Update on , Brothers, progress.

I've finished my rough draft of "Brothers, Tales of the River Rats" and have sent it out to several readers to see how it flows for them.  When I do that I always expect suggestions for plot changes, grammatical and typo catches, and general feedback.  It gives me a better idea and different perspective when evaluating my writing.  It has become an essential part of my writing process.

I have also contacted the young lady who designed my last book cover and am patiently waiting for what she comes up with.  I've given her my ideas of what I thought would work and she will take that and run.

I could be ready to go to print by April, but will see how much revision I might want to take on.  The other factor will be to gauge the interest from agents or traditional publishers that may be out there.  I plan to send out some query letters within a few weeks, or whenever I am confident enough in the first five chapters or so.

The interesting aspect of this book is that it is such a blend of real events that took place in my youth and the fictional plot I've built around those events, including my parents' backgrounds.
I've shared several of the youthful adventures with my siblings and mother to get their take on accuracy and readability and have been gratified by their feedback.

My mother, especially has been a great resource for her early life and knowledg of the areas I describe in the book.  Her help has allowed me to be as authentic as possible.

Kellan's story

Kellan began cutting his fingernails and then brought up a little story about how he and Jack had used to gather cigarette butts from the road in front of their house.  “Remember how we’d get up early and say we were going hunting for golf balls in the ditch in front of our place and then along the back nine of the golf course?” he asked.  

Jack nodded, sporting a tiny grin that also showed off the crows feet around his eyes.

“But we’d really just be looking for butts to smoke later.”  He was smiling now, very amused by the memory.  “Do you remember when we found a couple dozen butts, took them in back of the old house where we used to burn the trash, smoked them, and then Mr. Klipper caught us?”

Jack began laughing at that scene.  “Yeah, I remember he ratted us out to Mom and Dad, and then Dad lined us up in the living room where he had brought a one by three board that was eight feet long.  I seem to remember we blamed Sydney for the whole thing, saying it was all her idea, so Dad lined her up with us, which she protested so much about it that we wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.  Then he laid one smack on us all at the same time, and I remember thinking I could barely feel it, but I didn’t want to say anything because then he would have made it hurt.”

“Yeah, that was rich,” Kellan said.  “But you left out the part where Mr. Klipper asked us what the hell we were doing back there, and you just took a puff off your butt and said proudly, we’re smoking.” 

“Oh, god, yeah, I do remember that.  Remember he never said anything but just looked at us kind of funny and then left?  I’ll bet he walked around the house and started laughing to himself all the way to tell Mom and Dad.  I’ll bet they all got the biggest laugh out of that whole thing.”

Isle Royale memory from, Brothers, Tales of the River Rats

“What about our Isle Royale trip?  That was our longest hike.  We walked forty-three miles from one end of the island to the other.  Started out at Rockport on the eastern tip and hiked the Greenstone Ridge down the middle of the island for the entire length down to Windigo, a little settlement at the western tip of the island.” 

“The whole island is like a washboard with ridges running most of the length of the island.  The main ridge is the Greenstone.  It’s an up and down affair with switchbacks taking you to the higher points that are  about seven-hundred feet above the lake, but it’s enough to wear you out in a day of hiking, especially when you’re carrying a forty pound pack .”

“Hey, remember when we ran into those two young guys carrying gigantic backpacks?” asked Kellan.  Jack laughed at the vision the two had presented.  The two young men’s eyes had been glazed over as Jack and Kellan stopped and talked to them.  Perspiration ran from every sweat gland in their bodies, drenching them as if they had been swimming.  They didn’t say a word or appear to comprehend anything said to them.  Exhaustion seeped from every pore of their bodies.  

Five minutes after everyone had moved on, young men to the east, Jack and Kellan to the west, two, attractive twenty year olds in bikinis pranced on the trail toward the brothers, picking flowers and marveling at all the beauty of the forest.  They were not carrying packs and appeared to have nary a care in the world.  They were uninhibited, bubbly, and as unaware of their boyfriends’ agony as anyone could be as they spoke to the brothers. 

As Kellan and Jack admired the young women skipping away from them, they laughed quietly, thinking that the young men would not be in any shape for extracurricular activities that evening.

“We took our time on the first three days, never traveling more than five or six miles.  We’d hike off the main trail down to a lake and make camp for the evening and then move on the next morning.  The last day we hiked twenty miles to Windigo where we pretty much collapsed in exhaustion.  Lucky for us that some of the men that worked on the island had been fishing for lake trout and offered us some back at their cabins.  It seemed like the grilled trout was the sweetest tasting meal we had ever had.”  Kellan gazed wistfully up at the stars when he had finished talking.  It was clear, that trip had been one of his fondest.

On the hunt

For sure, they’d make better time without Gabe slowing them down, but how could they leave their brother, especially after he’d always been there for them?  How?  He wrestled with his conflicting emotions until he finally took a stand.  They would not leave him.

“We’re not going anywhere without you, Gabe,” Jack said quietly.  “Deal with it.”

For a moment, it looked as if Gabe was going to cut loose a cacophony of epithets and insults, but his face calmed and he finally said, “River rats, that’s what we are.”  He smiled.  The warmth he felt toward his brothers had never filled his heart more than at that moment in the woods.

  Kellan spoke, “Let’s use the rest of the hour they gave us and get ready for them.  They’re gonna rue the day they messed with the Hulas.”  

Angus checked his watch, “It’s been an hour, Billy.”
Billy had been sitting on rocks near the shoreline, chewing on a stem of grass and watching two loons as they surfaced and then dove for their early evening meal.  It was seven pm and there would be two more hours of daylight in the northern sky and with any luck they would have the light from a three-quarter moon after that.

The mosquitoes were tolerable, probably because of the end of the latest hatch, and it was if the biting flies had already called it a day and turned in for the evening.  

“Billy, Billy!” Angus almost shouted his name.

He turned and stared at Angus.  “Jesus Christ, Angus, you don’t have to shout.  I’m right here.”

“You didn’t act like you heard me, though, and you told them an hour.  I figured you’d want to get going right on time.”  

Billy fiddled with the stem of grass as he returned his gaze to the lake and the loons.  “There’s no big hurry, we’ll catch ‘em.”  A few more minutes passed as Angus appeared anxious to ask Billy a question.

At the risk of interrupting Billy’s contemplation, Angus finally asked, “You didn’t really mean we’d kill ‘em, when you said it, did you, Billy?”  His eyes were pleading for his friend to say no.

Billy noticed the concern in Angus’s voice and saw the dread in his eyes when he asked.  “How long you known me, Angus?”

“Six years, give or take.”

“Have I killed anyone?”

Angus appeared to be thinking.  “Not… that I know of,” he said with a degree of hesitation and fear in his voice.  Billy was pleased by the hint of fear.  That made him feel powerful and in control.

“Well, I’ve never killed anyone, Angus, and I don’t plan on starting tonight.  When I said that, I just wanted to put some fear into those guys, especially the fat one who crushed my nuts.”  He looked directly into Angus’s eyes, “Know what I mean?”

Angus dropped his gaze.  “I…guess so.”

Billy retrieved a flask from a pocket in his jacket, unscrewed the cap and downed a slug.  He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and then held the flask out to Angus.  “Take a swig, Angus.”  Reluctantly, Angus took it and tossed a swallow down his throat.