John Locke, the E-Book King

by Jean Henry Mead

John Locke is the author of How I Sold One Million eBooks in Five Months, which includes more than a dozen thrillers and westerns selling for 99 cents.

John, why, after all your business successes, did you decide to write full time?

Actually, I’m still a part-time writer, with a full-time job that keeps me busy most days. But I’ve wanted to write books since I was in high school. I’m stopping to do a mental calculation. Could that have possibly been 43 years ago? Wow. I wanted to try my hand at writing all these years, but never got around to it because life kept getting in the way.

I know you write thrillers, but why westerns?

I had to pause just now to smile. Why westerns? Let me tell you something. Westerns are magic. When you read a western, you’re viewing the world in microcosm, because there’s a fixed time and setting, generally, with endless possibilities. The whole dynamic of a man and woman optimistically venturing into an untamed land with little more than a horse, gun, wagon, meager supplies…and a whole lot of courage—is the very definition of heroism. Courage is at the core of every western. And every good western offers adventure, heart, and a classic confrontation between good and evil.

How much research do you conduct before you begin a novel?

I do a lot of research, but try hard not to let it get in the way of a good tale. For example, my westerns take place in Dodge City, in 1860, and I describe a rough-and-tumble, bustling city in need of taming. Now I certainly know the first house in Dodge City wasn’t built till 1871, and it was a sod house. Why not set my story in 1876, when Dodge was exactly the way I describe? Because the other factual elements work for 1860, such as the terrible Kansas drought and the railroad and the stage coach lines and the trails and Indians and so forth. I could have invented a town or made my characters travel farther, but Dodge symbolizes everything I wanted in a western town, and it has name recognition.

My readers delight in the small things I point out that almost no one ever thinks about, like why Indians of the time were terrible at shooting rifles, or how dangerous it could be for a town woman to use an outhouse in the middle of the night, because where else would a bad guy lurk? But I don’t try to impress readers with the facts I uncover. I make the facts a part of my characters’ everyday life.

In your book, Don’t Poke the Bear, you talk about jail holes dug in the ground to house prisoners in Dodge. Did they actually exist or are your plots based purely on your imagination?

This is an example of the details I uncover and weave into my stories. It is true that almost no towns had jails in 1860. When a town did have a jail back then, it was literally a hole dug in the ground. But in Kansas in those days, it was very difficult to dig deep holes because the ground was often hard, and it was a rare settler who owned a decent pick and shovel that wasn’t damaged!

Do you feel that bringing back “adult Westerns” of the 1980s is going to revive the genre?

I’ve never read any adult westerns of the 1980’s, so I can’t say. My westerns are certainly adult, but they’re intended to be more fun than adult. They’re outrageous, and meant to be read with a smile. My goal is not to change westerns or revive them, but to breathe some new life into a genre that is uniquely American. My thriller readers know I have a soft spot in my heart for my westerns, and many don’t understand it. But I love them, and they make me happy in a way my other work doesn’t.

Why are there women's legs on all your book covers?

This was my publisher, Claudia Jackson's, idea. When I told her 75% of my readers were women, she said we should use women's legs on the next cover, because women are naturally drawn to other women's legs. I thought it was a clever idea, like a brand, so we decided to do all the covers that way. Now, when people see women's legs on a book cover, they know it's a John Locke book. I get publicly criticized for it sometimes, but my readers know it's all in fun. Also, we put a little number on the cover of every book so readers will know which number in the series that particular book is. It's sort of like a "Where's Waldo" but not hard to find! In Vegas Moon and A Girl Like You it's part of the boot. In Now and Then it's in an open coconut!

What’s the most important promotional activity a writer can conduct to make the public aware of his or her book?

Writing a personal blog in your unique voice, and getting it read by your target audience. I explain exactly how to do this in my new marketing book for authors titled, How I Sold 1 Million eBooks in 5 Months.”

Do you feel that ebooks are going to eventually eliminate brick and mortar bookstores?

The word “eventually” makes me lean toward saying yes. Until recently I thought book stores were like movie theaters, meaning there are enough people who enjoy the movie experience so much they’re willing to pay a premium for it. But that’s no longer a fair comparison to bookstores. Movies cost a fortune to make and distribute, and require the efforts of many people to create, which means high quality production can only be achieved a couple hundred times a year. But high-quality ebooks can be created by tens of thousands of excellent authors and distributed instantaneously throughout the world for a one-time cost of a few hundred dollars.

