Back To War by C.G. Cooper

I was a sergeant in the Army Rangers. 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. Part of U.S. Army Special Operations Command. Our unit, among other things, provided support for Delta Force missions and Special Forces. I was a hair's breath away from becoming a Staff Sergeant. Had I re-enlisted for just two more years I would have been and my life would have been much much different.

I mention all of this because C.G. Cooper, a former Marine Staff Sergeant has written a book, Back to War. That was incredibly compelling and fun to read, with some slight GI Joe-ish fantasy, and some of the most realistic descriptions of combat that I've ever read. I'd expect nothing less from a former Marine.

All in all, I was disappointed the moment the bat cave was found and the secret consulting group that was modeled straight after GI Joe came into play. I thought it was going to get too fanciful, too silly, too ridiculous.

Thankfully, the former Marine pulled it off. It had it's fanciful moments but all told it was well done enough to keep my interest. What I liked most was that the characters were real and their tactics were exactly the same things I experienced as a Ranger. No Supermen. No real heroes. They were just good guys doing their best. Perfect way to compliment some outlandishness . . . add verisimilitude every where else.

As you'll find out when I post about the last line (soon), he loses me with his final epilogue as well . . . Cooper's surprised me and pulled it off once, who's to say he can't do it again.

Constancy Vs Consistency

I heard from and saw my old friend again this week. Couple morning's ago and there she is. She reminded me of the importance of consistency. Not constancy, but consistency.

She may not be a constant friend, in fact the most I see her is once every few months, but it's consistent like that. I can count on seeing or hearing from her once every six to eight weeks. I can count on seeing her whenever I workout with my group. She's very consistent like that. She is steadfast and I know what to expect and she delivers without fail.

This is what great friends produce, consistency. You come to expect the same thing from them and they deliver. We had a guy named Baldwin in our unit who you could never count on. The entire time in the Army as a private you are constantly proving yourself. Why? Because you want to establish trust between yourself and your leaders and your squad. It's that trust that develops over time and you can build on.

Baldwin not only failed to develop that trust fully, but he undermined the trust completely. So we cut him away. In airborne operations there is one thing you never want to be, a dragged jumper. Exiting the door is one of the more dangerous moments of the jump. It's at the door that anything can happy. A piece of your uniform can get snagged, a loop of your static line could get caught, anything. When that happens you become a dragged jumper. The only thing you can do as the jump master is cut that person away. That's what we did to Baldwin. Once he undermined his squad's and his platoon's trust to a point where he could no longer be trusted, we had to cut him away. It was his lack of consistency that lead to his being cut away.

What's this have to do with writing? Well, you'll remember I'm in the midst of some character development. It's fun to take qualities that are irksome in real life, or even admirable and take them to the next level (more on that in a future post).

Calvin Coolidge wrote about persistence (see my post on it HERE). Consistency is just as important in my view. I've been writing consistently for over a week now and it's great to see progress on so many fronts. It's that consistency that helps us achieve, not constancy. Constancy can give out and fail. Consistency is the value that we should strive for. Roller coasters are fun, but not if they go on indefinitely.

It's obvious that in my life, as proven by seeing this old friend, that I value that consistency more than constancy. In writing too that seems to be the best to achieve results.

Stunning Silence

Lately I've been stunned by silence. It calls to mind a scene from John Adams with Paul Giamatti.

I was a histroy major, but for some reason I just can't stomach the history of the American Revolution. It just doesn't appeal to me. The John Adam's mini-series is the exception. One thing I love about the mini-series is that it shows the day in the life so well. I genuinely think that life back then was cold and miserable and slow. Every turn of the camera, every slice of life, convinces me that I would have hated to live back then.

Nevertheless, there is a moment in the series where John Adams, played by Paul Giamatti, and Abigail Adams, played by Laura Linney, share a not so secret understanding.

