Books by Eric Douglas

Thriller fiction and Non-fiction

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Going Black and White Underwater

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img_0456My first “real” exposure to photography was a black and white photography and darkroom class I took at Marshall. I had taken pictures before that, but never seriously. We all had those oblong cameras on our 6thgrade patrol trip to Washington DC that advanced the film with a thumb slide.

img_2840After college, I set up a darkroom in my mom’s house and continued shooting black and white for myself. I loved the control of the darkroom and the ability to make images look the way they did in my mind. I would literally spend hours in the darkroom, making prints and adjusting them and then watching them appear in the developer tray.

img_2833In 1998, I moved to California and mothballed my darkroom. I didn’t have the room for it, and I wasn’t shooting much at that time anyway. Later that same year, I saw a series of photographs by Ernie Brooks that blew me away. The show was made up entirely of underwater images in black and white. I was amazed by what I saw and I never forgot those photographs, but it never occurred to me to try black and white underwater photography for myself. (I admit, sometimes, I’m a little dense…)

img_2857Earlier this summer, I was scuba diving with my father in Summersville Lake when I realized that everything was monotone—in this case, shades of green. Suddenly a light came on in my brain that the photographs I was making, and everything around me, would look good in black and white. And a new project was born.

img_2850 My new darkroom comes in the form of my laptop computer. Fortunately, I don’t have to spend hours waiting on these images to develop and I don’t have to deal with the chemical smells. For me, the fun thing about these photographs is that they reveal a side to the state that most West Virginians never see. I think they look spooky and mysterious.

img_2864Many of my friends say they could never go scuba diving, for any number of reasons.  I feel sorry for them—they will never experience what I’ve been fortunate to see—but I do understand.

img_2794I hope sharing these photographs will shed a new light on the world beneath the surface of the water. You can find beauty in some of the strangest places. It just takes getting out there and opening your eyes.

Even in black and white.

Piloting our own way

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I’ve often wondered about the courage it took for the first European settlers to come to America and explore this country. Most of them came with nothing more than what they had on their backs. They knew there was no way to go “home”. It was a one way ticket to the New World and they had to make it or die trying.

Obviously, there were Native Americans here and those Europeans made some serious, arrogant mistakes in how they approached the land and the people. But I’m still impressed that settlers came at all, and even more impressed with the effort it took to head west.
It must have been an incredible challenge for the early explorers to set out with no roads and barely able to see the land ahead of them because of the miles and miles of forests. And then, in the distance through a break in the trees, they would have seen something like Pilot Mountain. And that marker would have given them the guide to keep moving forward.
Pilot Mountain’s Native American name was Jomeokee. It means “the Great Guide” or Pilot. The mountain stands as a reference point for travelers and can be seen for miles from where it rises 1400 feet above the relatively flat plain. Looking from the Little Pinnacle to the Big Pinnacle, feeling somewhat on top of the world (if still less than half a mile above sea level) I’m sure I was the only one of the hundreds of visitors yesterday wondering about the history of the place and what it says about our future.
Do we still have the same explorer spirit we had 300 years ago? Are we tough enough to do what those early men and women did? Honestly, I think so. That’s why we challenge ourselves with extreme sports and Ultimate Fighter Championships or competitions in front of cameras on reality shows. It’s how we push ourselves. We are missing real challenges so we compensate with self-imposed ones. As I’m writing this, the Chris Rice song “You don’t have to yell”came on Pandora. It sums up my thoughts on “reality” television and why I refuse to watch any of it. Those are just artificial challenges to make us forget that we are missing something.
Daily, I’m more and more convinced that we need to explore the world around us and see what sort of difference we can make for each other. When Neil Armstrong passed away recently, I wrote a blog about him and the idea of being challenged to do something bigger than ourselves.It would be easy to say, “Who will lead us?” and sit back and wait for one of our elected leaders to get us out of our easy chairs and inspire us the way John Kennedy did a generation ago.
But why wait? Why are we waiting for permission?  I just finished reading the book Tribes by Seth Godin. He talks about the mistake that many of us make, waiting for permission to take charge and lead. There isn’t anyone to give us permission. We just need to step up and do it.
Every day I see someone complain about something on Facebook. Often, those same people acknowledge that it is a “First World” problem, realizing what they are complaining about isn’t all that important.  Other friends talk about feeling lonely or bored while they sit at home or at a bar by themselves. It makes me sad to see them wasting talents and energy when they could be setting the world on fire with their energy and ideas.
That settler spirit is in all of us. We just need to set out and see what’s out there ahead of us. I’m not saying we need build a rocket to the moon or explore uncharted lands. We don’t need to pick up our families and move to a remote jungle to see if we can survive. There are lots of ways we can “explore” our own worlds: volunteering, teaching a class, reading to kids, inspiring others with our own experiences. It doesn’t matter.
It just takes that first step. Find a pilot in the distance to guide from and start walking.

