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Military Romance Author

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Confessions Of An Author Tortoise

August 2, 2019 By Kimberly A. Cook 4 Comments

Mission: Purple HeartsDreams do come true. I wrote my first romance book at age ten. This week I published my first romance novel, fifty-two years later. A dream deferred, but not denied.

Wanted to give you a quick synopsis of the years in between. In Junior and Senior High School, I worked on the school newspapers and took tons of writing and literature classes. Entered the Army with the idea of writing a book, so I kept notes, letters and continued my love of photography.  Getting out of the Army I used my G.I. Bill to attend community college. Seems the consensus of my two career choices of writer or marine biologist were not the largest job pools, so I chose a business degree.

Graduated in the middle of a recession, couldn’t get hired, worked temporary jobs. After six months decided, screw this, I’m going back to college. Since I had overloaded on coursework for my business degree, I still had four terms of benefits. Enrolled in the Journalism Arts Technology program at Mt. Hood Community College in Gresham, Oregon, and earned my Associate Degree.

During my last term, my internship at The Gresham Outlook newspaper led me to apply for a job with the Newport News-Times on the Oregon Coast. I became the feature section editor and proceeded to write and photograph for eighteen months in what turned out to be an invaluable school of its own.

Next I moved on to Public Affairs Officer at the Portland VA Medical Center. While I built the first public relations program at the hospital, I enrolled in Dee Lopez’s beginning and advanced novel writing classes.  There I adapted my journalism skills into the fiction world, not an easy transition from “just the facts” of journalism to the “how does it make you feel” galaxy of fiction.

I met Cindy Hiday, my fellow aspiring student, and we became good friends. I joined Romance Writers of America and Willamette Writers, went to many local and national writing conferences. My first romance novel was titled Wings of Ice, about the world of Air Force Reserve Aerovac, which I’d joined in 1989. Because I wasn’t busy enough, obviously. But, still I wrote.

When my first novel was sent to Dee’s agent in New York, and I ended up being mobilized for Desert Storm, life got tricky. Romance publisher Silhouette requested my first and then second novels, but both were rejected with very nice letters. After a year of Desert Storm impacting my life state-side, I went to work for the feds again. Then I enrolled in Cindy’s novel classes, now an author herself, taking over from the retired Dee Lopez.

In Cindy’s course I saw the need for a writing class for my fellow veterans. Using Dee’s course as a guideline, I developed and taught Writing War Stories for three years at Mt. Hood Community College. Life is a loop. When I quit teaching, I wrote Do Bar Fights Count?, the non-fiction book on how I taught the class and self-published it in 2006. Before Kindle. It’s still on my Amazon author page in paperback. (June 2024 only used print books available, second edition in progress)

Right after that life got nuts on all levels. We had family challenges, I changed day jobs, and tried to save an aircraft carrier, the USS Ranger, to become a museum. All while working full-time, but now for a local government agency. In the meantime, I started a writer support group, because I really needed one. We still meet. And, I wrote when I could.

Fast-forward to December 2016, I retired two years earlier than I expected from the day job. I hear that happens to forty-one percent of us. It’s been a roller-coaster ride of helping move my Mom, clean and sell the family home of fifty-seven years, dig out my own house and try to figure out a new schedule. The fiction critique group Cindy and I started in November 2016 still meets and helped keep me honest on my writing and grounded. Plus there are fabulous snacks.

Along the way I’ve written one screenplay, (while taking several terms of Bill Johnson’s screenwriting class at MHCC) attended tons of writing conferences and classes, read volumes, kept working on my craft, and learned about the ins and outs of today’s indie publishing requirements. To make this book happen I’ve used at least nine different computer software programs, moved my legacy web site to this one, and almost threw my computer out my home office window. Many times. I refrained. Barely.

But this week I finally uploaded my first romance novel, my fifth one written, and pushed publish. I can’t even explain how good that feels to send my little book on its way. And you know the best part? After all the editing, proofing, beta readers, formatting, and business side of things is mostly set up, I can get back to the real fun.

