Colonel Wilson gave the 4th Virginia a final inspection before Lieutenant Reynolds marched us off to face the enemy. The Colonel's eyes singled me out in the front rank immediately. It wasn't hard. Emerald green around the gills with an exhausted, anxious look in my eye. Lt. Reynolds had been drilling our company all day - "Order Arms, Shoulder Arms, Right Face, March." - and I felt ready to drop before the fight even started. The Colonel must have seen this a thousand times before. He fixed his eyes in mine and smiled slightly. "You ready to see the elephant, private?"
"Yes, sir." My words came out without even thinking.
Colonel Wilson nodded, grinned and continued moving down the front ranks.
-------------------------------------
I arrived at the Confederate camp behind the Lake County Historical Center in Painesville around 7:00PM. Within half an hour, I'd be exchanging my Oxford button-down and Dockers for muslin drawers, wool socks, gray wool pants, checked cotton shirt and cadet-gray kersey. With my Kepi, haversack, canteen and other period-correct accouterments, I now blended into the scenery, able to walk through the camp without the soldiers and civilians instantly marking me as an outsider, or worse yet a "farb." I'd begun my day balancing spreadsheets and emailing commercial documents for international shipments, firmly entrenched in the hustle and bustle of the 21st Century. Now forty five miles and forty-five minutes removed from my day job, I found myself one-hundred-and-fifty years back in time.
I first came up with the backdrop of my new novel, Stalking Mule, two years ago after seeing an episode of Storage Wars. Upon finding some Civil War artifacts in an abandoned storage locker, Jarrod visited some reenactors to price his haul. Suddenly, in my mind's eye, I saw history buff Chris Telamon, the quintessential 21st-century everyman, being forced to solve a mystery at a Civil War reenactment using only what would be available to someone in the 1860s. That was all I had, just that single simple idea. So a few days later, I started writing the sequel to Cat & Cat just to see what my next book would actually be about.
Three-hundred-plus pages later, after revisiting the Telamon family, Wormwood, Manny, Ryan Leach and introducing a whole new cast of characters, I've finally come to the pivotal scene, the big battle. Problem is even after digesting countless books & articles about the Civil War and reenacting, visiting reenactments and interviewing reenactors, I was still missing the real story. All along I've known the inevitable. I'd never really own Stalking Mule until I actually put on a uniform and lived the reality of living history. With the encouragement of Lieutenant Phil Reynolds of the 4th Virginia, I finally bit the bullet this weekend and enlisted in the Confederate Army for an exhausting, exhilarating and ultimately eye-opening experience.
I'm so tempted right now to transfer every detail from the last two days into this blog post. But I won't. The sights, sounds, smells and sensations of The Battle of Painesville must be ruminated upon and ultimately recreated in the pages of Stalking Mule. I can share some snatches and rebel yell outs, however.
1) My ever-lasting gratitude to the aforementioned Lieutenant Phil Reynolds, drill master, raconteur, and a man who has forgotten more about the Civil War and the life of the Confederate soldier than I'll ever know.
2) My humble thanks to Colonel Skip Wilson, Captain Wayne Unger, Mike Lawson, the two Tonys, Andy, Bob, Brandon and everyone else in the 4th Virginia for hauling my green ass through two of the hardest, yet most rewarding days of my life.
3) Coming to the realization after five minutes of drilling that a) I am out of shape & b) a 10 lb. musket is f---ing HEAVY.
4) Twisting my ankle with a loaded weapon while marching into position BEFORE the fighting even began. Yeah, I know it's just gunpowder and a percussion cap, but it was still scary as hell. The adrenaline ended up blocking out the pain about a minute later, and I stayed on my feet for forty-five agonizing minutes.
5) Trying to load my Enfield behind a tree with Yankees advancing on our flank and Captain Unger yelling "Load, Private. LOAD. They are upon us. LOAD your ----- weapon."
6) Asking Lt. Reynolds for "permission to die" after about fifteen minutes of fighting through treacherous ground, prickers and blazing sunlight. "Permission denied, private."
7) Cleaning my musket after the battle, every muscle, bone & joint ACHING, and simply being in the moment.
