Kevin Robinson's Blog

I suspect that the only other way to concoct a great adventure novel like The Shadow Runner (about a bright and curious young rich girl swept downward into a Victorian/Steampunk world of thieves and assassins) would be to lock Charles Dickens, Ursula Le Guin, and Elizabeth Moon in a room until they hashed something together upon pain of death. Since that’s not likely, it’s a good thing we have K.J. Fieler!

Ada, the daughter of an upper-class couple, is the model of an up-and-coming young lady with a good nature and a promising future…until she is kidnapped by the very “ghost” she’d tried so hard to convince herself could not possibly exist. Her bright future seems to be gone and her survival depends completely on how fast and how well she learns to fight, steal, and kill. Ada maintains character and honor in the midst of horrific misfortune…my favorite kind of hero.

I enjoyed every page of this page-turner and I’m sure most adventure readers will too.

Everybody has one, right?�� You know, a thing?�� Your own thing. That thing that makes you special. Many of us grow up believing wholeheartedly that our special thing is right out there over the next hill, around the bend, just out of reach, and all we���ve got to do is get busy and look for it.�� Except, for some of us. ��After a mad dash out from under our parents��� oversight, our tail wagging like a puppy off leash in the park, we can���t find hide nor hair of our thing.�� Frankly, this lack of

I can���t remember what my original working title was for my third ���Stick Foster��� mystery novel, but in the early ���90s, my second editor at Walker & Company in New York said: ���A Matter of Perspective. That���s what we���ll call this manuscript.����� Okay then.

It was a good title, really (probably better than the one I can���t remember!); but, the title comes up a lot in real life conversation whenever Ellie and I ��rediscover that our POV (point of view) can and will trip us up if we aren���t careful.

I'm using this blog to create a novel new annual awards show. The nature of a blog is, of course, that you can create just about anything you want. But, in real life, the Annual Scammy Awards isn't very likely to take off as a real thing. I know that sounds negative, but in order to get that much media attention, especially trying to get a television network to host such an event, I'm fairly certain that I don't have a snowball's chance in hell. In real life, it's all about the sponsors. If you

​After spending the first forty years of my life in a right-wing conservative Presbyterian church, I’ve spent the last twenty years sorting out the lessons of Jesus from the lessons taught by my church. Over those forty formative years, I moved around a lot, and so, joined nine different congregations in that denomination. I think it’s accurate to say that I experienced a pretty fair cross-section of the bottom-line-denominational-dogma; and, lest you pre-judge me as a rebel and a

���After spending the first forty years of my life in a right-wing conservative Presbyterian church, I���ve spent the last twenty years sorting out the lessons of Jesus from the lessons taught by my church. Over those forty formative years, I moved around a lot, and so, joined nine different congregations in that denomination. I think it���s accurate to say that I experienced a pretty fair cross-section of the bottom-line-denominational-dogma; and, lest you pre-judge me as a rebel and a

Life, the Universe, and Everything is both fascinating and entertaining. This is especially true when I stop focusing my attention on the ���bad��� things over which I have no control. I suffer emotionally, only when I am disgruntled over things I think should be different than they are. The state of ���how things are right now��� is called: ���reality.��� When I argue with reality, I accomplish two certain results: (1) I lose; and, (2) I become more disgruntled over losing an irrational dispute I had no

I seldom shout. In fact, since breaking my neck in 1975, and losing over half of my normal lung capacity, I can’t shout “Come in!” loudly enough for the pizza delivery guy to hear me fifteen feet away through my apartment door. It’s just a scientific fact. And yet, nearly everyone who has had a passionate conversation with me has said to me, at one time or another: “Stop shouting.”

Yesterday as we sipped our morning coffee in bed, Ellie and I were discussing one of our morning book

I seldom shout. In fact, since breaking my neck in 1975, and losing over half of my normal lung capacity, I can���t shout ���Come in!��� loudly enough for the pizza delivery guy to hear me fifteen feet away through my apartment door. It���s just a scientific fact. And yet, nearly everyone who has had a passionate conversation with me has said to me, at one time or another: ���Stop shouting.���

Yesterday as we sipped our morning coffee in bed, Ellie and I were discussing one of our morning book

Last night was the worst date night ever. Oh, my date was my best friend ever, but our movie choice was one for the record books. Manchester by the Sea was���by far���the most depressing, soul-crushing, and slit-your-own-wrist movie either of us has ever seen in our combined 130-year history of movie theater experience. All the TV trailers suggested it was going to be a redemption story about two family members who shore each other up when life goes south. If it���s not already too late, please