I was
recently introduced to Ken by another Scribbler guest, Heather McBriarty,
author of Somewhere in Flanders: Letters from the Front, who suggested
Ken would be a good fit for our author interviews. I’m glad she did. You can
read her interview HERE.
I have been
gifted Ken's debut novel - Yukon Audit – and I have read this terrific
story. I’m eagerly anticipating reading book 2 in the series – Yukon Revenge.
The detail
is remarkable in the story. Baird is a pilot and when he takes you flying, you
can feel it. A fine storyteller.
The novel has garnered a ton of 4 & 5 star reviews on Goodreads. See them HERE.
Let’s have a
chat with Ken.
Allan: I
have trouble finding a bio on you. Is that intentional?
Ken: Before I answer that, let me first say
thanks for the opportunity to talk to the Scribbler clan. I love talking books with
people who love books.
*** You are
most welcome, Ken. It’s a pleasure having you as a guest.
Now to your question. At the end of each of my novels is a brief two-line bio which is also included in the bar code meta data for each print version. So that two-liner should be accessible somewhere on the net. But I’ll save everyone the trouble and recite it to you now. It succinctly states:
“Ken Baird operated a Yukon gold mine for ten years. A former
receiver-manager and private pilot, he now lives in Florida.”
And that’s
the extent of my online persona. I’ve never been a fan of social media, and in
particular of those scoundrels running Facebook, and have never used the
internet for any kind of promotion. I have no website, no Facebook page, no Twitter
account, no Amazon Author page, in fact don’t even own a smart phone. My writing
is my product, not me, and I’ve always let the merits of my books stand on
their own. Thankfully they’ve been well received by readers who continue to post
plenty of positive reviews, and nothing sells books like positive reviews. The
word-of-mouth strategy has worked well for me.
So, with regrets
for your time spent looking, you were not going to find a more comprehensive bio
of me posted anywhere online. Is that intentional? Probably.
Allan:
Before we get into writing and such, please tell our readers a bit about
yourself.
Ken: Well, I’m a Canadian and damn proud
of it. Still listen to CBC radio in the car. Been all over Canada and around
the world. Had a lot of adventures and did some dangerous things. Hated every
minute of every day I ever spent in school. And I wish we were nicer to the animals.
And I really, really wish we would start to get serious about managing the
planet better, which among other things will mean smaller houses, smaller families,
and smaller people.
Allan: From
reading an intro in Goodreads, I discovered you spent many years in the Yukon
and the vivid descriptions in your novel can only come from someone who’s been
there. Can you share a little about this experience and how it affected your
writing?
Ken: Ah, the Yukon. Well, as the saying goes, home is where
the heart is, and for me that will always be the Yukon. I went up there for the
first time in 1979 for an office job, left a year later for a so-called promotion
in the city, and not long after took a big demotion to return just as fast as I
could. Next thing you know, I’m a gold miner.
Regarding
the Yukon’s influence on my writing, it’s the mystique of the place that inspires
me. There’s no such thing as a frontier left anywhere in the world, satellites
have put paid to that concept, but at least the Yukon still looks and feels like
one (especially when you’re lost in an airplane). Can never hope to explain this
adequately, but there were times when it was just me and the land and the wilderness,
and I’d often be overwhelmed by this eerie spiritual reverie. I can’t count the
number of episodes I had like that over my twenty years up there, many of which
to this day remain vivid and palpable. If life is about weaving memories, then I
had my fair share in the Yukon, whether digging for gold in the middle of
nowhere, or flying in an empty sky, or crossing a big mean lake in a boat too
small, or simply gazing at a mountain in the middle of the night, glowing like bronze
in the midnight sun. And oh, I also had a couple of hundred adventures and a
bunch of close calls too, but those are for another day.
So armed
with that nostalgia, when I sat down to write my first novel, guess the setting
for the first chapter.
Allan:
Please tell our readers what to expect when they pick up their copies of the
Yukon novels.
Ken: Well, both Yukon Audit and Yukon Revenge are definitely
thrillers, but thrillers with a difference, because the hero has to share the
limelight with the Yukon.