If you want to know the rest, you'll just have to read the book.
VIRGINIA!
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
In Praise of Mothers
First things first - to my mom; my wife; my late mother-in-law; my cousins - Lisa, Laura & Jennifer; my sisters-in-law - Pam, Janine & Laurie; and my niece-in-law Abby --- HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!
-------------------------------------------------------------
In Cat & Cat, Chris Telamon talks a lot about his father, Lenny, and Lenny's subsequent influence on his life, not only in terms of musical taste but his entire worldview. Through Lenny’s example, Chris grows up to internalize the qualities of paternal responsibility and a predilection towards the epicurean in life. Chris Telamon isn't just his father’s son, however, and neither is the writer who created his universe.
In my forthcoming novel, Stalking Mule, the other side of Chris Telamon's parentage is explored in depth, and we learn quite a bit more about what drives Chris Telamon's rigid and, at times, uncompromising sense of justice and fair play. Needless to say, just as Lenny Telamon is somewhat modeled on my dad, Larry Kozak, the character of Corinne Telamon, Chris' mom, is also patterned on the life and times of my own beloved and "long suffering" mom. So, in honor of Mother's Day, I'd like to do what every child is doing today and talk about my mom, Irene Kozak.
Whereas my dad inspired and nurtured my love of music, good food and the Three Stooges, my mom's insistence that I always do my best, think of others and never compromise my principles provided the bedrock that allows me to enjoy myself without harming others. From my mom I inherited a thirst -- no, rather make that an obsession -- with moral clarity. Even as a small child, I was adamant about not only knowing what was right, but why it was right. Consequently, the issue of fairness became my constant preoccupation. So to everyone I've ever infuriated with my incessant need to examine the moral implications of every decision I make, now you know why. Throughout my life, family members constantly point out that my temperament falls more in line with my mother’s side of the family than my father’s side. I've always taken this as a compliment. What some may call impatience I deem forthrightness. Although I may be prone to flights of indignation, they tend to be of the righteous variety, not self-righteous.
My mom grew up a PK. For those of you not familiar with 20th century acronyms, PK stands for Preacher’s Kid. PKs, like Army Brats, live in a kind of parallel universe alongside the children of lay or civilian folk. My mother once described growing up a PK as living in a fishbowl. Every eye studies you, expecting you to be perfect, and then delighting when you fall. Some PKs “act out” against their parents’ authority and society’s expectations. Other PKs embrace their identities and follow in their parents’ footsteps. Much to her credit (and often to her dismay I’m sure), my mom zealously pursued the latter option.
My grandfather, the late Reverend Huber F. Klemme, wasn't exactly your typical American preacher. From the onset of his ministry, he used his pulpit to address quite a number of controversial causes. Throughout the 50-plus years of his ministry, my grandfather remained deeply and unequivocally committed to the core principals of the Social Gospel movement: civil rights, social justice, world peace, and economic equality. Given the political climate in our nation during the ‘30s, ‘40s, ‘50s & ‘60s, his unyielding stance invariably set him face-first against our culture’s prevailing winds.
During the 1930s, amid the first Red Scare, my grandfather proudly declared himself a socialist. My mother, a grade-schooler at the time, found herself in quite a bit of trouble when she informed her teacher that her household supported Norman Thomas for president over FDR. A short time later, my grandfather’s pacifist philosophy prompted him to counsel Conscientious Objectors during World War II. (Think about that for a moment-- not the Vietnam War or even the Korean War, but WWII.) In the 1940s & ‘50s, he zealously advocated for civil rights and the abolishment of Jim Crow, long before public sympathy got swept up into the monumental social upheavals of the 1960s. My grandfather’s recognition of racial injustice and African American Achievement certainly rubbed off on my mother. Once, when another grade school teacher asked my mother to name a famous scientist, she responded with George Washington Carver. Obviously, the teacher wasn't impressed, as she snidely dismissed Carver as “just an old nigger.” (Can you even imagine a public school teacher saying anything like that today?)
