Kronos Rising

Now that I finally sold my road bike (God, I hated that thing), I find myself getting more and more into training in the great outdoors, I always look for ways to keep things interesting. And what better way, when visiting the Mojave during a recent trip to California, than to indulge in some impromptu trail running.

Of course, this ain’t your average Central Park stroll, lol. During the day, temps in the desert get hot enough to melt lead. And, if you’re like me, and you try to run at first light in order to avoid the searing burn, you get to hoof it through a lovely natural minefield composed of tarantulas, scorpions, gila monsters, and that most lovely of traveling companions, the deadly Western Diamondback rattlesnake.

Add the aformentioned rogues gallery to an already unstable and crumbly terrain, complete with thorny cactii, sharp-leafed brush, and prairie dog holes that can break an ankle everywhere you look (at least, I hope that’s what lives in there…) and you quickly find new significance to that old addage: Look before you leap!

During a recent trip to Orlando I decided to visit Gatorland, home of some of the largest captive alligators and crocodiles on the planet. While I was there I checked out the gator wrestling. All the staff there were very professional and courteous, and they even offered me the opportunity to ‘wrassle’ one of their resident gators.

As you can see however, the poor reptile they gave me to sit on was (to me at least) embarrassingly small. One of the handlers apparently expected me to be afraid of the alligator. He gave me a strange look when I told him, “Are you kidding me? I fought a gator much bigger than this, and using nothing but my landing net.”

Where the heck is Spike when I need him?

During one of my nice, ‘relaxing’ snow hikes this past winter I came across this delightful, 18th century stone bridge and dam. The dam had collapsed many years prior, but with the snow and ice decorating the ancient river stones, the delapidated structure was eerily beautiful.

Not one to sit on my laurels, I spent a good deal of the now-faded winter taking advantage of, what was for me, a wonderful new form of exercise: snow hiking. Whether sporting snow shoes or crampons, the more treacherous conditions, crisp, cold air, and ice-capped vistas offered a great change up from my regular hikes and trail runs.

ON a recent trip I had a nice visit to Round Valley Reservoir, New Jersey’s deepest lake. A popular fishing and camping destination, its frigid waters plunge to in excess of 160 feet. I took advantage of the melting ice sheets and managed to hop atop a near-shore, foot-thick slab of ice that was roughly the size of my living room – thankfully hopping off before it drifted far enough out onto the lake proper that I’d be forced to do an impromptu rendition of the Polar Bear Plunge to get back to shore!

I’ve recently been privileged to make another appearance in the pages of In-Fisherman magazine. A few months ago I wrote in a brief article, thanking them for providing me with the contact information that enabled me to travel to Lake Tawakoni, Texas, and put my father on the biggest fish of his life. Besides the write-in, the editors were also kind enough to put a picture of me, my dad, and legendary catfish guide Cody Mullennix, posing with my father’s 51 lb. blue catfish in this January’s issue. Thanks again, Doug Stange, and the entire In-Fisherman team!

The sperm whale (scientific name Physeter macrocephalus) is the largest of the toothed whales, and the largest extent carnivore on the planet. Possibly of all time. Adult males grow up to 67 feet in length and can weigh 60 tons or more. Before whaling took its terrible toll on the gene pool the adult bulls grew even larger and, based on skeletal remains, may have reached 85 feet in length and weighed over 100 tons.

Sperm whales are amazing deepwater divers, descending thousands of feet down using only their sonar to scour the pitch-black waters of the abyss in search of prey. This includes both the giant and colossal squid. It is believed the whale uses its sonar as a weapon, focusing it into a tight beam to attack and stun prey from afar, before clamping down on it with its powerful teeth.

As luck would have it, sperm whales make at least one appearance in Kronos Rising, including a scene where one of them has a close encounter with the book’s toothsome antagonist. Who wins this heavyweight bout? Well, I guess my readers will just have to wait and see….

Although I try to limit how many of my blog posts are centered around my addictive fishing, this story just had to be told.

The other day, I took my father, Joe “the Bluegill King” Spletzer, out for some low-key bank fishing. We set up shop on the shore of a local pond, with the intentions of hauling in some of its resident carp. We had just caught and released our first fish, when no sooner had we sat back into our lawn chairs when another rod went off.

This time the take was slow and ponderous, and whatever was on the other end displayed a very un-fishlike fighting style. It turned out to be a monstrous snapping turtle, and a very angry one at that! How that frayed 12 lb test Berkley Trilene XL line held up against that beak and those claws, I have absolutely no idea.

Springing into action, I somehow wedged the dangerous end of the snapper into our tiny landing net and hauled him onto the bank. Despite his repeated attempts to kill us, I managed to weigh him. He was much bigger than expected, easily bottoming out a 40 pound scale.

