It’s strange how we develop our traditions. Though many times they are produced by our experiences, dreams, and happy moments, other times they are a product of necessity. Even our local celebrations can be spawned by a need or a difficulty which caused them to occur in the first place.
Take Beaver’s local Cow chip throwing event. To outsiders, it seems a unique and unlikely thing for folks to get all pumped up about. They wonder why people would want to handle bovine excrement in the first place. But that little event has at its heart necessity. The pioneers who settled this land had to find fuel for stoves to cook and heat their homes in the winter. Traditional forms of fuel, wood and coal, were few and far between out on the open plains. So, they hitched up the wagon and got the family spread out over the countryside, and they walked around picking up the cow chips which they could burn., tossing them into the wagon. Before the cow chips, they were picking up buffalo chips, or making hay-ties.
Thank you to those who have taken a chance on Margarita’s Dance. Inside myself, I feel this book has some of by best writing. Margarita’s Dance is now the ripe old age of four months old, and is now largely in the hands of the readers. I can and certainly will continue to promote here and there, but it’s kind of like preaching to the choir. My followers are the people who tend to read my books anyway. The only way my pool expands is if followers share it. I can annoy my pool of people to death by chanting “Buy my book,” or I can move on and leave it in their hands. And in all reality, a book really is in the hands of the readers. If they like it… if they review it… if they share it.. if it moves them to talk about it with others… then it will do just fine. If those things don’t happen; it was just a stop along the way. Word of mouth, viral excitement, friends telling friends – that’s what really sells books. Most of the books I’ve read have come from recommendations, at least for the initial experience with the writer.
Therefore, it is time for me to change focus and finish up something else. I’m not sure which book will be next. It will probably either be The Suicide Squeeze or For Love and Honor. But who knows? There’s Something About Henry just popped up. I was well on the way with The Ladder Climber and I suddenly stopped and went a different direction. I guess I’ll figure it out along the way.
Recently, a reader asked some questions about one of my earlier novels, and it kind of caused me to think about what has gone into some of the novels. I decided to throw this out as kind of a recap. Whispers In The Wind. Most of the locations in that book came from my childhood, and existed at the time I was growing up. We did sit on top of the old jail by the park as kids. I did love the hand mixed soda’s at the Triple A Drug Store. The Commercial Hotel was still open, taking lodgers, and serving as the bus stop for the town, but its cafe was closed. We had the Sunset motel and cafe at the top of the hill. The APCO and Shamrock gas stations were both open; as was the Hardware store. And of course, none of us could forget our Friday or Saturday nights at the Forgan Theater or Mrs. Hawes. The old Depot was turned into a fantastic steakhouse. Sadly, many of those places burned down in one fire or another.
We also had a few dances at the old Odd Fellows Hall (still kind of stands). I took most liberty with the existence of the railroad. It was gone by the time I came along. And the hardware store in my book is kind of a blend of the Hardware (destroyed with most of Main Street) and the Home Lumber building (also still kind of stands).
The homes for the Newburns and the McAllisters both had elements of my old home. In both Whispers In The Wind and There’s Something About Henry, I loosely based the Lazy B ranch on what used to be the T bar T (now the Wildlife Refuge).
Loving Deacon again used my home for the home of Deacon and Emily. The story involves a present day Forgan as well as the Forgan of 1917. With this span, I used historical references as well as more modern locations. I took some liberty with both. Many locations in the book were rural or out of country. There was an immense amount of research that went into the WWI and WWII scenes. Besides statistics and battles in the war, I looked at images, maps, and historical accounts.
In the Ladder Climber, the setting is focused in Colorado; Gunnison, Salida, Montrose, and Durango all play a part . Nick works for the worlds largest retailer (you figure that one out) and tours stores all over that area. Nick’s dream location was up the Quartz Creek Valley. It has long been my place of solitude, though it seems the secret got out and everyone goes there now. I’ve hiked up to the Roosevelt mine more times than I can count. The cabin where he meets Sarah for the ski trip was in the Wolf Creek area and I did find a cabin on a real estate site that suited as an image reference.
For The Blemished Rose, I used the Dallas/Denton area, as well as Galveston and Houston. All were places I’ve either lived or with which I’ve been familiar. When the places got bigger, I had a little more room to create restaurants and other businesses, although I usually start with something real and move on from there. For example, the shelter I used was real, but I used different names.
For Some Kind of Life, I again went back to the Panhandle, but since the story largely revolved around the school, and since I didn’t want to create any issue with my local administration or projection conflicts, I created the fictional town of Prairie Blossom. I have retained my rightful role of owner and mayor of Prairie Blossom in some other stories I have in development as well.
Margarita’s Dance is set on a ranch in the Panhandle and in Galveston. The ranch is largely fictional with pieces picked up here and there. In Galveston I created two fictional restaurants and one bar. I usually do some research by reading about local places and looking at images. Even when creating some thing which is pure fiction, there is a lot of research for me. In scene where Dave watches the grey heron, I can’t tell you how many pictures and videos I looked at before I wrote the passage.
You know, it’s always hard to toss that finished manuscript out there, but I’ve done it… seven times. Seven books. Seven novels (Novel – a piece of long narrative in literary prose.…meant to entertain and tell a story). I’m not sure I ever thought I’d say that. Seven times I’ve tossed out pieces of me for someone to like or not like. Seven times I’ve opened up to success or ridicule. Seven tales spun from within, shared with the world. Thanks for coming along on the journey.
I guess that was a bit of a writing ramble, and I guess I have my title. If I lost you after the first paragraph or two, well… you’re gone so there isn’t anyone to talk to about it. If I didn’t lose you after the first couple paragraphs, you have some idea of the background for each novel. Hey, thanks for sticking around, and thanks for reading along. I’ll see you down the trail.