If you want to talk about opportunities to get out and explore your world, join the group Adventures with a Purpose on FB.

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Going on Photosafari

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Just about every morning I take a walk in my neighborhood. The weather has been perfect lately and the fog has had a magical quality to it. I carry my iPhone with me because, well, because I always carry it. At this point, I think it’s actually part of my body. I’ve been trying to capture what the fog “looks” like, but really haven’t gotten anything that makes me go “That’s it!” Sometimes what we see with our eyes is different from what the chip in the camera is able to capture.

A few days ago, I decided it was time to venture out with my big camera, not just the one in my phone. I was specifically out to photograph something, but sometimes you see the coolest things while you are getting to your destination. It was time for a photosafari.
The word safari evokes mental images of stalking big game animals in Africa. Throw “photo” in front of it and most people will think of stalking those same big game animals with a camera instead of a gun. But a photosafari doesn’t have to involve a passport and an incredibly long flight to southern Africa. (I’ve made it twice and it’s painful.) No, a photosafari is something you can do in your own backyard, or just down the street. You never know, you might just discover things you never noticed before when you open your eyes and look around.
I’ve said it many times before, but generally I like photographing people. I love expressions and characters. That said, when I’m on a photosafari, I often find myself looking for the small things. I look for the things we wouldn’t notice normally. Not faces, but unusual patterns or textures in the landscape around me. And I like to get close to the small things to capture details.
My blog is called Adventure with a Purpose for a reason. When I started writing it, the purpose was a couple big projects I was working on that I felt people needed to know about. I wanted to show readers that the people of Russia were no different than you or me, and I wanted to show people about the serious problem with the Moskito Indians in Honduras as they dived for lobster.
Over the last year or so, I’ve been working to convince people that “adventures” don’t mean zip lining over the New River Gorge (although that looks like a LOT of fun). Adventures can be simply turning off the television, getting outside and exploring your surroundings.  They don’t require a passport or a road trip. West Virginia has amazing opportunities for adventures literally just down the road.
The important thing is to keep looking at the world around you, and to keep trying for that “perfect” fog picture. Or whatever else it is that flips your switch.
Just keep looking!

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Taking an Adventure

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I often talk about taking adventures and have often challenged my readers to do the same. But it occurs to me that I may not be clear about what I think an “adventure” is. An adventure is anything that gets me off the couch and out of the house, meeting people or discovering something new. It can be a big adventure or small one. Doesn’t really matter. For me, life is lived out there, not inside watching television.

I’m often asked how I have time to write books and all the other stuff I’m into. The short answer is I don’t watch much television. I’m not opposed to television and there are a few shows I do watch but in general very little of what is broadcast these days interests me. Most of what passes for entertainment is, in my opinion, the root of many of our problems. People watch the fighting and screaming and cursing on today’s “reality” shows and think that’s how they’re supposed to act. They believe that is “reality” and so it becomes reality.

I prefer a different reality.

I’m not trying to say that I’m out exploring every day or setting off on a new grand adventure each week. There’s no way to keep up that pace. I know that. I’m also not trying to say I think I am better than anyone else. I just choose a different way to spend my time. I make an effort to get out and see the world when I can. It’s amazing to me how much stuff is close by. You just have to look.

So, that’s my challenge to you. Find an adventure. Turn off the television and go get involved in something. Take on a new project.

