Photographic Prints

After putting it off for years I have finally posted some images on Fine Art America. This is thanks to encouragement of  a very talented photographer and friend. From everything I have heard about them they do top quality work and their canvas prints are extremely well done. Knowing my friend Eric Smith if they meet his standards then it is worth the money. He has been running a very successful Portrait Studio for years. We worked together many years ago in Germany where we basically made up the entire photo section along with one other photographer. If you have seen an image of mine that isn't up yet and would like a print please let me know and I will try to get it posted as quickly as possible. Also take the time to check out Eric's work at the same time. He uses a technique that produces some very interesting pieces.

My friend Robert Bidinotto has started a new website that he calls The Vigilante Author. He has some very informative articles about the independent publishing process and market.

Texas, BBQ, and knives.

I was headed west on I-20 between Shreveport, Louisiana and Dallas, Texas this morning when I decided to stop at a new truck stop at exit 523. Rumor had it that the guy who used to have the knife shop in the TA truck stop in Terrell, TX. had moved over to this new place. Since he has always been fun and informative to talk to, and he puts good edge on my work knife it made sense to check it out. Trouble was they also had a BBQ restaurant there too. Now I do have a weakness to slow smoked Texas style BBQ, so a plate of ribs made it out to the truck. Over the years during our conversations I have mentioned my writing from time to time. Well today he asked where he could find it, so I got a copy of Rambling and signed it for him. My only request was that he keep it on the counter and if people ask that he tell them about it and give them my card. So with some possible good advertising going, a plate of ribs for dinner and a sharp edge on my knife I left and headed west. The name of the truck stop is Dukes Travel Plaza and though the parking is a little tight the food is good and the people are friendly. If you stop by there be sure and say hi, to Jerry Bates at The Knife Shop.
If you are looking for a new indie author who ranks up there with Thor, Flynn, and Clancy check out the new release Hunter by Robert Bidinotto, it is an excellent thrill ride full of secrets and surprises.

Vacation?

For most of the last week my wife and I have been working on a log cabin on our ranch. It has been a lot of work. At times we have been using the same tools that our ancestors would have used. One of which is a draw knife. This is a piece of metal sharpened on one side with handles on both ends. The purpose of this implement is to skin the bark off logs that are going to be used in building. It is a long and arduous task using a lot of arm and back muscles. Some of which I forget that I even had. Since the cabin has a wood burning stove as the main source of heat getting the firewood stacked is another chore that needs to be done before winter sets in. If it doesn't get done while I am home then my wife would have to do it while I am on the road. While these chores have gained me points with my wife they have also shown me just a taste of what it must have been like to have lived in my grandparent's  time. My maternal grandfather moved from Kansas to the plains of eastern Colorado to start his own farm. He built a sod house on the property and it was in this structure that my mother, uncle, and one of my aunts were born. Lumber was expensive and very hard to come by, so settlers used squares of sod to build with. The image is of my grandparents in front of the Soddy. Since the two children are identified as my Aunts Mary and Margaret I am guessing that it must have been taken around 1915 or so. The date on the edge is the date that it was copied. This is the type of structure I used as a refuge in the short story "Storm" in Rambling.

Promises.

Not sure where this weeks blog will go. It is a time of reflection and hard work. We have two houses on our property, one stick built and one log house. Over the years we have found so many problems with the main house that we are going to move into the log house till we can save the money to either completely rebuild the main house or replace it in the future. Some of the people whom my wife hired to do the work based on bids are dragging their feet. It seems they under bid the project and took the money. What happened to the days when a persons word was their bond? I have run into the same types of things happening in the publishing world too.

Tony Hillerman country.

Ever since I picked up my first Tony Hillerman novel I was hooked. His stories about the Legendary Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn and Sergeant Jim Chee were a lot of fun to read, or listen to on audio books. One of the many things that made his books stand out in my opinion was the way he treated the Native American characters in work. They had problems just as any of us do, some were looking to the Traditional Ways to find the answers while others didn't believe in them. Leaphorn was the modern policeman using all the technology and psychology available to solve the crime, while Chee was a Traditionalist and used his knowledge of the Navajo traditions to do the same. Along the way were characters with all the flaws of mankind. Then he told us about the landscape and the sounds of the desert Southwest as it is today. One of the reasons for this post this week is because I am in the area of the Big Res, along I-40. I love this part of the country but it is now a little sad because Tony Hillerman is gone. There will be no more adventures with Jim Chee and Joe Leaphorn, and that is a reason for some wistful thoughts of the books already read. Even the Navajos, Hopi, Zunis and Apaches miss him. I only hope that in my writing I can do justice to the people I write about as well as he did.

Southerners who supported the Union?

While doing some research this morning I asked someone for some help since they were more familiar with a specific area and its history. The result was eye opening to say the least. I wanted my main character to have come from the Shenandoah Valley region of Virginia after the Civil War. Because of the time frame involved he needed to be the son of an anti-secessionist Southerner. Thinking that they would have been a very small group it was amazing to find that there were a whole lot of them. As I found out from this site Southern Unionists Chronicles. The whole story got started with two main ideas, a Southern Gentleman sitting in his study reading about the travels of Lewis and Clark, and being taken by the descriptions of the horses of the Nez Perce, and the idea of breeding such horses at extremely high altitudes to increase their stamina. Since the breed was almost destroyed after Chief Joseph's famous attempt to get many of his people into Canada in 1877 it was a matter of getting the details worked out to cover the time gap. Which is why it is the son who is the main character and who came west after his father lost everything to both the Confederacy and later to the Carpetbaggers who came south after the war. Now if I can just get the rest of the story to come together it could be very interesting to write.

Her real name.

This is a rough time of year for me. It is nearing the anniversary of the events that are recounted in Jo Anna. The story came about because of a writing exercise on one of the Authors boards I used to have time for. Someone read a scene that I had written for the exercise and asked me if it was true. When I told the board that it was indeed true everyone encouraged me to tell the whole story. Originally the scene dealt with a soldier standing tall and proud in the sunshine. His uniform is immaculate and he looks every inch the soldier, from the soles of his paratrooper boots to the Beret on his head. On closer inspection the reader learns that there are tears streaming down his cheeks. In front of him is a casket and inside is a female. He yearns to once more touch the hair like spun gold, see the mischief in her twinkling eyes and to feel her kiss once more. To once more hear the music of her voice as she calls him Daddy.

I once was that soldier and stood that watch. When I decided to write that story there was no way that I could bring myself to write it in the first person. So I changed the names and wrote it from the outside looking in. It is sometimes said that a writer should write what they know. Well I knew that story intimately. From being the grandfather who sits in terror watching his granddaughters get their first riding lesson, to the soldier standing in the California summer sun feeling as if the world around him had disappeared and only he alone stood there watching his daughters funeral. In truth there were a lot of people who were touched by the joyous spirit of that little girl not just this writer. They all tried to help ease the loneliness that followed and I thank them for that. It was July 15^th 1980 when it all happened and her real name was Jean Marie.