Introducing My Agent: Robert (Bob) G. Diforio

I’ve written a book that is semi-biographical, one that is so personally close that self-publishing would be a mistake. Luckily, I have signed with Robert (Bob) G. Diforio, Founder of D4EO Literary Agency, to help me find a publisher for it.

Bob spent 17 years at New American Library [now an imprint of Penguin Random House] in positions ranging from VP Sales to President and Publisher, Chairman and CEO. There he helped launch the paperback careers of Erica Jong, Robin Cook, Stephen King, Ken Follett, and Robert K. Tanenbaum.

With Odyssey Partners, he led the management team of NAL in a leveraged buy out of the company from Times Mirror in 1982, purchased E. P. Dutton a year later, and sold the combined company to Pearson PLC in 1986, which merged the company with Viking Penguin to create Penguin USA.

Leaving NAL three years later, he opened D4EO Literary Agency in late 1989.

NOATAK CHRISTMAS By Rodger Carlyle

The heavy door shuddered as Wyatt threw his shoulder against it, stumbling into the overheated cabin. He wiped caked snow from his eyebrows and trimmed beard.

“I not hear your machine,” said Agatha, rushing across the tiny room to help her husband from his parka. She hung it on a peg behind the tiny, decorated tree.

"Broke down about a mile from here. Storm hit about an hour after the helicopter took off with Travis. Must be blowin' fifty out there. Thank God it's just spittin' snow and not too cold. Easy walk except for the wind. I can fix the snow machine in the morning."

"How bad was the wreck?" Agatha asked. “The radio don' say when they called us for help. Only says he crashed over on Snowshoe Lake. Two more minutes, he'd a been here.”

“My brother got out before the Cessna burned. He was talkin’ all goofy when I got there, all mixed up about Squirrel's present. Kept talkin’ about a Ruger when I ordered a Winchester. The Army paramedic on the rescue helicopter thinks it's just a concussion. He broke both legs, but they will heal.”

“Can we go tomorrow and salvage any of the supplies? What about mail-order presents?”

“There's just a pile of cinders and melted aluminum.”

Agatha poured a cup of tea and handed it to Wyatt. He pulled a chair over next to the wood stove and began unlacing his boots. He tugged off his canvas pants and hung them next to the tree. “You and Squirrel finished stringing the popcorn. Is Squirrel asleep?”

Agatha retreated to the table and picked up the otter skin parka she had been sewing. She pointed at the loft and smiled. “I'll finish Squirrel's new coat tonight.” Her hands looked tiny holding the long metal needle she used to sew leather. “We got our present. Travis is alive.”

The crackle of burning spruce logs almost masked the howling of the wind outside the log cabin. Wyatt sat, nursing his steaming tea. He mentally took inventory of their supplies. Things would be tight, but they would be okay for a couple of months, plenty of time to get another order on an airplane from Fairbanks. They still had almost six thousand dollars in the old coffee can on the shelf. “I'll order Squirrel another .22 rifle. An eight-year-old boy should learn to shoot. He'll be disappointed that there is nothing under the tree.”

“The village will be serving the Christmas Love Feast tomorrow,” said Agatha. “I wish the ham and rest of dinner had survived.” She refilled her own tea mug. “I’ll bake a moose roast. We’ll use the last of our potatoes. I have canned corn."

Her husband said nothing, just sat rubbing his feet. He glanced at his watch. “It's after midnight. Merry Christmas to the prettiest girl in the Noatak country.” He reached out and squeezed Agatha's hand.

A shy smile and faint flush filled her face. “I guess Santa got lost in the storm, maybe. He probably has to send his presents some other way,’ she added, looking up at the loft. ‘It's time for bed.’

The smell of frying Spam awoke both father and son. “Can we use the radio to see if Santa is really lost?” asked Squirrel. “Maybe he’s looking for Thomas, that's how I signed my letter to him.” The boy ate the last of his pancakes, staring at the tree.

“If he’s lost, he'll have to send his presents some other way,” replied Agatha.

“Maybe the helicopter scared his reindeer but I'm glad that Uncle Travis is okay.” Squirrel excused himself and pulled on his canvas coat then tugged his hat and gloves from the line above the stove. “I'll refill the woodbin.”

He opened the cabin door and tripped over something on the porch and tumbled into the snow. He screamed.

