be illegal nationwide, it dawned on slaveholders that in a blink of an eye, most of their wealth invested in slaves would disappear. The slaveholding states began to drag their feet and oppose the upcoming legal change. A half-million Americans died in the conflict that followed.

Many constitutional scholars agree that all states were obligated to follow the law abolishing slavery, and that under the Constitution, the states that rebelled were legally entitled to leave the union—but not entitled to declare war on the north. It is questionable whether Lincoln had the authority to use force to keep the union together, but he did. Most, even in the South, now agree he made the right decision. The South attacking Fort Sumter justified Lincoln's action.

Which gets me to today. As I watch what is going on in Minneapolis, I see parallels to prior conflicts. Federal law makes it illegal to enter the United States outside of the formal immigration process. Those who are here who ignored that process are not here legally. Federal law also gives the federal government the authority to enforce immigration laws. Many do not agree with those laws, but as of today they have not been able, as the abolitionists were in the early 1800s, to change the law. The difference today is that many who disagree with current law, including state officials, are not willing to accept the law of the land. They feel not only the right to protest actions of the Federal Government, but to disrupt them.

Which gets to my obligation. I write thrillers, with one series that follows an American family throughout our history. Every book is deeply researched. They look at similar conflicts to today and examine how citizens then dealt with them. Most of the time, they followed the law or worked to change it, but some took the law into their own hands, often at great personal cost. As a writer of America’s stories, my obligation is to show history repeating itself and at what cost.

Introducing My Agent: Robert (Bob) G. Diforio

I’ve written a book that is semi-biographical, one that is so personally close that self-publishing would be a mistake. Luckily, I have signed with Robert (Bob) G. Diforio, Founder of D4EO Literary Agency, to help me find a publisher for it.

Bob spent 17 years at New American Library [now an imprint of Penguin Random House] in positions ranging from VP Sales to President and Publisher, Chairman and CEO. There he helped launch the paperback careers of Erica Jong, Robin Cook, Stephen King, Ken Follett, and Robert K. Tanenbaum.

With Odyssey Partners, he led the management team of NAL in a leveraged buy out of the company from Times Mirror in 1982, purchased E. P. Dutton a year later, and sold the combined company to Pearson PLC in 1986, which merged the company with Viking Penguin to create Penguin USA.

Leaving NAL three years later, he opened D4EO Literary Agency in late 1989.

NOATAK CHRISTMAS By Rodger Carlyle

The heavy door shuddered as Wyatt threw his shoulder against it, stumbling into the overheated cabin. He wiped caked snow from his eyebrows and trimmed beard.

“I not hear your machine,” said Agatha, rushing across the tiny room to help her husband from his parka. She hung it on a peg behind the tiny, decorated tree.

"Broke down about a mile from here. Storm hit about an hour after the helicopter took off with Travis. Must be blowin' fifty out there. Thank God it's just spittin' snow and not too cold. Easy walk except for the wind. I can fix the snow machine in the morning."

"How bad was the wreck?" Agatha asked. “The radio don' say when they called us for help. Only says he crashed over on Snowshoe Lake. Two more minutes, he'd a been here.”

“My brother got out before the Cessna burned. He was talkin’ all goofy when I got there, all mixed up about Squirrel's present. Kept talkin’ about a Ruger when I ordered a Winchester. The Army paramedic on the rescue helicopter thinks it's just a concussion. He broke both legs, but they will heal.”

“Can we go tomorrow and salvage any of the supplies? What about mail-order presents?”

“There's just a pile of cinders and melted aluminum.”

Agatha poured a cup of tea and handed it to Wyatt. He pulled a chair over next to the wood stove and began unlacing his boots. He tugged off his canvas pants and hung them next to the tree. “You and Squirrel finished stringing the popcorn. Is Squirrel asleep?”

Agatha retreated to the table and picked up the otter skin parka she had been sewing. She pointed at the loft and smiled. “I'll finish Squirrel's new coat tonight.” Her hands looked tiny holding the long metal needle she used to sew leather. “We got our present. Travis is alive.”

The crackle of burning spruce logs almost masked the howling of the wind outside the log cabin. Wyatt sat, nursing his steaming tea. He mentally took inventory of their supplies. Things would be tight, but they would be okay for a couple of months, plenty of time to get another order on an airplane from Fairbanks. They still had almost six thousand dollars in the old coffee can on the shelf. “I'll order Squirrel another .22 rifle. An eight-year-old boy should learn to shoot. He'll be disappointed that there is nothing under the tree.”

“The village will be serving the Christmas Love Feast tomorrow,” said Agatha. “I wish the ham and rest of dinner had survived.” She refilled her own tea mug. “I’ll bake a moose roast. We’ll use the last of our potatoes. I have canned corn."