The show does an impeccable job of showing the strength of John and Abigail's love. There are many touching moments that come across perfectly thanks to these two actors. But there was one scene where John is considering a new job offer while they're seated at the dinner table, and remains silent for a long time. Abigail leans forward to him and says:

 "Qui tacet consentire"

I was a latin student in middle school and in high school so when my wife asked, "What'd she say?" I incorrectly (but almost) translated the phrase as "he who is quiet consents."

The actual translation is - qui tacet consentire videtur, "he who is silent is taken to agree" or "silence implies/means consent." Little did I know that this is a common phrase in international agreements and negotiations. In that scene it was a compelling moment and there was a lot said in that moment by the two actors.

Like I said, silence is ringing around me now, and has been for three years or so, and it tells me alot. I hope that one day I can write a couple of characters like John and Abigail and include that much speaking into non speaking moments.

Morning's in Novels

Even more than my "First Lines" string of posts (see HERE) and my "Last Lines" string (HERE), my favorite posts are those that focus on quotes about Mornings (HERE).

Take a look. It's like suddenly seeing "Orange and Blue" in movie posters. Once someone tells you to look for quotes about the morning in novels, you'll see them everywhere and in every book. Dawn's are described as "slow" and "lumbering." The morning sky is the color of pearl. It's stunning how often authors like to discuss mornings.

Louis L'Amour is no different.

In  Reilly's Luck, Louis L'Amour has the mention of the word "morning" thirty-three times in this little book. But the quote that stood out is:

The sun came gingerly over the mountains, and the sky and the ranch yard were pale yellow. Pete looked at the mountains for smoke, but saw none.

L'Amour, Louis - Reilly's Luck

Gingers and pale yellow. The sun moved "gingerly" and Pete looks for smoke on the mountains. Not a huge, interesting morning quote, but also not nothing.

Go take a look, you'll see it everywhere now.

Important First Lines

Although it didn't start as such, my favorite thread for this blog is my "first lines" thread (see HERE).

Why?

Prior to starting this blog I always thought that first lines were played up way too much. Now, having catalouged so many, I think they have just as much importance as they need.

So to continue this thread, I offer the one I've read most recently, from Back to War by C.G. Cooper.

The gang members stayed hidden as they watched the young couple from the third story window of the parking garage a block away. The couple was blissfully unaware of the five observers. Why should they worry? They were in the middle of the busy downtown nightlife. Police were present as usual and the crowd flowed smoothly along the packed sidewalks. The tallest of the gang was a thirty-something Black man named Dante. He had a short Mohawk cut and a pencil-thin goatee looked down at his latest recruit. 

“You ready to do this thing?” 

The young recruit looked no more than fifteen. His hazel green eyes starkly contrasted with his three-inch afro. He wore an oversized t-shirt with the New Orleans Saints logo plastered from front to back. His huge jeans were sagging and obviously way too big for his skinny frame. He looked like the prototype wannabe gangster. They called him Shorty. 

“Yeah. I’m ready.” 

Cooper, C. G.. -  Back to War (Corps Justice Book 1)

I'm only reading this book because for personal reasons we are limiting our family to less expensive books. I wanted to read a book by WEB Griffith. They were upwards of 8 bucks per book. C.G. Cooper is a discount at just two bucks.

From the first line, it's probably a good value. It's not a bad first line. It grabs a reader, it's an obvious set up for what's to come, and it's descriptive enough to be worthwhile, but fast enough to keep the interest.

I'll give it to C.G. on this one. It's a decent to good first line. 8 out of 10.

1W

Airport Stories

One thing I do know for sure, my writing and my travel are directly related. I have written about this before (HERE), but I love writing when I travel. There are so many experiences to write about, and so many people and things to see. If I sit down in an airport I can immediately find dozens of worthy characters and begin writing backstories about them immediately.

One day I hope to write a series of short snippets. Maybe call it Airport Stories or something like that. I always loved that movie with Tom Hanks where he is stuck in limbo in the airport.