As a teenager and college student, my mom proudly followed her father’s example, becoming active in a wide variety of social and religious causes. After graduating from Heidelberg College, she taught in the Cleveland schools for a few years before marrying my father and starting a family. Understandably, my mom was strict with my brothers, sister, and me. She suffered neither fools nor brats gladly. Each and every time I was punished, however, I not only learned what I’d done wrong but why it was wrong.
In retrospect, I think those hard object lessons probably spoiled me. From childhood on, I've always looked for the same clarity and consistency among the legion of authority figures I've encountered in life: teachers, bosses, policemen, elected officials. Needless to say, I'm constantly disappointed and troubled in this regard. Perhaps this sense of anomie, more than anything else, explains why I write the world the way I do. Both Cat & Cat and Stalking Mule revolve around the central questions of right vs. wrong, idealism vs. pragmatism, selflessness vs. expediency, the needs of the many vs. the needs of the few. Chris Telamon and Ryan "Snake Eyes" Leach fight these battles in the trenches every day while the character of Wormwood and his Zoroastrian worldview passes judgment on every human being engaged in the epic War of Light & Darkness.
When I finished Cat & Cat and presented my parents with a printed copy of the unedited draft, I really wasn't sure my mom would like the novel. Her tastes run more to Murder She Wrote than Natural Born Killers. Then again, she also reads James Patterson and watches Criminal Minds, so I was fairly confident nothing I wrote would truly shock her. I was also quite sure she'd immediately recognize the foundation upon which I'd built my plot. It was the same fundamental, tripartite question she'd first introduced to me when I was still in diapers: What is Right? What is Wrong? And Why?
-------------------------------------------------------------
In Cat & Cat, Chris Telamon talks a lot about his father, Lenny, and Lenny's subsequent influence on his life, not only in terms of musical taste but his entire worldview. Through Lenny’s example, Chris grows up to internalize the qualities of paternal responsibility and a predilection towards the epicurean in life. Chris Telamon isn't just his father’s son, however, and neither is the writer who created his universe.
In my forthcoming novel, Stalking Mule, the other side of Chris Telamon's parentage is explored in depth, and we learn quite a bit more about what drives Chris Telamon's rigid and, at times, uncompromising sense of justice and fair play. Needless to say, just as Lenny Telamon is somewhat modeled on my dad, Larry Kozak, the character of Corinne Telamon, Chris' mom, is also patterned on the life and times of my own beloved and "long suffering" mom. So, in honor of Mother's Day, I'd like to do what every child is doing today and talk about my mom, Irene Kozak.
Whereas my dad inspired and nurtured my love of music, good food and the Three Stooges, my mom's insistence that I always do my best, think of others and never compromise my principles provided the bedrock that allows me to enjoy myself without harming others. From my mom I inherited a thirst -- no, rather make that an obsession -- with moral clarity. Even as a small child, I was adamant about not only knowing what was right, but why it was right. Consequently, the issue of fairness became my constant preoccupation. So to everyone I've ever infuriated with my incessant need to examine the moral implications of every decision I make, now you know why. Throughout my life, family members constantly point out that my temperament falls more in line with my mother’s side of the family than my father’s side. I've always taken this as a compliment. What some may call impatience I deem forthrightness. Although I may be prone to flights of indignation, they tend to be of the righteous variety, not self-righteous.
My mom grew up a PK. For those of you not familiar with 20th century acronyms, PK stands for Preacher’s Kid. PKs, like Army Brats, live in a kind of parallel universe alongside the children of lay or civilian folk. My mother once described growing up a PK as living in a fishbowl. Every eye studies you, expecting you to be perfect, and then delighting when you fall. Some PKs “act out” against their parents’ authority and society’s expectations. Other PKs embrace their identities and follow in their parents’ footsteps. Much to her credit (and often to her dismay I’m sure), my mom zealously pursued the latter option.
My grandfather, the late Reverend Huber F. Klemme, wasn't exactly your typical American preacher. From the onset of his ministry, he used his pulpit to address quite a number of controversial causes. Throughout the 50-plus years of his ministry, my grandfather remained deeply and unequivocally committed to the core principals of the Social Gospel movement: civil rights, social justice, world peace, and economic equality. Given the political climate in our nation during the ‘30s, ‘40s, ‘50s & ‘60s, his unyielding stance invariably set him face-first against our culture’s prevailing winds.