Both mother and father were out the door instantly. There on the ground lay Squirrel. In front of him a roly-poly, long-haired yellow puppy sat staring at him. The dog had a cord around his neck and a tag. “What's the tag say?”  asked a startled Agatha.

Squirrel pulled the puppy into his arms. He looked at the tag. “It says Ruger.”

Wyatt looked out onto the trail. Over the faint impressions of his tracks the night before, tiny feet had followed him from the wreck. Looking up at the clearing sky, he whispered, "thank you."

___

THE NOATAK VALLEY OF ALASKA IS REMOTE, MOUNTAINOUS, AND STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL. THE ISOLATED CABINS OF ITS CITIZENS NOW HAVE SOLAR PANELS AND TWO-WAY RADIOS, BUT FEW OTHER ACCOUTREMENTS OF MODERN URBAN LIFE. MANY LIVE A SUBSISTENCE LIFESTYLE, TRAPPING FURS IN THE WINTER, WHILE SOME OF THE MEN GUIDE OUTSIDE HUNTERS TO ADD CASH INCOME. BASED ON FINANCIAL WEALTH YOU MIGHT THINK OF THEM AS LIVING IN POVERTY, BUT THEY ARE SOME OF THE RICHEST PEOPLE I KNOW. WHILE EVERY VILLAGE NOW HAS A SCHOOL, MANY PEOPLE SPEAK A STRIPPED-DOWN ENGLISH, IGNORING WORDS THAT DO NOT ADD CLARITY. THEY ARE AMONG THE KINDEST AND MOST INDEPENDENT PEOPLE I HAVE EVER MET.

A Taste Of The Wild: German Sauerkraut Soup

This is a very simple recipe for a hearty soup that is perfect on blustery winter days. Each year the crew that I moose hunt with have our butcher not only carve out the best steaks and roasts, grinding some into incredible lean burger, but also take what is left to make a number of amazing sausages. This meal is made up of wild game Polish sausage and vegetables we grow at home.

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:
2 tablespoons vegetable oil 1 pound wild game Polish sausage (smoky Polish from the store will work) 4 celery stalks 4 carrots 2 small yellow onions 6 small to medium Yukon Gold potatoes 1/3 pound bacon 8 cups chicken broth or bouillon 1 quart sauerkraut, drained (we make our own which is sliced thicker than marketed brands) 2 cups white wine 1 can white beans 1 teaspoon each: smoked paprika, marjoram, thyme, basil, and garlic salt, plus salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:
In a slow cooker add the chicken broth, wine, and all spices, and turn on high.

Slice the bacon into ¼-inch pieces and begin to fry in a heavy pan. Chop half of the onion, celery, and carrots into tiny pieces and add to bacon. Fry about eight minutes and then add to slow cooker.

Add the vegetable oil to the same heavy pan. Slice the sausage into ¼-inch rounds and slice the other half of the carrots, celery, and onions into ½-inch pieces and brown for about seven minutes, then add to the slow cooker.

Cut the potatoes into 1-inch pieces and add to the slow cooker. Add the can of white beans and the sauerkraut to the slow cooker.

Cook on high for at least four hours. This goes well with crusty bread. Enjoy!

Rodger's Two Cents: Domestic Violence Awareness

October was Domestic Violence Awareness Month, and this is a subject that will forever be a huge part of me. As a child, I witnessed and was the subject of the kind of violence that leaves you scarred. Even with decades of public testimony, public awareness campaigns, and counseling, we still have people so self-absorbed that they feel it's their right to abuse those they pretend to love. All of us need to be loved and respected, but nobody is owed that engagement. Every day, with those we are close to, we earn it by trying to offer those in our lives more than we receive. After a while, it becomes clear that if you truly love and respect others, nobody is keeping score.

I wrote a book about this more than a decade ago. It has been too personal to share, except with a small handful of close friends and loved ones. But I think the book might just move the needle a degree or two in the right direction, so you can look for it in the near future.

Rodger That: Finding The Right Representation

To all the new writers out there, allow me to offer the most important lesson I've learned about this industry. The lesson was made clear last night when Carmen reminded me of a conversation we had over a light dinner and drinks at Alaska's famous Captain Cook Hotel.

After I quit political writing and turned to fiction, we wondered how long it would take to find the right literary agent to represent my work. I guessed four years; she guessed ten. That was nineteen years ago.