If writers follow your success plan to the letter, what’s the most they should charge for their ebooks?

They should charge whatever price makes the most economic sense. For me, it’s 99 cents. Here’s why: Follow the Stone has sold 60,000 downloads in five months, earning me $21,000. If I had charged twice as much I’d have to sell 30,000 downloads to break even. Let’s go all out and say 40,000 readers would pay twice the price. I’d earn $28,000 instead of $21,000. Did I come out ahead? In my opinion, no. Because in that example 20,000 readers chose NOT to buy my book at the higher price. Those 20,000 readers won’t be buying my second, third, and fourth books, nor will they spread the word to their friends.

Which social media outlets do you feel are the most important to further an indie writer’s career and how much time should he/she spend networking on the Internet?

I’m a Twitter guy. Facebook is probably good, but I prefer the Twitter experience. I don’t know the other outlets. If an indie writer is working social media effectively, he or she can tie a dollar figure to every hour spent at the keyboard. Let’s assume that dollar figure is $50 an hour. If I paid you $50 an hour to work at your keyboard, how many hours would you devote? The key is to learn what each hour of your time is worth. You can’t base it on what it’s worth this week. You need to compute it over the lifetime of the sales. Maybe in the past hour I met someone on Twitter who invited me to do an interview, and that interview resulted in twenty sales. And those twenty people each told three friends who told three friends. And then they all bought my other nine books. What was that hour worth to me? If I did the math correctly, it’s around $910. Maybe I worked another four hours today and generated nothing. Was it a good five hours of work?

Your website, blog and other networking links?

Everything I do can be found in one place: www.SavingRachel.com. When you go there you’ll see my books, my blog, my book synopses, reviews, trailers, and interviews. I hope your readers will stop by, take a look, and say hi.

Aw, Rats!

by Jaden Terrell

Back in the fall, my two four-and-a-half-year-old gerbils died of old age. After an appropriate grieving period, I started thinking about filling my empty office pet vacancy. I'd enjoyed the gerbils, but they weren't big on cuddling or being petted. They would run over my arms and hands and were a lot of fun to watch, but I was always afraid they'd jump out of my hands and hurt themselves. But they were clean, had hardly any smell, and were friendly and charming all their lives. If the person I'd gotten them from were still in the gerbil breeding business, I would have gotten two more, but since she wasn't, I started to look at other options.

As I'm wont to do, I read articles on a variety of "pocket pets"--sugar gliders (nocturnal), hamsters (nocturnal), African Pygmy Hedgehogs (nocturnal), chinchillas (expensive), ferrets (too big, too musky), prairie dogs (need too much space), guinea pigs (adorable, but I seem to be allergic), and rats.

Rats?

Now wait a minute, I saw Willard. I saw Ben. Shoot, a few weeks ago, an episode of Grimm showed a man being eaten by rats. When Hollywood wants to ramp up the creep factor, what''s the first thing they do? Bring on the rats. (The "rats eating humans" scenes are filmed by teaching the rats to lick peanut butter off an actor.)

But the more I read about rats, the more intrigued I became. Rat afficionados swear by the intelligence and sociability of these little animals. "The average rat is as smart as the average dog," one said, "but the smartest rat isn't as smart as the smartest dog." Still...the average dog is pretty darn smart. I learned that rats dream visually, as humans do, that they can be clicker trained to do tricks and run obstacle courses, and that there are even competitions in agility for rats. Yes, the rats go through the weave poles, jump over hurdles, and walk on balance beams or tightropes. I read about rats who come when called and prefer cuddles and tickles to treats. One study showed that rats "laugh" in ultra-sound. Scientists used equipment designed to record the sounds of bats and modulate them to a frequency humans can hear. They said that when the rats were being tickled and played with, it sounded like a human playground. Some researchers disagree, but the scientist who published the findings believes they are indeed laughing because they do it in circumstances that would evoke laughter in humans--for example, when they are wrestling or being tickled (which they seem to like, since they seek out hands that tickle more than hands that just pet), or when they are given a favorite food treat. Young rats "laugh" more than older rats, just as children laugh more than human adults.