During the 1930s, amid the first Red Scare, my grandfather proudly declared himself a socialist. My mother, a grade-schooler at the time, found herself in quite a bit of trouble when she informed her teacher that her household supported Norman Thomas for president over FDR. A short time later, my grandfather’s pacifist philosophy prompted him to counsel Conscientious Objectors during World War II. (Think about that for a moment-- not the Vietnam War or even the Korean War, but WWII.) In the 1940s & ‘50s, he zealously advocated for civil rights and the abolishment of Jim Crow, long before public sympathy got swept up into the monumental social upheavals of the 1960s. My grandfather’s recognition of racial injustice and African American Achievement certainly rubbed off on my mother. Once, when another grade school teacher asked my mother to name a famous scientist, she responded with George Washington Carver. Obviously, the teacher wasn't impressed, as she snidely dismissed Carver as “just an old nigger.” (Can you even imagine a public school teacher saying anything like that today?)
As a teenager and college student, my mom proudly followed her father’s example, becoming active in a wide variety of social and religious causes. After graduating from Heidelberg College, she taught in the Cleveland schools for a few years before marrying my father and starting a family. Understandably, my mom was strict with my brothers, sister, and me. She suffered neither fools nor brats gladly. Each and every time I was punished, however, I not only learned what I’d done wrong but why it was wrong.
In retrospect, I think those hard object lessons probably spoiled me. From childhood on, I've always looked for the same clarity and consistency among the legion of authority figures I've encountered in life: teachers, bosses, policemen, elected officials. Needless to say, I'm constantly disappointed and troubled in this regard. Perhaps this sense of anomie, more than anything else, explains why I write the world the way I do. Both Cat & Cat and Stalking Mule revolve around the central questions of right vs. wrong, idealism vs. pragmatism, selflessness vs. expediency, the needs of the many vs. the needs of the few. Chris Telamon and Ryan "Snake Eyes" Leach fight these battles in the trenches every day while the character of Wormwood and his Zoroastrian worldview passes judgment on every human being engaged in the epic War of Light & Darkness.
When I finished Cat & Cat and presented my parents with a printed copy of the unedited draft, I really wasn't sure my mom would like the novel. Her tastes run more to Murder She Wrote than Natural Born Killers. Then again, she also reads James Patterson and watches Criminal Minds, so I was fairly confident nothing I wrote would truly shock her. I was also quite sure she'd immediately recognize the foundation upon which I'd built my plot. It was the same fundamental, tripartite question she'd first introduced to me when I was still in diapers: What is Right? What is Wrong? And Why?
Saturday, May 10, 2014
To Hard Copy or Not To Hard Copy?
I'm the first one to admit it. I hate change. I resist it. I complain about it, and in many instances I even refuse to acknowledge it's reality. I inherited this stubbornness from my dad, who still gives the first three digits of his home phone number as SPRING-7 while regularly referring to such Cleveland landmarks as "The High-Level Bridge" and "City Hospital." I carry on the tradition by telling people I'm going to Jacob's Field or the Gund. When CDs came out, I continued buying vinyl. When DVDs arose, I kept hunting for stuff on VHS. Smart phones? I'll just stick with my flip phone, thank you very much. As for ebooks, I scoffed at the very notion when they first appeared. I remember telling a coworker at Borders that hard copy books were like incandescent light bulbs. Both represented the ultimate pinnacles of human ingenuity. I insisted no matter what comes next, real books and real light bulbs would NEVER be replaced.
Now it's some twenty years later, and the federal government has banned real light bulbs, and I just published my first novel as an ebook, eschewing paper and ink in favor of virtual pages. So what the hell happened to me? Well, a few things.
For one, I got a Kindle a few Christmases ago from my wife, and I found that I actually liked the format. All those books on one reader. No more lugging five books into the coffee shop when I can't decide what I'm in the mood to read. Yes, I still go the library constantly, and I still check out real books. However, this ritual mostly stems from the habit of going to the library. All those hard copies are right there in front of me -- so easy to browse, so easy to check out. The process of downloading library ebooks to my Kindle is still more complicated than simply walking up to a desk, handing a librarian my selection and checking it out. Once the logistics of borrowing library ebooks gets streamlined, I may just forego hard copy books altogether.