The protagonist
is a guy by the name of C.E. Brody, a reclusive bush pilot and handyman who
lives on the Yukon River with two poorly behaved dogs. Brody likes to mind his
own business and just wants to be left alone, which means he’ll do anything and
everything to avoid any form of authority and the various trappings of a modern
world. But trouble finds him anyway when a beautiful woman, and some very evil bad
guys, walk into his life and turn it upside down.
I think the
ways in which Brody confronts the threats and challenges he must overcome are
what make these thrillers unique, because it’s the Yukon itself that ultimately
provides him with the means to survive. Then there’s the cast of supporting
characters, composites of the eccentric people I knew up there (aka the
colorful five percent), and readers should enjoy their off-the-wall attitudes and
perspectives on life. I also do my best to paint a picture of the land and
delve into its gold rush history, its geology, geography and wildlife, as well as
providing some exciting scenes with Brody at the controls of his beloved old
plane. So there you have it, a pair of thrillers with a different kind of hero,
some very evil bad guys, plenty of action and suspense, a sizzling romance, and
an incredible setting. Something for everyone.
Allan:
Please share a childhood memory or anecdote.
Ken: My whole childhood was an anecdote so here’s a shorter
one from later in life.
I
remember walking past a bookstore when I was in my thirties, looking cynically at
the people inside, and asking myself, “Why would anyone buy a book?” Years
later I sat down and wrote one. Guess you’ve got to try everything at least
once, because life’s no fun if you don’t.
Allan: Yukon
Audit is an award-winning novel. Best Thriller – Indie Book Awards. This is a
great accomplishment. How does it feel to be recognized like this?
Ken: Yeah, who’d ‘a thunk? My first novel.
Best Thriller. And it wasn’t just any book contest. The Next Generation Book
Awards is the “world’s largest not-for-profit contest for independent
publishers and self-published authors”, and “the Sundance of the book
publishing world” claim the people who run it, the Independent Book Publishing
Professionals Group. So talk about a longshot. Anyway, it truly was an honor to
win, a huge surprise of course, one of the most rewarding moments in my budding
career as an author, and an accomplishment that gets better and better every
year. That said, I can also tell you it’s the only book contest I won, and I
entered quite a few, so feel very fortunate for the recognition.
Allan:
Please tell us about your writing habits and/or favorite spot to write.
Ken: Years ago, I bought this big old
colonial desk, solid wood, weighs a ton, and little did I know at the time it
would become the centerpiece of what I now use to produce my work. As to writing
habits, I have none, preferring to work in fits and starts and whenever the
moment grabs me. On that note, I keep my computer on 24/7 and so on a whim can
sit down at my desk any time, jiggle the mouse, and up comes my manuscript. This
has proven to be very convenient, especially when I have an epiphany in the
middle of the night and feel compelled to get up and write.
Allan:
What’s next for Ken Baird, the author?
Ken: Right now I’m writing the third C.E.
Brody novel, Yukon Justice, and it might well be the last of what would then be
the C.E. Brody trilogy. Not sure what’s next after that, but perhaps something different.
I had a job in a big city once and was appalled at the disparity in fortunes between
the people like me working in the glass towers, and the hapless homeless souls
living on the sidewalks below. Sometimes we literally had to step over them on
our way home after work. That disparity in fortunes still bothers me to this
day, and I have some ideas for a story to bring it to light.
Allan: There
is a cliché amongst authors – Write about what you know. What are your feelings
on this statement?
Ken: I’m not sure, I suppose it depends on what you’re
writing about. But one thing is certain, the instant a reader senses you don’t
know what you’re talking about, then your whole story loses credibility, and so
do you. A few years ago I picked up a popular new novel by a New York author
about the Klondike Gold Rush. Only a few pages in he began describing the methods
of mining gold in the Yukon at the time, and how the gold could be easily recovered
from the creek gravel because the gold was so much lighter than the gravel. I
was flabbergasted at what I’d just read. I mean come on, who doesn’t know that
gold is heavier than just about everything else? I thought, “It’s the other way
around, you idiot!” I almost called the cops on the guy. Needless to say, I
tossed his book.