Before releasing our disgruntled guest, my dad grinned and grabbed the snapper by his draconian tail. Flexing his 80-year-old muscles, he hoisted the turtle for a quick picture. At his age, this was an impressive feat, and also proves that old addage; “Time spent fishing is not deducted from one’s allotted lifespan.” That being said, fish long and fish hard!

Of course, now that I know there’s one big snapper in that pond, I can’t help but wonder if there’s a much larger one waiting…

; )

I was on a recent salmon-fishing trip to Lake Ontario, and decided to drop by Niagara Falls. As a writer that’s always looking for new and improved ways to sharpen my ever-eager pen, I figured it was a perfect opportunity to take in its natural power and majesty. It was a gloomy day, and with it raining on and off, the crowd was minimal. I was able to take my time, and leisurely reveled in the thunderous sound of millions of gallons of water, crashing irresistibly down onto the stony riverbed below.

While I was there, I visited the Falls Museum, and gaped in wonder at the assorted individuals that took the plunge over Niagara Falls, plummeting down to the Niagara river, far below. Now, as writers go, I consider myself the adventurous type. I’ve slugged it out with man-eating sharks and beat off a hungry alligator with nothing more than a 5 foot landing net. But I can state quite emphatically that anyone going over that thing in a barrel has bigger cojones than I ever will!

In preparation for Kronos Rising‘s release, I’ve elected to do a periodic ‘Rogues Gallery’, focusing on the assorted fauna, both past and present, utilized in my novel. In honor of ‘Shark Week’ I’m starting the ball rolling with a feature on that most legendary of maneaters, the Great White Shark, aka Carcharodon carcharias.

Exceeding 20 feet in length and weighing several tons, the Great White, also known as the White Pointer or White Death, is by far the largest and most feared carnivorous fish in the sea. The Great White regularly feeds on pinnipeds (seals and sea lions), as well as porpoises, dolphins, dead and dying whales, and the occasional and unfortunate human being. Although most shark attacks on man are believed to be erroneous in nature, with its tremendous size, powerful jaws, and razor-edged, serrated teeth, surviving an attack from one of these creature’s is an ordeal at best – and one my protagonist Jake Braddock is forced to endure…

Although I have yet to experience the thrill of pitting my strength against a Great White’s, I will certainly jump on the opportunity when it presents itself. What angler wouldn’t? Of course, as big and bad as ‘JAWS’ certainly is, every experienced fisherman knows there’s always a bigger fish out there…

Photos courtesy of Google and Thundafunda.com.

The story hit the web and the airwaves with the power of a speeding commuter train, and quickly spread like wildfire: Off the coast of Africa, an 80,000 pound whale leapt into the air and came crashing back down, nearly destroying a 32 foot sailboat in the process. It’s one of those spectacular, one-in-a-lifetime stories that everyone wants to read about.

Whale watching is an incredibly exciting activity, but can be fraught with risks. I’ve done it off the coast of Maui, and as thrilling as it may be, it’s always a dicey proposition, getting so close to an unpredictable and undomesticated animal that’s roughly the size of a city bus.

The whale in this story – an adolescent right whale – was most likely not being malicious. It was just being playful, and landed on the hapless schooner by accident. Thankfully, the sailing vessel was well constructed and the passengers/crew very lucky. No one was seriously hurt, including the animal, which fled the area, leaving nothing behind but scraps of blubber and some very traumatized sailors.

All’s well that ends well. Of course, as the author of Kronos Rising, I can’t help but wonder…was this animal really simply springing into the air in some hormone-driven display of youthful exuberance? Or, perhaps, could it be that it was going airborne in an attempt to escape something that was chasing it? Something huge and hungry, and dangerous enough to make even 40 ton whales flee for their very lives…

Photos courtesy of www.weforanimals.com

For whatever reason – perhaps due to my choice of writing genres – it seems I have a penchant for attracting man-eating reptiles. During a recent trip to Florida I was treated to two huge alligators performing their prehistoric mating ritual right at my feet.

The smaller of the two gators was a 9-foot female that I estimated at 300 lbs. Her mate was much bigger, perhaps 13 feet in length, and weighed 600 or more. The female, whom I affectionately named Stella, was definitely looking to get her groove on, and was aggressively initiating courtship with the dominant male. Luckily for me, the two beasts were focused on exploring each other’s primordial passions, and as such, had no time to waste on lesser distractions, such as devouring an unwary author…

Not having to worry about becoming a post-coital snack, I proceeded to document this amazing scene, with many pictures taken from less than 3 feet away. Eventually, the amorous couple, weary of my invasive voyeuristic tendencies, decided to flee the scene and sought out a more secluded location. They left, claw in claw, growling sweet nothings into each other’s tiny ear canals.