Which brings me to the actual point of today's missive. For every person I meet who seems thrilled that Cat & Cat is conveniently available as an ebook on all the major platforms, I meet five other persons who unabashedly ask me if I have any real books to sell? By real, of course, they mean hard copies, and when I inform them that the book is only available in e-form I'm always assured that they'll buy a copy when the real book comes out.
I'm not angered by this reaction, mind you. I mean I'm the guy who refuses to send text messages, use a GPS or get an I-Pod. So I get it! Believe me. If my wife hadn't kicked my ass into the 21st century with that Kindle two years ago, I would have sunk all my savings into printing up real copies of Cat & Cat when I finished the book. In fact, printing hard copies of my first novel is still preeminent in my future plans. But real books cost real money to produce, and until I scrape together enough disposable income to invest in hard copies I guess the world will just have to get along with the ebook version of Cat & Cat. Call me a rosy-eyes Pollyanna if you must, but I think we'll all manage to muddle through somehow.
Now it's some twenty years later, and the federal government has banned real light bulbs, and I just published my first novel as an ebook, eschewing paper and ink in favor of virtual pages. So what the hell happened to me? Well, a few things.
For one, I got a Kindle a few Christmases ago from my wife, and I found that I actually liked the format. All those books on one reader. No more lugging five books into the coffee shop when I can't decide what I'm in the mood to read. Yes, I still go the library constantly, and I still check out real books. However, this ritual mostly stems from the habit of going to the library. All those hard copies are right there in front of me -- so easy to browse, so easy to check out. The process of downloading library ebooks to my Kindle is still more complicated than simply walking up to a desk, handing a librarian my selection and checking it out. Once the logistics of borrowing library ebooks gets streamlined, I may just forego hard copy books altogether.
Which brings me to the actual point of today's missive. For every person I meet who seems thrilled that Cat & Cat is conveniently available as an ebook on all the major platforms, I meet five other persons who unabashedly ask me if I have any real books to sell? By real, of course, they mean hard copies, and when I inform them that the book is only available in e-form I'm always assured that they'll buy a copy when the real book comes out.
I'm not angered by this reaction, mind you. I mean I'm the guy who refuses to send text messages, use a GPS or get an I-Pod. So I get it! Believe me. If my wife hadn't kicked my ass into the 21st century with that Kindle two years ago, I would have sunk all my savings into printing up real copies of Cat & Cat when I finished the book. In fact, printing hard copies of my first novel is still preeminent in my future plans. But real books cost real money to produce, and until I scrape together enough disposable income to invest in hard copies I guess the world will just have to get along with the ebook version of Cat & Cat. Call me a rosy-eyes Pollyanna if you must, but I think we'll all manage to muddle through somehow.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
The Dogs of Reenactment
I'm finally taking the plunge. After a couple years researching my forthcoming novel, Stalking Mule, I've finally decided to see what Civil War reenacting is like from the inside. I'll be at Hale Farm next weekend for my first taste of life as a 19th-century soldier. If you come out, I won't be hard to spot. I'll be the one marching the wrong way ;) I'll have some pics from the event up on my new website, which will be unveiled soon.
Special and personal thanks to Phil Reynolds from Talmadge for all the encouragement, information and stories he's given me over the years. I just hope I can make it for two days without my laptop and cell phone.
MK
Special and personal thanks to Phil Reynolds from Talmadge for all the encouragement, information and stories he's given me over the years. I just hope I can make it for two days without my laptop and cell phone.