He can't leave the airport because his passport is not valid. He can't fly home because his passport is not valid. He's stuck, right there, in the airport. The whole movie is fun to watch. I always think that if I had written that I would have filled it with silly things that I see in the airport. Naturally they did this too in the movie, but there is so much more than they brought up.

Today I got to sit across from three very old folks all discussing the different operations they have had. They sounded like they had been through an active war zone over the courses of their lives with all the surgeries and maladies they brought up, but here they were just happily discussing "shredded" meniscuses and things they'd had to have removed and the horrible doctors they have to deal with.

Those three alone would have made a quick and engaging chapter. Perhaps I should begin taking a tape recorder and record people at the airport. Airport Interviews I will call it. Sounds like a winner to me! It will be filled with colorful characters! Something like Amistad Maupin's Tales of the City. 

Sadly this is not a unique thought. The LA Times did an expose on writing from an airport. What I should have done is gotten this contract! (read the story HERE).

Always Good to Read and Old Friend

When I was in middle school I spent summers with my grandfather helping him at his bed and breakfast in the country. He was a huge fan of the half price books store in the little town near the place, and we would go into town for more books often. That little book store had a vast collection of Louis L'Amour novels and I started churning through them. Never got through them all, so now, when I'm hard up for a book to read, I'll turn to them.

I just finished Reilly's Luck and it was less than Louis' best book. The story by itself just wasn't that compelling. It started strong with a young boy being saved from being abandoned and killed. And the middle was decent, but the run up to the story and the end of the book were both things I'd rather just forget.

Still, as the title of this post suggests, it's always fun to go read books from an old favorite author. Old friends are always friends, right? So even a bad Louis L'Amour isn't so bad as long as he sticks with his strong points. At least the reader always knows what he's going to get.

One thing that continues to amaze me, especially as I work on my two works in progress, Sunset Perfect and Dev Palmer, is how prolific Louis was. When I do a quick look up of his bibliography I see over 188 separate novels. Here I am stuck on novel number 4 and he's spitting out 188. Even his worst probably better than mine.

New Outlook

Six or so years ago the company I work with suffered a major loss in the form of the death of a co-worker. He was at work and a piece of his equipment failed. He died within twenty minutes. I remember well the senior leader meeting that occurred just afterward. Our CEO stated a new outlook on safety and kept referring to this moment as his "stake in the ground."

At the time I didn't think it was that powerful. I realize now that it was far more powerful than at first I thought.

For the past few years I feel as though I've been wasting my time with my writing. Sure, I've been puttering away on several projects, but I've had other priorities that occupied my writing time. Writing small things and big things I've been wasting my time, talent and effort on an audience that didn't care. This is my stake in the ground moment.

• Those projects, they'll be knocked out and finished one by one.
• This blog, it will be updated daily. 
• This waste of time, it will be forgotten and I will move on. 

There's a new look and feel to this blog as you can tell. I'm looking forward to actually sticking with it this time. I've tried re-starts before. This one I can already tell is different and part of it is this stake in the ground. A commitment to myself and to those that read this that things will be different. Will I back-slide? Perhaps. Actually, most definitely. But I'll use this post and this stake in the ground as my way point and my cardinal direction.

Check back again soon. I'm back on course.

Intriguing Russia

Why do I find Russia so intriguing?

I loved Icon but Forsyth (here) . . .could be my new favorite book. The problem is that my old favorite book was Red Storm Rising (here) . . . an amazing book about war with Russia.

Why do I love Russia and Russian Wars so much? I can tell you now . . . for both Red Storm Rising and Icon the reason I liked those battles in the books was that they featured tanks. I don't even like tanks. I was in the infantry. We practiced with tanks and I hated them. We got to ride and drive one once . . . thought it was ridiculous. We even took a group picture while riding on one in the desert. Thought it was silly when I took it . . . still think it's silly. My colleagues didn't, but I did. I felt constricted and cumbersome. So why do I like tanks when I read about them in a fictional war with Russia? Who knows.