If you’re in the Charleston area, check out the Creators Programat DigiSo. I’ll be putting on a presentation there next month on Self Publishing and there are lots of other programs coming up about lots of different topics, all geared to help people be creative.

If you’re not around here, or not interested in that, take a class in something you always wanted to do. Learn pottery, go on an archeological dig, learn to dive, take up photography, go spelunking, take on a project at your church. Whatever floats your boat, but get out there.

 I don’t know if this will work or not, but I’m going to set up a new Group on Facebook called Adventures with a Purpose. I’ll post these blogs there, but I’m also hoping people (YOU) will follow the page and post your own adventures. I want to create up a community of people who like to get out of their comfort zone a little bit. Maybe we can encourage each other take on new adventures. If you have an opportunity, post it. If you did something interesting, post it with pictures. You never know what that might spark someone else to try.

I hope to see you out there!

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The people you meet ARE the adventure

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Lately, I’ve been feeling a little frustrated with the attitudes of people in the news, on the internet and on the street. While I wasn’t in a bad mood, I probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind when I left the house yesterday. My plan was to interview two World War II veterans for my Voices of War documentary project as I drove away from Charleston.

My first interview was with Eugene Lusk of Herndon in Wyoming County. Mr. Lusk gave me directions to his house, but I was also following the map function on my phone. And that’s where I got in trouble. Rather than taking me to Herndon Road, the phone app took me to Herndon “Heights” Road. As you can probably guess, that means I ended up following a small winding road to the top of a mountain.

If you’re not familiar with southern West Virginia, I was on a road (barely) one car wide, hemmed in by tall trees. I couldn’t see anything around me and was getting pretty frustrated. Cell signal was pretty much nonexistent as well. I realized I was going to have to attempt retrace my footsteps and find my way back down the mountain. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it to my first interview at all. This was not doing anything for my outlook.

While I was pulled off to the side trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong, a car pulled up beside me. The driver had the passenger window rolled down. I told him who I was looking for. He said “Give me a minute. I’ll show you where you need to go. You can follow me.” Just a few minutes later, I was racing back down the hill following a man who had obviously driven this road hundreds of times. While I was late for my first interview, I still made it.

Sitting on the back porch of Mr. Lusk’s home, we had a good talk about his service in the Army during World War II. He was in a Port Battalion where he loaded ships headed to the D Day invasion; then he moved across the channel right just a few hours behind the first wave of men who hit the beach to unload the equipment and food that would help Patton push across Europe. Because I was late, we finished up our talk a few minutes after noon and he invited me to eat lunch. I declined at first, but finally relented. It was good, home-cooked food, beans, cornbread, greens, sauerkraut and wieners.

Mr. Lusk’s wife is suffering from dementia, but after 65 years of marriage Mr. Lusk said they still made a good pair. He was gentle when he spoke to his wife, helping her with her food when the nurse stepped away. He talked about the family they raised together. It made me smile to watch them, and I wanted to get out my camera, but I thought, “No, this is a private moment.”

As I left, I called my second appointment to make sure it was all right for me to stop by. He told me he had plumbers in cleaning up a problem in his home, but then said to come on by because they had gone out for lunch. I thought to myself, “When I’ve had plumbing issues, the last thing I wanted to do is speak with a stranger,” but he was kind enough to let me in. And I got to speak to Ira Richmond, a veteran who served his country, in the south Pacific this time, as a signalman in the Navy. His fellow sailors, including the Captain of the ship, called him “Pluto” for the name of the town he was born in Raleigh County.

All of the anger and hate in the news bothers me. It seems like no one knows how to be civil any more. Sometimes it feels like there’s no respect for people of different faiths, cultures or beliefs. We feel like it is our sworn duty to mock others who think something even marginally different than we do. No one wants to be nice to anyone for fear of…well I’m really not sure what they’re afraid of. But these three men, and their families, helped me realize it is still possible to be nice to each other. These men were just neighborly.

As I drove home, I realized my own mood had lightened significantly. I was honored to be in the presence of these two men, and graced by a favor done by a stranger. Every adventure doesn’t start with a passport. Sometimes they happen in your backyard. I’m sure I learned as much from this adventure as I have any other I’ve been on..

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