The more I learned about rats, the more I liked the idea of having some. I mean, who wouldn't like a smart, sociable animal that seeks out human company and can learn tricks? So I tracked down the good folks at Phoenix Gate Rattery, a reputable rat breeder (yes, there are rat breeders, rat shows, rat agility competitions, rat fancy clubs, and so on) and filled out an application to "adopt" a pair of baby boys. I went that route rather than the pet store route because well bred rats tend to have better temperaments, be better socialized, and have better health than those bred for pet stores, which are often actually bred as feeder rats and often come home with respiratory infections. It was a lot like adopting a dog from a responsible dog breeder.

It's been an education, learning about bedding, nutrition, mental stimulation, and all the other things that go into raising happy, healthy rats. The boys are almost old enough to wean, and I get to pick them up and bring them to their new home next week.

Will Jared, my detective, ever be the proud (or possibly reluctant) owner of a rat? I have no plans along those lines, but since he has my palomino quarter horse, my elderly Akita, and my papillon, maybe it's only a matter of time.

Happy Leap Day

By Maxx Danielson (Guest Barker)

Happy Leap Day everyone! Once every four years Dad lets me post a guest blog, and since I’m only three years old, this is a real treat. Normally, I’m jumping for joy, but lately, Dad’s been so busy editing his next book that I barely get any attention. Oh, sure, he’ll play for a few minutes when I press my stuffed squirrel or knotted rope into his side, but then he goes right back into his office and bangs away on the keyboard. At that point I have no choice but to lie down next to him and supervise. My job is never done.

Two days ago Dad went back to work after being home for an extended time. Now it’s just Mom and me, and as much as I love her, I do miss my dad. I don’t really understand why he leaves us for days at a time, but it must have something to do with his black suitcase. Whenever it comes out, Dad disappears. I’m having serious thoughts of ripping up that stupid bag so he won’t leave us again.

It’s been a real interesting winter for me. Denver has had more snow this February than anyone can remember, and that has been a problem for me. You see, I love tromping in the snow, but my coat is so fine and curly that it turns me into a walking snowball. And since Mom and Dad don’t like wet floors, they scoop me up at the door and spend the next five minutes toweling me dry. It’s annoying, but I tolerate it because I love them.

It’s also squirrel season, and I really hate squirrels. As the head of security for the Danielson household, my job is to keep these furry rodents out of the backyard – and I take my job very seriously. They see me coming and they spring up a tree. Sometimes they taunt me when they get to the top and all I can do is bark and wait. If I could fly like my dad, there’d be in trouble.

Dad’s next story is about ghosts, and that concerns me. He keeps telling everyone it’s based on a real haunting in a Fort Worth theater, but I’m not so sure. Personally, I think he’s flipped his lid, but what do I know? All I want is for him to come home.

Dad, if you’re out there, you’re welcome for me taking up the slack while you’re out flying around the country. Four years seems like a long time to wait before I can do this again, but I suppose that’s how it works. For those of you who are Irish, it’s Leap Year, so get engaged. If you’re not, get with someone you love and celebrate the extra day any way you can. As for me, I’ll be at the front door waiting for Dad to come home.

A Christmas Walk on the Wild Side

I know it’s nearly Spring (in theory at least) but, although this is set on a day near Christmas, it’s really about how my mystery writer’s mind works. We were staying with family in a picturesque English village – thatched roofs, cottages, fields, all the images you’d associate with a typical Miss Marple mystery. In fact, it’s the village in which the UK TV drama The Midsomer Murders is filmed. Christmas was a couple of days away. The kids were excited. The overnight snow was quite thick. After breakfast, all gloved and scarfed, I set out to buy the paper – a walk of maybe a mile there and back. Not many people about. As I walked, various alternative scenarios unfolded. I’ll switch to the present tense to convey the immediacy, because all these things were immediate rather than considered restrospectively.

A burly man in a tee shirt comes wading through the snow towards me. He’s obviously crazy. No one can step outside the door in these temperatures without proper insulation. He clearly has no nervous system. I know for a fact that he’s going to produce a club, maybe an axe from the hedge beside him and I’ll become a stain on the snow and a headline in tomorrow’s paper (or, rather, a secondary headline because the burly guy will get the lead). As he passes me, he smiles broadly and says a very cheery ‘Good morning’. I smile back, wish him the same, we cross paths and I wait for the axe in the back of my skull. Nothing.