As exciting as this experience was, the most interesting thing I discovered while observing these scaly giants was the absolute tenderness they seemed to have for each other. Despite their omnipresent fangs and bone-crushing jaws, with all the chin rubbing and gentle caressing they did, it was like watching a scene from a romance novel. I just hope they found a shaded mangrove tree where they could hang their ‘Do not disturb’ sign!

Below is a fantastic concept cover for Kronos Rising, created by up-and-coming paleo-artist Josh Ballze. Josh has appeared in print numerous times, including several pieces recently featured in Prehistoric Times magazine. He went through a battery of revisions before zeroing in on the final rendition of this exciting piece of cover art. I look forward to seeing future works from this exceptionally talented artist.

As part of my recent visit to Texas, I decided to indulge in a bit of firearms training. Any writer responsible for creating action/adventure novels should have at least some first-hand experience in such things. What better way to be able to describe the sounds of gunfire and the smell of gunpowder to readers, than by experiencing it first hand? It’s been 25 years since I was certified by the PA State police, and a good 15 since I experienced the thrill of going shooting. Yet, despite such a prolonged absence from the sport, being let loose among a virtually unlimited arsenal of weapons and ammo still made me feel like a kid in a candy store.

After outfitting myself with the obligatory vision and hearing protection, I systematically worked my way up through a variety of revolvers and 9 mm semi-autos, including models by Ruger, Glock, and Sig Sauer. One of my personal favorites was the massive Smith & Wesson .44 magnum revolver, a gun made famous by Clint Eastwood in his role as “Dirty Harry.” Despite my rustiness, the massive weapon’s inherent intimidation factor, and its considerable recoil, I still managed to score 6 consecutive head shots at a distance of 15 yards. It’s quite intoxicating, blasting away at a target while wielding that much power. But, of course, the inevitable hand and wrist soreness does leave something to be desired…

Eventually, I wearied of the handguns, and decided to up the ante a bit. Rifles and shotguns were next on the agenda. Although rapid-firing a Belgian-made 12 gauge combat shotgun was, indeed, exhilarating, it paled by comparism when I wrapped my mitts around the legendary Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle (featured in Kronos Rising). This was the CQ model (which stands for ‘close quarters’, as if there was such a thing for a beast this size), and a semi-auto at that – none of that old-school, bolt-action stuff… At 35 pounds and costing nearly $13K, this monstrous weapon seems better designed to drop charging Tyrannosaurs than people. With enough power to knock a helicopter out of the sky and an effective range of over a mile, one can’t help but think – a kiss from this little lady goes a long way!

As a writer with a passion for big game fishing, I have a ‘bucket list’ of watery predators I plan on conquering before I ride that final charter (one can only hope…) upstairs. High up on that list was one of North America’s largest freshwater fish, the mighty blue catfish. With high hopes, I packed up my muse and flew to Texas to fish with former blue cat IGFA all-tackle world record holder, Cody Mullennix. I also invited my father, Joe Spletzer, to join us to celebrate his 80th birthday.

We hit 30,000 acre Lake Tawakoni, and over two days of flinging out bait, hauled in 30 of these aggressive hunters, including 5 real monsters. Despite his age, my father (popularly known among those closest as ‘the Bluegill King’ – due to his penchant for catching tiny sunfish) brought in the pool fish, a 51 lb behemoth big enough to swallow your arm. Of course, after having emerged victorious in battle against such a denizen of the deep, good ol’ Dad has since insisted on being rechristened: ‘Catfish Joe.’

It was a fantastic trip. Beside the excellent opportunity to do book research in a variety of venues, our guide, Cody, was a consummate professional. He is a true conservationist, and I can’t recommend him enough. Anyone interested in traveling to a great state to wrestle with powerful big cats should check him out!

I originally began considering a career in writing as early as 1998. But it wasn’t until a trip to the Keys in 2004 that I finally reached my decision. It was a year or so after having suffered a tragic personal loss, and I was fishing out of Marathon for shark and tarpon (a trip and adventure to be detailed at a later date). While shopping and dining in Islamorada, I happened upon the wooden sister ship to Ernest Hemingway’s beloved fishing and U-boat hunting vessel, the Pilar. I was enthralled with the experience; to be able to stride the deck of a vessel Hemingway himself once fished from – to sit in the fighting chair he used to battle giants of the deep. Below deck, the owners even had one of his writing desks, and the typewriter he wrote The Old Man and the Sea upon. I sat spellbound behind the master’s desk, even daring to type a few words on his typewriter’s well-worn keys. It was at that point that I made the ultimate decision to begin writing (forgive the pun) “In Ernest.” Authors like Zane Gray and Hemingway have been a source of inspiration for me since junior high. Their ability to seek out adventure firsthand, to write based on personal experiences, to me generates a far greater sense of raw reality than one acquires from armchair online research. As an aspiring author, I strive with humility to follow in the footsteps of these two literary lions.