Which
raises the importance of research. If you’re going to describe anything at all,
then do your research and do it thoroughly. Get the facts and get them right. Diligent
research is a big part of the writing process, and a crucial responsibility to
your audience.
Allan:
Anything else you’d like to tell us about?
Ken: Only to say thanks again for this, that I’m still
having fun with my new gig as an author, and to look for the third C.E. Brody
novel in late 2022.
An Excerpt
from: YUKON JUSTICE (scheduled for release in late 2022).
(Copyright
is held by the author. Used with permission.)
Excerpt From Yukon
Justice © 2021 by Ken Baird
ONE
The
man in the back of my plane was
in a body bag.
At least I assumed he was
a man, judging by the length of the lump inside.
I’d just
taken off from Franklin Lake, which is a hundred miles north of where I live, a
dot on the map called Minto, on the Klondike Highway, in the Yukon.
Two cops
had loaded the bag into the cargo bay and told me to fly it to Whitehorse. They
said some other cops would be waiting there to unload it. Of course they
wouldn’t tell me who was in the bag, but seeing as how yesterday I’d flown a
Yukon conservation officer into the very same Franklin Lake, and seeing as how
the only other access into the lake was a trail still waist deep in snow, well
I had a pretty good idea of who it was.
Which was
damn depressing.
Because
he was a nice guy.
And just
a kid.
Which had
me wondering what might have happened to him.
I took
off and climbed to three thousand feet, leveled off, eased back the throttle,
and with a heavy heart pointed my old plane south.
Naturally
the cops weren’t going to trust a bush pilot like me with a dead guy in a body
bag, and so I was accompanied on the flight by a Constable E. Saunders of the
Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Saunders was a fierce looking woman with a crew
cut, the personality of a fence post, and a body made out of concrete blocks.
I’d met her last summer in Whitehorse where she’d given me a two hundred and
fifty dollar ticket for using my cell phone while driving my truck.
We didn’t
exchange Christmas cards.
She was
sitting beside me in the only other seat in my plane, frozen like stone, hands
clenched between her knees, face white as a sheet. She was fixated on the
console, breathing in short gasps, except whenever we hit a bump and she’d stop
breathing altogether.
Guess she didn’t like flying.
An hour
later with Whitehorse on the horizon, I got up my nerve and decided to pop the
question. With the press of a button on the wheel, I jutted my thumb over my
shoulder and asked, “So who’s in the bag?”
Constable
Saunders didn’t respond though I knew she could hear me through the big green
headphones on her head, same as the ones I was wearing. You’ve got to wear ear
protection in my plane, the big radial engine is loud, and like it or not she’d
had to remove her Mountie hat to put them on.
“Is his
name Blake? I flew a guy named Blake into Franklin Lake yesterday, but hey, I
guess you knew that already. Right?”
She said
nothing, didn’t move, and remained transfixed on the console.
“So what
happened?” I said.
Still the
silent treatment. I gave her a good long look and could see she was in a
personal battle to keep her lunch down. I know the signs all too well when a
passenger is about to lose that fight. First they start burping, little ones at
first, then the burps get bigger and more frequent and their cheeks will
inflate with each one. It’s only a matter of time after that.
I kept an
eye on her, waiting and watching. The next time she burped her cheeks puffed up
like tennis balls. “Hey,” I said, “if you’re going to be sick use that bag in
the pocket beside you, or that fancy hat of yours for all I care. But don’t upchuck
on the floor or I’ll have to add a cleanup fee to your bill.”
When she
turned and glared at me, I glared back and said, “It’s two hundred and fifty
dollars.”
* * *
Thank you
for taking the time to share your thoughts, Ken. Wishing you all the success
you deserve.
For all you
exceptional readers wanting to discover more about Ken and his stories, please
follow these links:
Yukon Audit | Eyes & Ears Book Blog (wordpress.com)
Next week, June 19th, Author Marjorie Mallon will be back.
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