Further down the hill, a woman with an Irish wolfhound. The dog looks lean, hungry, huge. One wrong move from me and it’ll defend its mistress to the death – mine. We pass, the dog doesn’t even look at me. The woman smiles and I get a second ‘Good morning’. When they’re behind me I wait to hear the command ‘Kill’, the crunch of speeding paws in the snow and the hot canine breath on my neck. Nothing.

Near the paper shop a group of old women (not as old as me but old nonetheless) wait at the bus stop, no doubt on their way to their coven. Three of them stand well back, the other two bar the narrow pavement. These are old women, they’ve earned the right to stand where they like. It’s their pavement. I anticipate having to step into the road to get past them. I’m pretty sure that, as I do so, I’ll be struck a glancing blow from an SUV which will break my hip. In the event, as I reach them, they stand back. No ‘Good morning’ but I’m just grateful to get by without mishap or a malevolent spell.

I get the paper. On the way home, I notice a short, steep driveway leading up to one of the cottages and speculate idly about its owner being an old, bespectacled woman driving a Ford Anglia (Miss Marple sans bike maybe) who, in these snowy conditions, would scream round the corner, put the car into a broadside slide, hit the accelerator at the appropriate spot, crest the drive and execute a handbrake turn to skid to the front door and step calmly out with her shopping bag.

Further on, a man stands filming a young girl with a sledge and a dog. He’s looking through branches at her. As the unwelcome images begin to form, the girl calls ‘Hurry up, Daddy. It’s cold.’

I’m almost home and safe again. Striding down the hill comes a tall man with a brisk, military gait and bearing. He’s swinging a black walking stick. Here I should mention that the paper I bought is The Guardian. I imagine the man seeing it and setting about me with his stick, calling me a communist and hoping I rot in hell with all the other pinko, planet-saving homosexual intellectuals who are undermining the way of life he fought for. As I prepare myself for the assault, his face lights up into a big smile and, again, I’m wished a good morning.

Nothing’s wrong with any of these people. They’re good, friendly citizens. The problem is me. I’m the alien. I’m the one carrying the Satanic menace through this country idyll. I obviously read and write too many crime novels.

Interview with mystery author Robert Spiller

My guest today is fellow mystery author, Robert Spiller, who writes the Bonnie Pinkwater series. I’ve had the pleasure to be on panels with him and have enjoyed reading his entertaining novels, which are full of action and humor. His published books include The Witch of Agnesi, A Calculated Demise, Irrational Numbers and the recently released Radical Equations.

Mike: Radical Equations is the fourth book in the Bonnie Pinkwater series. Tell us what inspired this exciting mystery novel that combines math teaching, murder and mayhem.

Robert: In 2001 the school I model my series after was destroyed by tornado – a beloved teacher had died and everyone was at the wake, so no one was in the building and no one got hurt. I wondered how it would be if someone had been in the building as the storm raged and dismantled the school. So obviously I placed Bonnie at the heart of this danger. Also I had just hiked the famous Paint Mines hike in Calhan, CO and wondered (again) ‘wouldn’t this be a great place to stash a body?’ Lastly, I had always wanted to do a disappearing body mystery, so this also became a theme of this particular novel. Also, I had become enamored with the 18th century mathematician Leonhard Euler, so I wanted to feature him as the first male mathematician in a Bonnie Pinkwater mystery.

Mike: You make the world of teaching as exciting as that of Indiana Jones. Mathematics puzzles and history also play a part in your series; Bonnie Pinkerwater uses these to inspire her students.Tell us how your teaching experience influenced your mystery series.

Robert: I myself taught high school math for 35 years (this is my first year of retirement). I used many of the puzzles Bonnie uses and discussed many of the mathematicians (particularly the female ones to inspire my female students) that Bonnie talks about. My goal in the books has always been to offer a little education along with an entertaining mystery. I loved teaching and hopefully my readers can get a taste of the life of a person who also loves the profession and who thinks teenagers are just a hoot.

Mike: Why did you choose a female protagonist?

Robert: Bonnie is modeled after a wonderful teacher friend of mine who has many of the qualities that Bonnie possesses: a phenomenal memory, a love of teaching, a boat load of dogs. I thought a female mathematician would be more interesting, especially an older one (in my case a widow). Also I featured historic female mathematicians in the first three books ( a bit of a hobby of mine) and thought a female math teacher sleuth would make a better conduit for this info. The only problem I had was that my real life model was too sweet and nice. Bonnie needed to be a tad more cranky. For that I threw in a bit of myself.