Because to keep me kinda sane, I wrote two more books and they now need to be edited. Plus, it’s time to start the next book in the two series. I still consider myself a rookie fiction writer, but it is truly my joy, not a job. 

Don’t give up. Don’t deny your dreams, no matter how long they take. Grab life and hug it!

For the curious, Mission: Purple Hearts, a military romance, is available in ebook at  https://amzn.to/2YztBT7  You can get the free Vintage Veterans series prequel, Desert Devils, at https://www.kimberlyacook.com/signup 

How about those covers? I picked the artwork and my cover designer rocked it!

I may sleep with them. Seriously.

Desert Devils

March 2021 Update: And the quest continues. Since posting this about my first book, I have published three more fiction books with two more on deck, plus nonfiction on the way. My Amazon author page http://amazon.com/author/kimberlyacook

Since an indie author’s life resembles trying to tap dance while scrubbing the decks of a floundering ship in high seas, here are some things which have tried to impact my writer determination.

October 2019. Published Spec Ops Pig – The day I published this book my mom was delivered to my front porch after a neighbor saw her fall while on her daily walk. The concrete won. Mom was okay, after we cleaned her up. Hard to take down a former Marine, no matter the age. But keep your eyes open for ambush curbs.

March 2020. Pandemic lockdown. Right after we moved mom into assisted living. Trying to provide tech tv remote support from outside the building is not one of my best skills. But I’m good at delivering bags of stuff. Life is logistics!  

July 2020. Published Mission: Canine Hearts – I only check the news, social media, and turn on my cell phone after lunch. I carve nine to noon for writing time five days a week. Getting ready to upload this book, the news said the city the book is set in had blown up. That day. Again. Could not believe it. What are the odds? Hard to fathom more loss of life in that town. Said a prayer, then pushed publish, and moved forward.

September 2020. Wildfires hit and my entire family was on evacuation notice. Packing the car and preparing to flee screws up your writing schedule. We didn’t have to bug out, but the killer smoke inversion tried to make breathing optional. Humans need oxygen. Semper Parrot was delayed and Merry MisMouse, holiday book, bumped forward for the second year. It’s half finished! But the holidays keep getting jammed up.

December 2020. Published Semper Parrot – As far as I know, no parrots were impacted by this book’s launch. I’m getting a bit nervous about pushing publish these days. Who knows what havoc my books might unleash?     

February 2021. Massive winter storm power outage. Four plus days without heat, but plenty of outside ice. Balmy twenty-six degrees out. Launched an extraction mission to get my mom to my sister’s house, since they had gas heat. I will only own a Subaru. And my dad’s hard hat prevented me from a concussion when I got clocked with falling ice. Proper gear people!  

At some point, you just go with it. Flying vampire zombies must be next. One looks skyward and yells, “Bring it!” The Army and Air Force Reserve taught me valuable lessons. People first. Eyes on the mission. Zig. Zag. Gas. Go around. Evasive maneuvers.

But since I’ve broken every book marketing rule known to women, I march on. Perseverance. And a ton of Dove dark chocolate. Peanut M&Ms for backup. And cookies. Always cookies.

The only constants are change and chaos. To quote Marine slang; Semper Gumby – Always Flexible. Or something like that.

Now my marketing plan is to study the Ads for Authors course I bought last year to learn about Amazon ads. If the entire Amazon web site goes down, it’s not my fault. Caveat emptor. If they let me pay to use their system, I’m not responsible for what happens.

In the meantime? I keep writing. Because when the world gets too crazy, I can hide in fictional Hat River, Oregon. I find out what my characters are doing and how their lives are going. Writers escape inside their heads. So do readers. Stay tuned for more crazy.

Books ahoy!

February 2022. Published Mission: Disabled Hearts.  