Her husband said nothing, just sat rubbing his feet. He glanced at his watch. “It's after midnight. Merry Christmas to the prettiest girl in the Noatak country.” He reached out and squeezed Agatha's hand.

A shy smile and faint flush filled her face. “I guess Santa got lost in the storm, maybe. He probably has to send his presents some other way,’ she added, looking up at the loft. ‘It's time for bed.’

The smell of frying Spam awoke both father and son. “Can we use the radio to see if Santa is really lost?” asked Squirrel. “Maybe he’s looking for Thomas, that's how I signed my letter to him.” The boy ate the last of his pancakes, staring at the tree.

“If he’s lost, he'll have to send his presents some other way,” replied Agatha.

“Maybe the helicopter scared his reindeer but I'm glad that Uncle Travis is okay.” Squirrel excused himself and pulled on his canvas coat then tugged his hat and gloves from the line above the stove. “I'll refill the woodbin.”

He opened the cabin door and tripped over something on the porch and tumbled into the snow. He screamed.

Both mother and father were out the door instantly. There on the ground lay Squirrel. In front of him a roly-poly, long-haired yellow puppy sat staring at him. The dog had a cord around his neck and a tag. “What's the tag say?”  asked a startled Agatha.

Squirrel pulled the puppy into his arms. He looked at the tag. “It says Ruger.”

Wyatt looked out onto the trail. Over the faint impressions of his tracks the night before, tiny feet had followed him from the wreck. Looking up at the clearing sky, he whispered, "thank you."

___

THE NOATAK VALLEY OF ALASKA IS REMOTE, MOUNTAINOUS, AND STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL. THE ISOLATED CABINS OF ITS CITIZENS NOW HAVE SOLAR PANELS AND TWO-WAY RADIOS, BUT FEW OTHER ACCOUTREMENTS OF MODERN URBAN LIFE. MANY LIVE A SUBSISTENCE LIFESTYLE, TRAPPING FURS IN THE WINTER, WHILE SOME OF THE MEN GUIDE OUTSIDE HUNTERS TO ADD CASH INCOME. BASED ON FINANCIAL WEALTH YOU MIGHT THINK OF THEM AS LIVING IN POVERTY, BUT THEY ARE SOME OF THE RICHEST PEOPLE I KNOW. WHILE EVERY VILLAGE NOW HAS A SCHOOL, MANY PEOPLE SPEAK A STRIPPED-DOWN ENGLISH, IGNORING WORDS THAT DO NOT ADD CLARITY. THEY ARE AMONG THE KINDEST AND MOST INDEPENDENT PEOPLE I HAVE EVER MET.

A Taste Of The Wild: German Sauerkraut Soup

This is a very simple recipe for a hearty soup that is perfect on blustery winter days. Each year the crew that I moose hunt with has our butcher not only carve out the best steaks and roasts, grinding some into incredible lean burger, but also take what is left to make a number of amazing sausages. This meal is made up of wild game Polish sausage and vegetables we grow at home.

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:
2 tablespoons vegetable oil 1 pound wild game Polish sausage (smoky Polish from the store will work) 4 celery stalks 4 carrots 2 small yellow onions 6 small to medium Yukon Gold potatoes 1/3 pound bacon 8 cups chicken broth or bouillon 1 quart sauerkraut, drained (we make our own which is sliced thicker than marketed brands) 2 cups white wine 1 can white beans 1 teaspoon each: smoked paprika, marjoram, thyme, basil, and garlic salt, plus salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:
In a slow cooker add the chicken broth, wine, and all spices, and turn on high.

Slice the bacon into ¼-inch pieces and begin to fry in a heavy pan. Chop half of the onion, celery, and carrots into tiny pieces and add to bacon. Fry about eight minutes and then add to slow cooker.

Add the vegetable oil to the same heavy pan. Slice the sausage into ¼-inch rounds and slice the other half of the carrots, celery, and onions into ½-inch pieces and brown for about seven minutes, then add to the slow cooker.

Cut the potatoes into 1-inch pieces and add to the slow cooker. Add the can of white beans and the sauerkraut to the slow cooker.

Cook on high for at least four hours. This goes well with crusty bread. Enjoy!

Rodger's Two Cents: Domestic Violence Awareness

October was Domestic Violence Awareness Month, and this is a subject that will forever be a huge part of me. As a child, I witnessed and was the subject of the kind of violence that leaves you scarred. Even with decades of public testimony, public awareness campaigns, and counseling, we still have people so self-absorbed that they feel it's their right to abuse those they pretend to love. All of us need to be loved and respected, but nobody is owed that engagement. Every day, with those we are close to, we earn it by trying to offer those in our lives more than we receive. After a while, it becomes clear that if you truly love and respect others, nobody is keeping score.