Mike: Why did you select a fictional town (East Plains) to set your story?

Robert: I taught Mathematics for eighteen years in the small Colorado town of Ellicott out east of Colorado Springs. I went to teach there after a business venture failed. I intended to only stay for one year and ended up staying for almost 2 decades. I loved the community, the ranchers, the survivalists, the small town feel of the place. My first year teaching I taught in a building housing all thirteen grades. I knew every child in the hallway. When it came time to write a mystery I naturally fell into this special locale. Plus there are stories and situations circulating out there that I could mine for ideas. I still travel out to Ellicott to see antelope, and red-tailed hawks, coyotes, and miles and miles of prairie. And I still travel there (now named East Plains) in my mind every time I write a Bonnie Pinkwater mystery.

Mike: Motorcycles play a key role in Radical Equations. Is this a passion or something you researched?

Robert: Actually, in my whole life I’ve owned but one motorcycle – and that was for a couple of years while working in Ellicott. That said, the bike was a blast. I never stunt rode but I used to weave in and out of the lines on the road. It’s a wonder I survived. Now I would like to own a scooter. In fact my wife and I call retired life our scooter life even though we don’t own a scooter.

Mike: Your secondary characters are very entertaining. Tell us about the choice of Bonnie's friend, Rhiannon, who is a witch.

Robert: When I worked in Ellicott I knew a family of Wiccans. They were fun and gracious and agreed to teach me a thing or two about the Wiccan life. Gypsy, the mother dressed like Rhiannon dresses in The Witch of Agnesi (the first Bonnie Pinkwater mystery) and Radical Equations (Number 4). The daughter, who was in my class one year, used to have a small hour glass around her neck that held a few of her dead father’s ashes. You might think this kind of morbid but I found it endearing. The girl herself was a sweetheart. A few years back Gypsy died but I never forgot her. Whereas Rhiannon (who is named after the song by Fleetwood Mac) is not a copy of Gypsy, and is different in many respects, she was born with Gypsy in mind. I find Rhiannon the perfect companion for Bonnie.

Mike: Bonnie Pinkwater is always getting in trouble with school district administration. How much of this rebel behavior is part of Robert Spiller?

Robert: I’ve universally been blessed with wonderful administrators, but a number of my teacher friends have complained about principals and superintendents that were surly, non-supportive, clueless, egotists, jerks, bullies, and all around pains-in-the-butts. These folks were channeled into Superintendent Divine (I won’t give his nickname here) and Principal Zwieback (nicknamed Baby Toast). Bonnie has an affliction I stole from Edgar Allen Poe called The Imp Of The Perverse. This is an internal voice that prompts her into rash behavior. She is not always in control of what she says and does, and many times later regrets her actions. Several of these confrontations are with folks who just so happen to be her bosses. I’m not like that at all. In fact I’ve been told I’m a sweetie.

Mike: Radical Equations is full of non-stop action. Tell us about how you developed these scenes of motorcycle chases, tornados, confrontation and murder?

Robert: I’m glad you think so. I’ve tried to balance Bonnie’s cognitive musings (murder related usually) with Bonnie up to her elbows in trouble, and often danger. I like the idea of a fifty-something year old school teacher willing to put herself in harm’s way (and sometimes in harm’s way unwillingly). Bonnie is braver and smarter than me, so she has to perform at a higher level to keep me satisfied I’m utilizing her to her full potential. Plus I know what I like in suspense and mystery. I like to see the main character in one scrape after another.

Mike: You have been published through a traditional print publisher and have also self-published. Share your experiences of the two approaches.

Robert: My first three novels: The Witch of Agnesi, A Calculated Demise, and Irrational Numbers were all published through Medallion Press. I loved working with them but we parted company in 2008. I had already finished writing Radical Equations and was shocked when it wasn’t picked up because I thought it was one tasty little number. I went on to write some other things (two historic YA mysteries in particular) with the idea of following a similar traditional path, although I wanted a somewhat larger publishing house. All the while there was this Bonnie Pinkwater novel just sitting on my flash drive. Finally, I partnered up with Courtney Literary and together we went through the process of birthing a novel on our own. Last December we released the e-book of Radical Equations and late February the print copy of the book will see the light of day. I have loved having a say in the selecting of art, being responsible for final edit (I have to confess I am a bit anal), and all the legions of decisions along the way.

Mike: What and who inspired you most in your writing?