October 2022. Where was I? Lost a lot of the last year when my mom went on hospice, then died in September 2021. (She hated the term “passed away,” so not using that!) A journey of grief and transitions is tricky, but one day at a time usually works. Writing was my anchor and therapy these past years, however editing was beyond me until earlier this year when I published Mission: Disabled Hearts. 

And because I never do what I’m supposed to, I wrote a book in a new connected series this year, which is with my editor. Because that was the book I needed to write. I should take Vegas betting odds to see if I finally get Merry MisMouse, the holiday book, finished this year. Who knows? Stay tuned! 

November 2023: Published Forbidden Biker, which I’ve come to call mom’s book. It started a new series, Moonstruck Makeovers, and I kept writing. I wrote it to avoid working on Merry MisMouse, truth be told.

December 2023: Finally published Merry MisMouse! Miracles do happen. Started writing this book in August 2019, and life kept shoving it past the next Christmas. For years! But finally, I prevailed. Note to self, write all future holiday books in July. 

December 2023: Published my first novella, Gingerbread Gorgeous, in the Single Santa’s Club series. Because I wrote this novella to also avoid working on Merry MisMouse. Which means I ignored all of my notes to myself and somehow published three holiday books in a row. I’m still digging out my office mess from that escapade.

July 2024: Getting ready to publish Mission: Runaway Hearts, due back from my editor any minute. Plus, I’m editing the Writing War Stories nonfiction writing book for veterans, published in 2006 titled Do Bar Fights Count? Give me chocolate! Shouldn’t I be writing a holiday book too? It’s July! And I am up to my eyeballs creating a streamlined series bible to keep track of all my characters in Hat River, Oregon, where ALL of my connected series are set. I’ve built an entire town, people, it’s a lot. In a fictional small town, not so far away…

November 2024: Published Mission: Runaway Hearts. Don’t ask me what happened to the fall. It was a blur. Pretty sure there were some tech issues which I have banished from my brain. 

December 2024: Published Chef Gorgeous. A holiday novella out before the holiday. Imagine. Miracles do happen! I must write the next one in July. Seriously. And since I can’t write a series in a straight line to save my life, next up is book two in the Moonstruck Makeovers series. Because I am not the boss of my muse. Plus, the series bible is turning into an octopus. And I am doing a fabulous job of avoiding the final edit on the nonfiction book. Romance books are so much more fun to write….

The adventure continues…     

 

“Confessions of an Author Tortoise” Copyright © 2024, 2023, 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019 by Kimberly A. Cook. Cover images Mission: Purple Hearts ID 62380801 © Sashkinw at Dreamstime.com and Desert Devils ID 140447199 © Ag042d at Dreamstime.com  Cover Designs by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

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Filed Under: Fiction Writing Tagged With: aged to perfection, Author Tortoise, baby boomer women, baby boomers, Confessions of an Author Tortoise, Desert Devils, Kimberly A. Cook, military, military romance, Mission: Purple Hearts, Mt. Hood Community College, Newport News Times, romance readers, romance writers, seasoned romance, The Gresham Outlook, USS Ranger, veterans, Vintage Veterans series, Willamette Writers, women veterans, writing in retirement

Beware Of Handsome Marine Biologists

September 5, 2018 By Kimberly A. Cook 6 Comments

Think this was my overnight guest. As soon as said pup was put with the other three, could not tell them apart!

I’ve done some stupid things in my life for handsome men. I’m a sucker for a pretty face and biceps. (Lordy, there were men with amazing biceps in the Army!) But, last Friday’s harbor seal video reminded me of an adventure in my newspaper days.

While working as a reporter and photographer at the Newport News Times in 1984-85, two of my favorite (very handsome) marine biologists asked me to deliver something to Portland. I was driving to my parents house after work on Friday night. They did not tell me what it was.

I figured papers or something that needed to go to the big city. Showed up at the Hatfield Marine Science Center to find the guys tube-feeding a baby harbor seal who needed a ride to the Oregon Zoo for rehab. Surprise!