For the next ten years, we followed the traditional path of querying literary agents. Most of those offering their services were exceptionally bright young women with master's degrees in creative writing or literary arts. Many were struggling financially—income is often very thin for new agents. But they were committed to the craft of writing while also being passionate believers in their views of social justice. They wanted to represent books that advanced their beliefs.

I wish I had a dime for every time I heard, "I love the book, but…"

I never found an agent match that worked. So we refocused on learning enough about the industry to self-publish. Since then, we've published eight books. We've developed a following and made a lot of great friends in the business. We've solicited great professional help with editing, publicity, and social media. We've made a lot of mistakes—not in the stories, but in the business of books. We've continued to look for the right literary agent, one who has strong beliefs as we do but who focuses on the story set in the time and place that make it believable. The kind of agent who can teach, coach, and criticize all in the name of a better, more marketable story. The kind of story that grabs you and doesn't let go, even after you finish the book.

This past weekend, nearly two decades later, we were advised that one of the old-pro literary agents is offering to represent one of my books. It's a book that is semi-biographical, one that is so personally close that self-publishing would be a mistake.

More on the agent in a future post, but for today, allow me to emphasize the most important lesson I've learned about this business: Keep on writing and be patient.

Rodger Recommends: Calling Out Mistakes

Every writer makes mistakes. Most are simple spelling or grammatical errors. Even with a top-notch editor, they're almost inevitable. But what I want to address are the mistakes that light up an author's inbox: "The weapon your antagonist carried wasn't even built for 50 more years." "That style of dress was out of date for a century." "The ships couldn't have been carrying coffee up the Thames—the British drank tea."

One of the most noted mistakes came from film, not a book. In the remarkable film Back to the Future, Michael J. Fox's character, Marty McFly, played a 1958 model guitar in a story set in 1955. Critics are still writing articles chastising the film for the mistake. Yet for me, it did nothing to change my opinion—the film was exceptional.

Recently, New York Times bestselling author Sara Poole published the book Poison. Set in 1492, she twice refers to Joan of Arc as Saint Joan of Arc. Her sainthood wasn't honored until 1920. Critics and readers chastised Poole for the mistake, some commenting that it almost made the book unreadable. It was the kind of error any author enthralled with a story and character could make. While I don't know Sara Poole, I'm sure she appreciated that it was "almost" unreadable. It sold well.

Sometimes history is tweaked simply because the real thing is too difficult to explain. The Boston Tea Party is a great example. Book after book tells us that the patriots who dumped thousands of dollars' worth of tea into Boston Harbor were protesting an increase in tea taxes imposed by the British Crown. In reality, the protesters were objecting to the Crown exempting the financially troubled British East India Company from tea taxes, which would have given them a monopoly and destroyed the successful tea trade carried on by American colonial companies. American business owners led the protest. Black market importers of Dutch tea helped organize the uprising. For the public, the price of tea would have been dramatically lower. But when you're trying to gin up a revolution—or write about it centuries later—that's hard to explain. I use this approach and am still waiting for a reader to object.

I write both thrillers and historical fiction, and I work hard to make my stories authentic. I get emails pointing out discrepancies. About half of the criticism is valid. Some, like those noted above, are just wrong. At the time readers were insisting the British only drank tea, over 50 tons of coffee was being imported into England annually. Others, like one writer who pointed out an error in the Havana setting in my book Tempest North, are right. The setting came from a personal observation during a visit to Cuba many years ago—but the actual wharf wasn't built until 50 years after the story's timeline.

While many authors chafe under this type of criticism, I love it. It forces me to dig even deeper than I already do when researching a story. But more importantly, it tells me that readers are seriously engaged with the story—even readers with knowledge of the location, event, or crisis that underpins it. So far, I haven't heard that a mistake made a book unreadable. More often I hear, "The story really hit me, and I wanted to know more, so I did a little research on my own." Knowing a story both entertains and informs is very satisfying.

Keep on criticizing.

A Taste Of The Wild: Pheasant Calvados

Most of the recipes I post are for game that can be harvested in Alaska, although almost every recipe works with deer, elk, moose, etc. This month's recipe is special. First, it's for pheasant, and there are no wild pheasants in Alaska. Second, the recipe is perfectly suited for holiday dinners, and this year it will be my Thanksgiving meal.

