Tag Archives: hurricanes
I’ve lived my entire life in the state of Virginia which in and of itself gives me amble fodder for the novels I write. Thankfully, we are blessed with weather that leans normally toward the tranquil side. Now, that’s not to say we don’t receive a portion of the bad stuff.
We live about ninety miles from the east coast, and from time to time, will have a hurricane pay a visit. These visits (although nice to be considered by the blow hard system) can be harrowing to say the least. What makes these rotating monsters so nice to encounter are the lovely names they are labeled with once they reach Tropical Storm status.
Another unwelcome phenomenon which usually stops by to say, “Hello,” in the spring and summer is our old friend, “the Tornado.” These twisters can wreak havoc in a short amount of time and over a surprisingly large area.
Our other friend visited this past weekend as a sky full of white fluffy stuff that made its way to the ground. Kids love this icy weather for it means no school. I’ll have to admit, it is pretty but I prefer the type of storm where the temperature rises and the roads are clear by the afternoon.
Let us not forget that each form of weather has its good and bad. Seldom, but frequently enough for me, are the winter storms that drop eighteen (and in some isolated areas) up to thirty inches.
I guess you could wrap up the atmospheric conditions in our area by saying, “If you don’t like the weather, wait twenty minutes and it’ll change.”
I have written about snowstorms, volcano’s, earthquakes, and tornado’s, but have never put pen to paper, concerning hurricanes. Now it just so happens we have one named Florence headed our way in the next few days, which also means we will have an individual named Jim Cantore dodging debris over the airways.
Hurricane Florence at this time is a Category 4 on the Saffir-Simpson Scale, with 130mph sustained winds and higher gusts.
The Saffir-Simpson Scale measures the ferocity of hurricanes on a scale of 1 to 5. A Category 1 is the weakest, with sustained winds beginning at 74mph and minimal damage. A Category 5 is the strongest, with sustained winds beginning at 156mph with catastrophic damage.
Once a hurricane reaches Category 3 status, it becomes a major hurricane. Hurricane Florence could easily become a Category 5 before landfall sometime Thursday. I urge everyone in Florence’s possible track to heed evacuation orders and use good sense. And I ask God to protect all those in Florence’s path.
I truly enjoy writing. It’s something I am able to do every day, which in and of itself is a blessing. From the first blank page to the last page, signifying the end of the book, I am ecstatic. Even the rewrites and the edits offer a form of pleasure though I tend to gripe a bit about having to do them.
The publishing process with its: synopsis, back matter, hooks, describe your book in less than thirty words, biographies, comparisons, media press releases and an entire rash of things to do, I find masochistically enjoyable.
After that, comes the scourge of writing, the plague of pages, the bane of books, the dastardly author affliction, the single word that brings fear into the hearts of mere mortal men, but the most necessary word if there ever was one.
That word: Marketing!!!
Imagine, if you will, (I know I’ve asked this frequently during the course of this blog, so just do it) floating in the middle of a serene lake. With your cane pole, you have managed to snatch an abundance of tadpole sized fish from the water. Aggravated there will be no fish dinner tonight, you begin to throw a tantrum to rival all tantrums. The motion of the canoe begins to send out signals that other aquatic creatures residing in the lake would interpret as one of their brethren in trouble. Then, what of all wonders would appear to assist but a twelve-foot bull-shark vaulting from the water to cleanly remove your head. This action leaves the remainder of your carcass still paddling with timed squirts of blood shooting in consistent arcs from the ravaged neck.
Such is the arduous task of…marketing.
One beautiful fall day, you hire three laborers to rake and blow the leaves that litter your lawn. The same day, you decide to wash and wax all three of your vehicles. You not only spit shine and protect the outside of your automobiles, but carry forth and do a professional detailing job on the inside. With very little light left in the day, you finish cleaning your gutters as the sun sets. Totally worn out from the day’s events, you eat dinner and turn in early. You arise, dress, and bounce outside to take a quick look at your manicured lawn and sizzling finish on your vehicles. You open the door and something strange smacks you in the face. The lawn is littered with leaves and debris, two foot deep in some places. Three huge oak trees have been uprooted and strategically placed, one on top of each vehicle. The gutters have been ripped from the house along with most of the house being ripped from the house. As you survey the damage, you find your bedroom and the hallway to the front door are all that’s left from the structure.
Needless to say, your work, curtesy of hurricane Claude the day before, went for naught. Such is the arduous task of marketing.
Having just published a novel, I am now encased in the arduous task of marketing. It’s kinda like a wedding, you know, “better or for worse,” and the real grabber, “sickness and in health,” and the one that will truly set you free from marketing, “till death do us part.”