Writer's Litmus Test

This is one of the most “amazing” things, to me, and I have never seen it. Well, I see this picture just as you do and it is still amazing, but to see it “live” could only be a guess at its magnificence. I wonder sometimes that what we think we see is not what we are looking at.

Nope, this is not a travel post. It is a writing post. OK, I will try to unravel my direction here. I was sitting in Barnes and Noble (one of my favorite places) and while I was sitting in one of the three available reading chairs, thumbing through a “writing” book. I looked up and thought: “Look at all these books”. What must have been going through the minds of all these people? Somebody had to write each and every one of those books. I wonder how many authors had “hands on” experience with each topic written about in thousands, perhaps millions, of words on all the pages in that building.

One of my worries about writing is having the correct information and background. That you have to be an expert about everything you write. That it is the truth. Maybe not completely but at least be authentic and true to the history of the article. I don’t think I am alone in this thought or there wouldn’t be so many “how to“ reference books on the market. My true nature, I think, is to not just make shit up but sometimes I get enjoyment out of doing just that. I am a great fan of the old TV series Twilight Zone so I know how important it is that a person be careful to keep the distinction between fact and fantasy clear in their mind.

But would anyone want to hear all that? I don’t know. I do. Maybe. There are a lot of other rules. Another post yesterday alluded to maybe rules are just guidelines anyway. I like that and maybe fact from fiction is just a guideline too. I suppose the reader will eventually let you know, I guess everyday is a survey for response within its self. Everyone has their own aspirations whether it is writing or reading or ‘rithmetic and how they apply to society and an audience is varied as there are number of personalities.

I bought that book. During one of the segments, the author was listing a few guidelines or hints that would indicate the readers’ interest or aptitude for being a writer. One of the things he mentioned that a writer, as a youngster, as having the characteristics of a storyteller. I am not sure I am a storyteller so I changed the interpretation of what he was saying to someone, as a youngster, enjoyed to “play-like”. Did you ever use the phrase; I am going to “play-like” I am a pirate, or let’s play school and I will be the teacher. Some of you may have read a past post of mine, Oh Me,,No Wii , where Davy Crockett and I were great partners in adventure. Suddenly I remembered, I had been to the Grand Canyon, but it was in Nacogdoches county, close to a small community called Traywick. Which incidentally, is where Hank and Billy Ray (Pork Chops and Collard Greens) used to play ( refered to as Satersville ) when they were little boys at the pulp wood yard. Back to the Grand Canyon story. This was the REAL Grand Canyon. It had to be. It was a deep gully and had a small stream running down the middle of it, and I had a miner’s pan, which was actually the top of an old fashion coffee can, and I sifted through tons of ore panning out the golden nuggets that were going to make me rich and I would buy a horse, no,, a whole western town, and I would trade it all for a new Roy Rogers guitar with an authentic rope strap and real plastic guitar pick with a picture of Roy and Dale on it.

While at the bookstore, I looked and looked for a book on “Writer’s Litmus Test”. I didn’t find one so I made up one of my own. I took it twice to see what it would tell me. I passed so from that I decided: I am gonna be a writer…

Not really just “play-like”.

I ..Went to Luckenback, Texas.....

Intricate Beauty

“Down Here In Texas”

It has been over twenty years since I first met these fellows. Do you ever get tired of hearing someone from another country or state proclaim, “Well, the way we do it back in,,,Ya Ya Ya”. Well, I don’t know any other way to put it. Down here in Texas, which comes from the Indian word Tejas, meaning “friendly people”, if ya like somebody, it usually lasts. It don’t mean you have to like ‘em right off. Ya kinda have to sit back and see if they are going to be all “hat” and no “cattle”. Don’t usually take too long. What a person don’t say, but what they do, will wind up telling the tale.

What? Hell, no. They ain;t real people. They are made up. Larry McMurtry made ‘em up. Yep, but you know what? They are as fresh gritty in my mind as the dust they stirred up going from Texas to Montana. Cap’em Gus McCrae and Cap’em Woodrow Call. I ain’t trying to “hawk” this book. The Pulitizer Prize has already done that. If ya haven’t already and don’t want to read it, knock ya’ self out. I won’t suffer from that. I already read it and watched the movie several times. One of those times was a long weekend and my youngest daughter was home from school. At my insistence, she watched it with us. It was her first time to see it. She had not read the book at that time. Not going to tell you how it ends but she looked at me with tears in her eyes and paid me a compliment.

“Daddy, you are a combination of Gus and Call rolled up in one.”

At first, I took it as a compliment, but “The Boss let out a grunt and a groan, with a roll of her eyes, which threw me into a state of wondering. I wondered if it was Gus’s charming ways or Call’s steel rod stubbornness she might have been thinking about. That still ain’t the point. The point is some writers can paint such a clear picture of who the characters are. Gus and Call and all the other members of the The Hat Creek Cattle Company came to life on the pages. You could “hear” what they were thinking.

“The Last Picture Show” was the first in a series of four, (I think there were only four, well Rino Ranch might make five), but the characters lived their whole lives throughout these books. I am not sure how McMurtry does it. I read his books. I re-read with just the intent of sneaking a peek at how he does it. I still can’t see a definite formula for his method, but something works.

If I could paint just a fraction of the degree of character believability that McMurtry does, then ,, nope I would try to do a little better, but at least I would have the satisfaction that I was progressing. I see these characters in some of your writing out there. I take enjoyment in those characters and I hope you don’t mind if I look at them and say. “What are those characters thinking?”

Read by Mr. Lee,, Bushy Beard's great, great, great, great grandson. "Pedro's" kinfolks is in blue shirt.

A Repost from Pre Blog Fit

The Storm


His restless sleep had been utility at best. The seven year old was curled up on the sofa with his head in his “BigPaw’s” lap. The kerosene lamp that had been the young boys great grandmother’s was sitting behind the glass fire screen, giving off a soft yellow glow that barely gleamed across the vaulted den. They had been watching the old black and white, battery powered, portable TV while the lightning and wind interacted with tenacity for most of the night. The 52 inch wide screen had been “unlatched” from its connection much earlier in the evening. A thunderous explosion had turned the room into a cave.

A seven year old can understand much more than us more wiser grownups would like to admit. The TV news had been full of “film at ten o‘clock” moments. How do you explain to a youngster who has been taught the rules of kindergarten that when you get older, it seems that it is ok to just throw those rules aside.

“Big Paw, is the rain over”? He sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked over to the window to look toward the road.

“Everything is OK, Big Boy, we are safe now”. I walked over to where he was standing and put my hand on his bushy head and jostled him back and forth. He look up and gave me a big smile. I smiled back to reassure his still fretful thoughts.

“It has finally stopped raining”. They could see the flimsy brightly colored signs along the roadside. The wind was whipping them back and forth. My misleading answer weighed heavy on my shoulders as the true thought raced through my mind. …The real storm is on the horizon..

Ghost From The Past

(Photo of watercolor by My Daughter for my birthday)

1959 Chevrolet Apache 1/2 Ton Pickup

I took my driving test in this truck.  Appriox 40 years later sold it to a gentleman who wanted to restore to factory conditions.  He drove it onto a trailer and took it home.