As I write this, my son and I are only a couple of days away from a trip to Montana, my second-favorite state. We will spend a few days pheasant hunting and then wrap up the trip with a late fall fly-fishing trip. I know it's a bit presumptuous to plan on a pheasant dinner when we haven't even hunted yet, but Montana has never let us down.

INGREDIENTS

• 5 tablespoons unsalted butter

• 2 pheasants, quartered, with breasts split and thigh and leg portions separate

• 1 cup flour seasoned with salt and pepper

• 4 large shallots or 8 full green onions, finely chopped (½ cup)

• 4 small portobello mushrooms, sliced

• 1 cup apple cider vinegar

• 1 cup chicken stock

• ½ cup Calvados liqueur

• 1 green apple, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced

• ½ cup heavy cream

• ½ cup dried currants

• 2 teaspoons dried tarragon

PREPARATION
Dredge pheasant in seasoned flour, then cook the pieces in 3 tablespoons melted butter over moderate heat, turning once, until browned (approximately 8 minutes). Transfer to a plate and cover with foil.

Melt the remaining butter and add shallots/onions. Cook over moderate heat for 3 minutes. Add mushrooms and cook another 5 minutes. Add vinegar, chicken stock, and Calvados and cook 5 more minutes until slightly reduced. Scrape the brown bits from the bottom of the pan, then add apples and heavy cream and bring everything to a simmer. Add the pheasant, currants, and tarragon to the skillet and simmer for about 10 minutes. Add additional salt and pepper to taste.

SERVING
This goes well served over mashed potatoes. Layer pheasant pieces over potatoes and smother with the sauce.

I like to serve this with steamed carrots seasoned with melted butter and a little nutmeg.

This recipe scales well—for four pheasants, just double it and enjoy.

Rodger's Two Cents: Two Sides To Conflict

When you write thrillers, many including geopolitical intrigue and conflict between people and groups who both believe they are right, you develop a deep sensitivity to the level of disagreement in the world today. On the grand level of nation to nation, these conflicting beliefs can and do explode into armed conflict. Governments are not very good at debating their core principles or compromising their goals. There is an old saying that applies here: "One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter."

In my writing, I strive to introduce readers to both sides in a conflict. In today's world, that often means introducing three or four or more parties to a conflict. Modern media, especially social media, and artificial intelligence have allowed even small fringe groups outsized power to stir up conflict. As an author, my task is to somehow arrive at a solution to the conflict by the end of a book.

But in my country, the United States of America, we have twisted our political thinking to resemble geopolitical conflicts where we are so set in our beliefs that conflict is acceptable. The assassination of Charlie Kirk lit up my Facebook account with posts that even international political leaders defending their beliefs would reject. How can a citizen of a democracy based on liberty rejoice in the death of someone whose entire career was about encouraging debate among divergent views? One post from a conservative friend caught me completely off guard: "The left needs to remember that we are the side with the guns."

That statement is only true if the right believes that the solution to our disagreements is civil war. In the interim, the man who killed Charlie Kirk and the person who shot up the ICE facility in California prove that the other side also has a small arsenal. Are we so polarized that that is acceptable? My conservative friend's post only makes sense if we allow ourselves to slide into actual armed conflict.

One additional observation: in these examples, the weapon at the scene of the crime did not pull its own trigger. A warped human was responsible for the act. There is a lot of data indicating that the shooters were radicalized by obsessively following divisive media and posts. It would be interesting to know if they ever actually talked with people with divergent views. If they did, they might have at least understood the "other side."

I overheard a conversation a week ago that I appreciated. One person, a staunch progressive, was bemoaning the change in American politics. He noted that many of his liberal friends were "disturbed" by the changes in the country. "I'm willing to talk to conservative friends," he said, "but how do I explain what is happening to other progressives?"

The conservative at the table offered, "The country has been swinging left for three decades, longer than any period in our history without a swing the other way. Maybe it's just our turn."

I'm sure that didn't change the progressive's mind, but he nodded and smiled. They ordered another round. They were talking. 

Rodger That: The Outdoors As Therapy

Last month I featured a picture of my fans and others I invited on a float fishing trip on Alaska's famed Kenai River. The outdoors is like therapy for me—a place where rushing water, eagles in the cottonwood trees, and men and women focusing so intently on what's happening at the end of a fishing line that all of life's stresses disappear.