MK
Sunday, May 4, 2014
The .. ughh .. Business of Writing
The last few days has been a maelstrom of activity related to Cat & Cat. On Friday morning, the reformatted version was finally vetted and published at Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/427306 . I then spent Friday evening & Saturday working with my tireless tech guru, Mike Hamilton, on a bunch of boring particulars - PayPal accounts, creating ebook coupons, web-hosting & web design, republishing the "clean" version on Amazon ( http://www.amazon.com/Cat-Novel-Three-Movements-ebook/dp/B00JAQXIUE ), posting on Facebook, Twitter, Linked-In and here. So I wake up at 3:30AM today and immediately go to Amazon & Smashwords to check sales & downloads and investigate some new publicity/promotion options, and while downing my fourth cup of coffee I suddenly realize I haven't done a LICK of real writing in the last few weeks. And I'm just a novice at all this. I mean what the h--- will I do if I ever actually sell a lot of copies?
I have a friend, Erin. She's a talented young writer. Fresh out of the MFA Program at Kent State. Erin is where I was 25 years ago. Like me, she opted out of the Ivory Tower and is now grinding in the 9-5 world. I love talking to her because she's fresh out of grad school and overflowing with the kind of cynical idealism that once fueled me. She also loathes the very idea of self-promotion. When you're in college and in a writing program, you stand on the merits of what you produce. Not what you can sell. Every week or two, you read a selection of what you produced aloud to a group of your peers and your professor. If it sucks, they will let you know. If it's good, you'll get some support. No one SELLS what they write. If they even tried, they'd be tarred & feathered, drawn & quartered and run out of the program on a rail.
I know there must be good writers who don't mind and maybe even enjoy selling themselves. They're in the definite minority, however. Most who apply themselves to the craft abhor self-promotion, and cringe at the very notion that writing is a business. Unfortunately, it is. Even if you're just an unknown, fifty-year-old, 9-5 desk-job drone trying to jump-start a career as a novelist. That's why any writer enjoying a modicum of success quickly takes on a lawyer, an agent and a publicist. It's not that writers can't be salesmen or business women. It's just that .. well frankly .. all that grown-up stuff sucks.
I have a friend, Erin. She's a talented young writer. Fresh out of the MFA Program at Kent State. Erin is where I was 25 years ago. Like me, she opted out of the Ivory Tower and is now grinding in the 9-5 world. I love talking to her because she's fresh out of grad school and overflowing with the kind of cynical idealism that once fueled me. She also loathes the very idea of self-promotion. When you're in college and in a writing program, you stand on the merits of what you produce. Not what you can sell. Every week or two, you read a selection of what you produced aloud to a group of your peers and your professor. If it sucks, they will let you know. If it's good, you'll get some support. No one SELLS what they write. If they even tried, they'd be tarred & feathered, drawn & quartered and run out of the program on a rail.
I know there must be good writers who don't mind and maybe even enjoy selling themselves. They're in the definite minority, however. Most who apply themselves to the craft abhor self-promotion, and cringe at the very notion that writing is a business. Unfortunately, it is. Even if you're just an unknown, fifty-year-old, 9-5 desk-job drone trying to jump-start a career as a novelist. That's why any writer enjoying a modicum of success quickly takes on a lawyer, an agent and a publicist. It's not that writers can't be salesmen or business women. It's just that .. well frankly .. all that grown-up stuff sucks.
REFORMATTED Cat & Cat now available on Amazon
Amazon now has the reformatted version of Cat & Cat available. If anyone bought the original Amazon Kindle version with the format glitches, please message me, and I will send you a free reformatted e-copy: http://www.amazon.com/Cat-Novel-Three-Movements-ebook/dp/B00JAQXIUE
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Mark Kozak - The Interview
On a whim, I decided to complete an interview for Smashwords.com. It was actually kind of fun. The results are now here on my Smashwords profile: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/mek378 . If anyone has any other questions, go right ahead. I'm an open book.
Cat & Cat now available on Smashwords in various ebook formats
After a lot of hard work by my new tech guru, Mike Hamilton, Cat & Cat is finally reformatted, glitch free and available on Smashwords, Amazon and number of other ebook retailers in pretty much every format: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/427306.
Buy the book on Smashwords and use coupon code YX77A, and you'll get 50% off the $4.99 price.
This now concludes my shameless plug.
MK
Buy the book on Smashwords and use coupon code YX77A, and you'll get 50% off the $4.99 price.
This now concludes my shameless plug.
MK
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