“Since the zoo will be closed when you get there, you can keep him overnight in the bathtub and take him up in the morning.”

Right. A quick call to Mom and Dad to see if that was okay. God Bless my suffering parents, they never knew what the next adventure might entail. They said fine.

Baby seal was put in a largo red Igloo cooler with the lid propped open for air and stowed in the front seat of my 1974 maroon Nova. We seat belted the cooler in and I was instructed to drive carefully.

“What if I get stopped by the cops?” I asked. “Don’t I need papers?”  I knew it was a federal offense to handle or transport marine mammals due to the Marine Mammal Protection Act.

“It’ll be fine,” they said. “Just give us a call if you get stopped.”

From my jail cell no doubt.

Another possibility of foster pup.

It’s a two to three-hour trip to Portland from Newport given the weekend traffic. My memories of the trip are fleeting incidents.

The smell of seal poop. Can’t really describe it. Think of eating only fish and then it being poop. Baby poop. Killer light yellow-greenish baby poop.

Baby seal did not like riding in the cooler. He especially did not like railroad crossings and curves in the road. He called for his mother. “Ma, ma!” That is exactly what it sounds like.

It was summer, so luckily I had the windows rolled down. Remember seal poop. This was fine until I stopped at a red light in McMinnville. Folks next to me had their windows down too. “Ma, ma!” kept coming from the cooler. I knew they were looking at me. I stared straight ahead. Ignore the seal in the front seat.

The drive seemed to take forever and I worried about him the entire time. The guys told me he should be okay, but it’s always iffy with stressed marine life. I was now his foster mom.

When I got to my parent’s house, Dad took the cooler into the backyard followed by a  group of neighbor kids. We washed the little guy off with the hose to clean him up; seal poop marinade. Then Dad airlifted him into the bathtub, complete with the non-skid pink shells on the porcelain surface.

By this time, he was hungry. I had nothing to give him or any way to feed him. We opened the bathroom window to the backyard for cool fresh air and in case of incoming or outgoing seal poop. “Ma, ma!”

Nobody slept that night.  The constant “Ma, ma” broke our hearts. The little guy also had a damn good set of lungs. Since the main bathroom was surrounded by the three bedrooms, we all felt his pain.

About 7:30 the next morning the front doorbell rang. I was getting ready to take pup up to the zoo. I answered the door. It was the neighbor who lived behind my parent’s house.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“We heard odd noises during the night.”

We’d never been huge friends with our backyard neighbors. “It’s the seal in the bathtub,” I said.

He looked at me. A confused expression on his face.

“We’re going to the zoo,” I added. It took everything in my soul not to say, and then shopping and a movie. I did not elaborate.

He stared at me a bit longer. “Oh, okay,” he said and then left the front porch, shaking his head.

I delivered my “Ma, ma” package to the zoo staff and took some pictures. I couldn’t bring myself to take his picture while he was in the bathtub. I felt it would be exploiting his situation.

Minor damage to the bathtub included repairing the shell non-skids he had managed to loosen the edges of during the night. Which was then followed by a thorough washing with bleach.

My handsome marine biologists, who got out of driving to Portland that weekend, let me know my foster pup did make it through rehab and was released back into the wild. Think that is one reason I take so many harbor seal pictures. It’s personal. Might be great-grand kids of my overnight guest.

Beware of handsome marine biologists.  Trust me.

Pup visitor is one of these four guys. Notice the 80s gear on the zoo staff. The quest to find these pics was epic.

 

 

 

 

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Filed Under: animals Tagged With: animal rehab, Beware Of Handsome Marine Biologists, handsome marine biologists, harbor seal pups, Harbor Seals, Hatfield Marine Science Center, humor, Kimberly A. Cook, marine biologists, military, Newport News Times, newspaper reporter, ocean, Oregon, Oregon Coast, Oregon Zoo, reporter, romance readers, romance writer, sea life, Warrior Tales, writer, Writing

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