This month, allow me to introduce you to the extended version of that experience. Last weekend I returned from a nine-day fly-in hunting and fishing trip at the family cabin, two hours by air from our Anchorage home. We spent a week working on things—old-fashioned hammer and saw and wrench and screwdriver things. A fifty-year-old log cabin requires a lot of TLC. Trucks and boats that sit idle seven months of the year age quickly without maintenance.

For all of us, days of working with our hands, away from email, scheduled business meetings, clients, classes, kids' soccer games, and measuring life against a business plan worked even better than a day of fly fishing for resetting one's head, heart, and attitude. What I'd forgotten was the other part of a long wilderness trip.

We got lucky and harvested a nice bull moose on the third day. With about five hundred pounds of organic meat in the meat house, the pressure was off. All of us spent a great deal of time curled up in chairs or on the large couch under the picture window overlooking the river...reading. Getting lost in a story is almost as good as finding a wild place to sit and watch nature. Books from my Gritt Family and Team Walker series were passed from person to person. Other books—from science fiction to crime thrillers and even books recounting historical explorers' trials and tribulations—had their fans.

It was a great reminder of why I write. It's special to open a book and instantly be transported to an exotic place, with exciting people doing good and bad things we might never experience in person. Even more special is when those moments reading the works that authors spend so much time crafting are not interrupted by "regular life." One of my guests, a financial planner from California, offered, "I'd forgotten what it was like not to be wound tight."

I love to share my getaway strategies: reading, outdoors, fishing, and extended time away from normal civilization. All of us are better after we take time to recharge our batteries. I love my career writing stories that I know take my readers to places they might not even know exist. In a way, I share those moments away from everyday life with them, and that makes my life richer.

Allow me to thank Brad Thor for a copy of his latest book, Edge Of Honor, which he dedicated "To the patrons of Beaver Creek cabin." One of the best things about being part of the writing community is collecting signed copies of other authors' works for the cabin library.

Rodger Recommends: Bouchercon 2025

Those of you who follow my escapades know that Carmen and I were in New Orleans for one of the premier writer/reader conferences in the nation, Bouchercon. This conference, named after famed writer Anthony Boucher, one of America’s early mystery writer superstars, has been held every year since 1970. It’s an all-volunteer event held in a different city every year. New Orleans is one of our favorite cities to play in, so the trip had special value to us. Next year Bouchercon will be in Calgary. 

For a writer, the conference offers the opportunity to meet readers from across the nation and many nations around the world. I come away from every conference with ideas for new stories and feedback to make my writing better. Spending time with other writers, exchanging notes on what is going on in the industry and the hot new directions and topics is invaluable. Participating in panels gives a writer an opportunity for exposure and to share with the other writer panelists, writers and readers in the audience.

But what’s in it for readers? The international readers organization, Sisters In Crime, is always deeply involved in the conference. For an avid reader, the opportunity to meet favored authors and even to offer criticism and ideas is exciting. Feeling that those authors are listening is rewarding. If you read mostly techno-thrillers, or some other genre, a conference like Bouchercon offers exposure to new and different themes. You will meet authors who you might never have heard of, authors whose writing is as good or better than many big-name writers. And you will find that the big-name authors are normal people who really enjoy meeting the people that make their career possible, those of you who buy books.

At every conference I meet new readers. Often it is someone who will come up after a panel and offer, “that was amazing, I never considered your work.” I remember two women from Ohio who came up while I was signing books. Both only read romance and especially appreciate romantic mysteries. “We never thought about romance in a historical adventure,” offered one of them. “But we’re going to buy your Gritt Family books. Telling adventure stories that follow one family from generation to generation, must have a great love story or there won’t be a new generation,” offered the other. They were right. Everything I write includes a great love story. In life, worry, fear, excitement, adventure, exploration, and even pain is all more passionate and deeply felt when shared with those you care about. I’ve been told over and over that my adventures don’t fit any one genre. Perhaps that adds depth and intrigue to my stories.

So, here’s my recommendation: find a writer-reader conference and attend. Start with one close to home, then try a national conference. They are held from coast to coast. Think about it: unlike television or movie fans who rarely meet their heroes, writers go out of their way to meet, listen to, and celebrate their fans—you, the readers. If you choose Bouchercon, perhaps we’ll meet in Calgary.