The book I'm reading now is the same. Command Authority. It's not as good as those other two, but wow. . . Russia is intriguing.

The flag of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics flew high above the Kremlin in a rain shower, a red-and-gold banner waving under a gray sky. The young captain took in the imagery from the backseat of the taxi as it rolled through Red Square. 

The sight of the flag over the seat of power of the largest country in the world jolted the captain with pride, although Moscow would never feel like home to him. He was Russian, but he’d spent the past several years fighting in Afghanistan, and the only Soviet flags he’d seen there had been on the uniforms of the men around him. 

His taxi let him out just two blocks from the square, on the north side of the massive GUM department store. He double-checked the address on the drab office building in front of him, paid his fare, and then stepped out into the afternoon rain. 

The building’s lobby was small and plain; a lone security man eyed him as he tucked his hat under his arm and climbed a narrow staircase that led to an unmarked door on the first floor. 

Here the captain paused, brushed wrinkles out of his uniform, and ran his hand over his rows of medals to make certain they were perfectly straight. 

Only when he was ready did he knock on the door. 

“Vkhodi!” Come in! 

The young captain entered the small office and shut the door behind him. With his hat in his hand, he stepped in front of the one desk in the room, and he snapped to attention. 

“Captain Roman Romanovich Talanov, reporting as ordered.”

Command Authority - Clancy, Tom.

Not an Excuse

This should not be taken as an excuse but it is just something I've noticed.

As I've mentioned several times were going through a merger at work (see more here). We have a culture clash going on between two types of people. The type I come from are innovators, they are people that push the envelope and try new things easily and aggressively. The other group we are merging with is more of a stay in your lane type of group. They like to keep to themselves. They like to do what they've done the same way every time.

(actual picture from work . . . that's me in the light blue)

This stay in your lane concept can be good because it makes for easily repeatable processes that are expected and understood. The problem is it leaves no room for trying something new or doing something different or better.

Today I was talking to a young lady who should've been on the innovation side. But the more I told her about this dream I have for training the more she pooh-poohed it. Every single argument I had she countered with another argument about how it wouldn't work, how it was too hard, how I shouldn't do it. It got to a point until I was out of arguments and so was she. Her final argument was, "it's just all so modern." I thought that was a pretty crummy way to end an argument and it doesn't really end it at all. Modern? Really?

So often I find that I know the expected argument from everyone from the other culture. Their arguments will always be well that's not the way we've done it . . .  it never works . . . we tried it once and it didn't work . . .  or no one's going to use all of that.

No this is not another post about mergers and acquisition's or about culture clashes. This is a post about why I'm having a hard time writing. After this 30 minute argument/conversation about my training dream I retreated back to my desk and realized I was tired. This was a moment when I had booked some time just to write and instead of writing I felt exhausted. I realized that for the last few months I've been more and more exhausted for this very reason. Not physical exhaustion . . . no, that comes from  my commute. This is mental and spiritual fatigue and exhaustion. It comes from always having to argue every single little point.

At my old company before we merged if you had an idea to push you talk to some people about it they would love the idea they would help you push it out there, add their insight then adjust, adapt and make it happen. No argument necessary.

Now, it seems everything from good morning to good night is an argument. Worst of all, as I wrote, I find that it's taking a toll on my writing.

But guess what? I'm not gonna give up on that training dream . . . and I'm certainty never going to give up on my writing. If anything by identifying the problem now, I can work to solve and work around it. Not only can I work around that young lady or find better arguments to convince her of my training dreams capabilities, now I also know that it's not worth the exhaustion to sacrifice my writing life. Or perhaps it means I should schedule around work in such a way that my ride in life is not affected.

So like I said it's not an excuse but at least I've identified the problem and I can work around.