Robert: First and foremost Agatha Christie. Bonnie is my Hercule, my Miss Marple. I love the cozie (not much sex or violence) genre. But I also read a lot of mystery and learn from them. I read Michael Connelly, Jeffrey Deaver, Robert Crais and every read I have these moments when I think ‘that is something I might try.’ As for my all time favorite read: The Count of Monte Cristo.

Mike: Tell us about your writing journey.

Robert: In 1992 my second marriage evaporated and I went on a three week bicycle ride into the Four Corners area of Colorado. I brought along 5 spiral notebooks. I had a vague idea of a science fiction story I wanted to try my hand at. This tale blossomed into the novel The Children of Yei. I won second prize in the Paul Gillette (the writing contest connected with the Pikes Peak Writing Conference). Although no one bought TCOY, I found that I fell in love with writing. I wrote another Sci-fi novel, which I also couldn’t give away. Then I decided to try my hand at a mystery. This story was The Witch of Agnesi. I fell in love with Bonnie Pinkwater and I’ve never been the same again. There’s nothing like holding your book in your hand.

Mike: What's Robert Spiller's writing space and time of day for inspiration?

Robert: I have just recently built an office in my basement (in honor of my retirement from teaching and going full time into writing). The entire space is decked in fabric, billowing and burgundy, the walls and the ceiling. The space is exotic and I love descending into it. I try to write every day, but to be truthful it’s only lately that I’ve returned to my discipline (writing every day). I am working on the fifth Bonnie book.

Mike: How are you finding the retired life?

Robert: I love it, but I miss the kids.

Mike: What's next on your writing agenda?

Robert: I just recently began the fifth Bonnie Pinkwater mystery, Napier’s Bones. I’m also a third of the way into a horror novel that is based on a story my father used to tell. The darn thing gives me nightmares.

Mike: Any final comments?

Robert: Please visit my website: rspiller.com
My Facebook page. Every week I give another math puzzle that folks can solve for fabulous non-prizes.

Also I now have a blog, imagine that. Spillerwrites.blogspot.com
Please, please, please, if you read my books e-mail me : rspiller2004@yahoo.com and talk to me about it. I promise I will always write you back.

Mike: Thanks, Robert. For you blog readers, if you haven’t read any of Robert's books yet, add them to your must-read list.

Mike Befeler

Range Day Lessons

by Ben Small

It's a good thing my neighbors can't see what I took out of my trunk today. An M4, a M1A, a Glock 34 and an XDm. For those who don't know, the first two are battle rifles, the latter two semi-auto pistols. Two of the above hold thirty rounds or more, one twenty rounds, one sixteen. I'll let you figure out which is which.

Guess you can tell: I spent the day at the range.

There's a certain exhilaration from firing a firearm, a release of tension and a dose of either immediate satisfaction or disappointment.

Sorta like a modern era third date.

And it's tiring. I've been haggard all evening, exhausted, de-hydrated and spent.

Sorta like the morning after that modern era third date.

But there are always lessons learned from a day at the range. And today was no exception. Just observe; you'd be crazy not to look around. People are firing live ammo, you know.

I noticed two things today that at first glance might appear to be unrelated. Not so. Indeed, they represent illustrations of something that writers about shooting should understand.

Let me tell you what I saw.

First, I saw an eight year old girl shooting a .22 rifle from a rest, her barrel supported on a sandbag, the butt end on her shoulder. Her target stood ten yards away, with holes all across its four foot span. The rifle, an old Winchester, a lever gun, its wood stock chipped and gouged, the bluing of its barrel only partially remaining. No rust, no butt-pad. The girl's parents stood behind her, marveling at the way she worked the smooth action, laughing when she said she aimed at the target's armpit. Occasionally, one of the parents would shoot another, more powerful rifle at the table next to her. Their guns were newer, but their setup was the same, barrel on a sandbag, butt on the shoulder. Their targets stood at fifty yards, but their aim wasn't much better than their daughter's.

At another table, a man struggled with accuracy from a brand new rifle. His fifty yard shots spaced too all over his target, the rounds key-holing. I knew his rifle; I own one similar. I knew the ammo he used.

Why couldn't these folks hit where they aimed?

Simply put, it was harmonics, torsional vibration that they'd screwed up. Their stuff wasn't working well together.

