This serial is meant to be the prologue for my next book. And it wasn’t a bad hook, right? I know you’re dying to know what happened in Alaska, so don’t worry… I won’t leave you hanging. But the vision for my next novel centers around adventures in Glacier National Park—specifically, the next visit with Sharkbait and Happy, with flashbacks to the stories and lore of Dad’s previous trips that always hovered around our home.
But first, some additional clarity on my original disclaimer. This book was meant to be narrative non-fiction. A story that tells what happened, with some drama and flair thrown in. But some people (cough cough, my sister, cough cough) have challenged how much embellishment there is. This style of writing typically offers flexibility in style, structure, and storytelling techniques, including common literary devices such as scene-building, dialogue, suspense, pacing, and character development. But if those devices cross a line, it becomes Fictionalized or Fiction instead. Right now, I believe this lies somewhere in the middle, perhaps more fictionalized than the non-fiction authorities would approve. When the final book does come out, we’ll make sure to get the facts or genre right with an appropriate Forward. But for now, I hope you enjoy it regardless.
Now, back to center. I wrote this serial as a Prologue for the novel, one that sets the stage before a time jump into the actual story. I like the use of a Prologue, as it establishes characters and motivations so the story can dive in headfirst to the actual adventure. It is a format that worked well for me in Hello My Name is Sharkbait. And if it ain’t broke, I say don’t fix it.
I think you all deserve this book idea as it was originally intended. Dad’s stories have lived on as legend among family and friends for decades, and I believe they can inspire a new generation of would-be mountain climbers and armchair adventurers. To be determined as to what genre his storytelling falls into, but I’m comfortable saying that it is also somewhere between truth and embellishment. Sorry, Dad 🙂
My editor once told me to be watchful of false peaks. Arcs that build momentum but lead nowhere. That analogy fits a bit too close to home in a hiking story. So, without further ado…
If you’re just joining us or need a refresher, you can read all parts of the series here.
Chapter 5 – In Case of Emergency, Go to Alaska
“Okay guys, I think we’re all set!” Devorah’s bubbly voice called from the kitchen. Only an hour had passed, and we had all been furiously researching and coordinating details for a last-minute pivot to the exciting idea of Alaska.
“I was able to rebook our flights, we leave for Anchorage at 9 p.m. tonight,” she added. My sister had the uncanny ability to take something logistically difficult and make it sound like a breeze. I’m sure it was preceded by a lengthy chat with Delta customer service, some heavy persuasion to bend the rules, and a little flirtatious spirit. But all we heard was the desired outcome. A plan was in motion. We were set.
“Great!” I added. “And I just got off the phone with Glacier Park reservations. They were able to cancel our stay at St. Mary Lodge, but just rebooked it for next year so I don’t lose the deposit.” It was a brilliant call by the reservations agent, saving me $500 and securing a return to the national park before we’d even left for Alaska.
“We aren’t going to be so lucky with Granite Park Chalet,” yelled Dad from the bedroom upstairs. Then, as he walked down to us, “they have an iron-clad cancellation policy that we are long past. But it’s okay, they are hurting from this too and I don’t mind the donation, given the circumstances.”
Dad had a soft spot in his heart for the owners of the chalet. It was one of a series of structures built by the Great Northern Railway at the turn of the 20th century, enticing hikers to travel hut-to-hut and feel like they were vacationing in the Swiss Alps. Now, thanks to years of mismanagement, forest fires, and crumbling infrastructure, only two of the original nine remained. A world without those backcountry cabins would change the park forever, so I wasn’t shocked he’d shrug off the money. You’re a good man, Dad, I thought.
Within an hour, we also managed to book an Airbnb south of Anchorage, rented a minivan, and drafted a hiking schedule around Chugach National Forest and Kenai Fjords National Park. During my limited time of research, Instagram’s algorithm had already started screaming at me not to miss the latter.
After a quick trip to REI for some warmer-weather gear, just in case, we were dropped off at the airport and ready for anything. Nine hours later, we pulled into a beautifully rustic cabin near Mount Alyeska around 3 a.m. and retreated, exhausted, to our beds.
Sleep came minutes after closing my eyes. When I wake up, I thought, new adventures await.
But wait, there’s more! Join me tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of this serial. If you like what you’ve read, let me know. If you have a story you need included in the book, share it below! And if you still (somehow) have no idea what all this is about, just buy a copy of Hello My Name is Sharkbait already.
Hello Neiman!
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