I wrote a book about this more than a decade ago. It has been too personal to share, except with a small handful of close friends and loved ones. But I think the book might just move the needle a degree or two in the right direction, so you can look for it in the near future.

Rodger That: Finding The Right Representation

To all the new writers out there, allow me to offer the most important lesson I've learned about this industry. The lesson was made clear last night when Carmen reminded me of a conversation we had over a light dinner and drinks at Alaska's famous Captain Cook Hotel.

After I quit political writing and turned to fiction, we wondered how long it would take to find the right literary agent to represent my work. I guessed four years; she guessed ten. That was nineteen years ago.

For the next ten years, we followed the traditional path of querying literary agents. Most of those offering their services were exceptionally bright young women with master's degrees in creative writing or literary arts. Many were struggling financially—income is often very thin for new agents. But they were committed to the craft of writing while also being passionate believers in their views of social justice. They wanted to represent books that advanced their beliefs.

I wish I had a dime for every time I heard, "I love the book, but…"

I never found an agent match that worked. So we refocused on learning enough about the industry to self-publish. Since then, we've published eight books. We've developed a following and made a lot of great friends in the business. We've solicited great professional help with editing, publicity, and social media. We've made a lot of mistakes—not in the stories, but in the business of books. We've continued to look for the right literary agent, one who has strong beliefs as we do but who focuses on the story set in the time and place that make it believable. The kind of agent who can teach, coach, and criticize all in the name of a better, more marketable story. The kind of story that grabs you and doesn't let go, even after you finish the book.

This past weekend, nearly two decades later, we were advised that one of the old-pro literary agents is offering to represent one of my books. It's a book that is semi-biographical, one that is so personally close that self-publishing would be a mistake.

More on the agent in a future post, but for today, allow me to emphasize the most important lesson I've learned about this business: Keep on writing and be patient.

Rodger Recommends: Calling Out Mistakes

Every writer makes mistakes. Most are simple spelling or grammatical errors. Even with a top-notch editor, they're almost inevitable. But what I want to address are the mistakes that light up an author's inbox: "The weapon your antagonist carried wasn't even built for 50 more years." "That style of dress was out of date for a century." "The ships couldn't have been carrying coffee up the Thames—the British drank tea."

One of the most noted mistakes came from film, not a book. In the remarkable film Back to the Future, Michael J. Fox's character, Marty McFly, played a 1958 model guitar in a story set in 1955. Critics are still writing articles chastising the film for the mistake. Yet for me, it did nothing to change my opinion—the film was exceptional.

Recently, New York Times bestselling author Sara Poole published the book Poison. Set in 1492, she twice refers to Joan of Arc as Saint Joan of Arc. Her sainthood wasn't honored until 1920. Critics and readers chastised Poole for the mistake, some commenting that it almost made the book unreadable. It was the kind of error any author enthralled with a story and character could make. While I don't know Sara Poole, I'm sure she appreciated that it was "almost" unreadable. It sold well.

Sometimes history is tweaked simply because the real thing is too difficult to explain. The Boston Tea Party is a great example. Book after book tells us that the patriots who dumped thousands of dollars' worth of tea into Boston Harbor were protesting an increase in tea taxes imposed by the British Crown. In reality, the protesters were objecting to the Crown exempting the financially troubled British East India Company from tea taxes, which would have given them a monopoly and destroyed the successful tea trade carried on by American colonial companies. American business owners led the protest. Black market importers of Dutch tea helped organize the uprising. For the public, the price of tea would have been dramatically lower. But when you're trying to gin up a revolution—or write about it centuries later—that's hard to explain. I use this approach and am still waiting for a reader to object.

I write both thrillers and historical fiction, and I work hard to make my stories authentic. I get emails pointing out discrepancies. About half of the criticism is valid. Some, like those noted above, are just wrong. At the time readers were insisting the British only drank tea, over 50 tons of coffee was being imported into England annually. Others, like one writer who pointed out an error in the Havana setting in my book Tempest North, are right. The setting came from a personal observation during a visit to Cuba many years ago—but the actual wharf wasn't built until 50 years after the story's timeline.

While many authors chafe under this type of criticism, I love it. It forces me to dig even deeper than I already do when researching a story. But more importantly, it tells me that readers are seriously engaged with the story—even readers with knowledge of the location, event, or crisis that underpins it. So far, I haven't heard that a mistake made a book unreadable. More often I hear, "The story really hit me, and I wanted to know more, so I did a little research on my own." Knowing a story both entertains and informs is very satisfying.

Keep on criticizing.