As I learned from years of working with engineers who designed complex equipment incorporated into sophisticated systems worked into products which accomplish complicated tasks, everything vibrates, even stationary objects. We just don't always recognize vibration because we can't always see it; we can't always feel it. But when the separate vibrations of components combine into a whole, the vibration of that whole is called "torsional vibration." And when that torsional vibration goes out of tune, things go wrong.

Think of the weird shaking of your car when you hit a certain speed. Go slower or faster and the vibration disappears. Sometimes that vibration can be severe. Indeed, such out of tune vibration can tear some of the components apart. In vibration terms, the out-of-tune harmonics are called "criticals." A critical occurs when something vibrates at its own frequency instead of in a harmonized blend. It shakes, rattles and rolls.

Bored yet? I'm getting to the point.

Let me tell you what each of these people did wrong.

The girl and her parents: They rested the barrel instead of the stock on sandbags. While their rifles were cared for, in no worse condition than most, her parents didn't realize that by resting a barrel on anything, they ruined the barrel's float, throwing off the rifle's harmonics and causing it to fire differently with each shot. A rifle is designed to minimize any direct link interference between the bolt, action and barrel. It's designed to spiral a balanced round straight through a perfectly round tube and out toward a target, all at thousands of feet per second.

Like how Peyton Manning fires a perfect pass to a receiver, scaled differently of course. Ever see a wobbly throw? It's hard to toss a perfect pass when one's arm is smacked during the throw. Same principle for this girl and her parents, their rifles (throwing arms in this analogy) operating at much higher pressures and speeds than any linebacker nailing poor Peyton.

And same result: no accuracy.

The other guy: Wrong bullet weight for his rifling. That's why he had no accuracy, why his target looked as if someone had thrown keys through it.

You see, the guy fired a weapon with 1:9 rifling, and the spiral couldn't stabilize the heavy bullet he used. To spiral, a heavy bullet needs a fast spin. Otherwise it wobbles -- "tumbles" in rifle parlance. And tumbling causes key-holing in targets.

Again, think of a football: the heavier the football, the more spin required to make it spiral.

A 1:9 rifling means a bullet makes one turn in nine inches. A 1:7 rifling means one turn in seven inches. So a  1:7 rifling means a faster spin.

This guy would have been better served with a lighter bullet weight. The rifle functioned properly; he just didn't mate it with the right bullet. The torsionals were off.

Of course, I could have butted in and said something to the girl, her parents and the other guy, but, well...we all know people who do that sort of thing...butt in, that is. One can usually tell when someone wants help. They say something; they scratch their heads, or they stare at you with that lost look. I got none of that. Despite no accuracy, these people were having fun.

Well, okay, I lie...maybe just a bit. During a break, the guy came over and remarked about my tight target groups. As often happens during range-break chats, we discussed our rifles. When I told him I owned a rifle similar to his, he asked what ammo it ate.

Wham, bam! I threw a perfect spiral right through his open ear hole.

Just like Peyton Manning.

And, well...I learned something, too. I learned that if I don't clean my XDm once in a while, it occasionally may not fire.

Some people are just idiots.

Do You Like to Figure Out the Killer?

by June Shaw

When you're reading a mystery, do you want to figure out who the killer is? Are you disappointed if you figure out that person before the end of the story? Or do you really care about whether you determine the killer at all?

I know lots of readers really care -- I mean REALLY care about determining the antagonist long before the sleuth does. Many readers say they will toss a mystery if they figure out "who done it."

I won't. Whenever I'm reading a mystery, I need to stay invested in its characters--the people who bring it alive. Once I am, then I don't normally care whether I can determine the bad guy or not.

But I seem to be in the minority.

Okay, so I am a big fan of Janet Evanovitch books (some have compared my books to hers, and I'm thriled.) By the time she's letting us know the bad guy, I really don't care who it is. I'm just having fun with her stories.

Of the three books in my humorous mystery series, I have never had anyone say they determined the killer before my main character. No one does. I kind of planned it that way, although actually what I wanted to do was write books kind of similar to Janet E.'s, but with a more mature heroine.

People tell me my books are fun. That's what I was going for.

If you are a mystery reader and can determine the bad guy or gal before my sleuth does, please let me know. I'll tell people, "Your name ... is the only reader of my books that I know of who's ever figured out who the killer was long before my amateur sleuth does." And who knows -- maybe I'll send you a ribbon or something.

So how about you? Do you always like to figure out who the killer is, or do you even care?