In the interest of reaching readers specifically focused on Kronos Rising‘s specific genre, I’ve spoken with Mike Fredricks, editor-in-chief of Prehistoric Times, a popular magazine dedicated to dinosaur enthusiasts and collectors of related merchandise. This includes wall art, fossil replicas, model kits, and even sculptures. Shortly before my novel’s release, I will be doing a formal interview with him in the pages of his magazine to discuss Kronos Rising in detail.

I’ve also arranged a banner exchange between my book’s site and that of Prehistoric Times. In the event my readers are interested in trying out the magazine, individual issues/back issues can be readily ordered. Check it out, if you’re a fan of extinct (or possibly not extinct) life forms…you certainly won’t be disapointed!

My father and I occasionally fish a secluded, two-acre pond, situated a mile or two from my house. Though miniscule, this mini-ecosystem boasts a healthy population of stocked sunfish, pickerel, and bass, and provides us with much-needed opportunities to relax and converse, especially on days when we don’t have the time or inclination to take my boat out.

This past season, we were live-lining small shiners from shore, catching the usual foot-long bass, and an occasional unwary perch. Suddenly, something struck one of our baits and began screaming off line. I set the hook with gusto, and could tell right away that, whatever we’d lit into, it was no mere stocked fish. I handed the rod off to my dad, only to have the leader part seconds later. We never saw the fish, just its wake, but whatever it was, it was big and fast, and an obvious predator. From that day forward, the legend of our tiny pond’s very own “Godzilla” was born.

Our hopes high, we went back twice over the next few weeks, hoping for another shot at that fish, but hooked nothing of significance. One day, I went alone. My favorite spot was taken, so I ended up trudging through the trees, finding a precarious place to rest my folding chair. Boredom soon set in, and I killed time swatting mosquitoes and sending texts to friends. An hour later, my thumbs were interrupted by the sound of shrieking drag. I dropped my phone and began a five minute slugfest with what had to be our mystery predator. The fish was a real powerhouse. Twice, it nearly spooled me, and for the first half of the battle I didn’t know what I had on.

Finally, ten yards out, the fish rolled and I caught a brief glimpse of my unknown adversary’s misshapen head and belly. It was a huge catfish! The fight continued. It took several more minutes of pumping – and a lot of sweating and swearing on my part – before I finally coaxed it into my woefully undersized net. Though spattered with mud and shaking with excitement, I couldn’t wait to call my father and tell him the news. I’d done it; I caught “Godzilla!” I hoisted the catfish up and admired it. It was a beauty. Desirous for people to see the fish alive and kicking, I brought it back in a large Rubbermaid container filled with water and showed it to all our neighbors. The fish became an instant celebrity, and I posed with it for numerous photos. Then, after quick deliberation, and with daylight fading, I snuck back down to the pond and released it.

A few people scoffed, telling me I should have eaten the fish. After all, channel cat fillets are a delicacy. To be honest, I thought about it. But after the tenacious battle that scarred old warrior gave me, when I stared into his eyes I just didn’t have the heart see him end up in the skillet. I was happy to see him power away like he did. God willing, he’ll continue lurking there; spooling unwary anglers, and leaving a washtub-sized boil to mark his passage. When all’s said and done, it’s good to have a mythological beast prowling beneath the surface of your favorite fishing hole, even if it’s a tiny pond like ours.

Last night, I was surprised to discover I’d made it onto the cover of Bassmaster Magazine. I was completely oblivious of it until a friend told me via email, at which point I was tickled pink. Although I’ve written pieces for many outdoor and fishing publications, and been featured in at least as many for catches of note, this is the first time my picture’s ever been on the cover. I must say, as a writer, it’s both a thrilling and humbling experience, and one I’m enjoying thoroughly.

For those of my readers into more aquatic pursuits, my latest contribution to Saltwater Sportsman magazine just hit the stands in their March 2010 issue. The article is entitled Balanced Butt and is featured on their Sportsman’s Workbench section. Check it out!

With the final edits for Kronos Rising nearing completion, I decided to take a field trip to the American Museum of Natural History in New York. Besides a fun outing, the museum provided plenty of specimens worth researching for my book, including spectacular fossil materials to be found nowhere else. Amusingly, many of the specimens I’ve attached to this post turned out to be “bit” players in my novel ; )

The author posing with the fossilized skeleton of a sub-adult Tylosaurus. The largest specimens of this genus reached lengths of nearly 60 feet and were top marine predators.

The author providing size comparism for the prehsitoric fish Xiphactinus - also known as the bulldog fish. As large as many modern day sharks, schools of these fearsome flesh-eaters were mobile feasts for the largest carnivorous marine reptiles.

The author posing beside the fossilized remains of Cryptoclidus, a fish-eating plesiosaur, and the Cretaceous equivalent of a modern day seal.