The reason I don't get much done anymore is that my mind is cluttered up with too many things, e.g., taxes, taxes, taxes, and more taxes. Tax time can become frustrating, but here it is again. And speaking of taxes, I'll be starting the next few blogs with a stanza from a poem about taxes, one of many sent by E-mail, and here is the first one: (and we'll eventually get to the punchline)
Tax his land,
Tax his bed,
Tax the table,
At which he is fed.
Anyway, I been working on my novel, Tom Anderson, practically rewriting it, but keeping the basic outline, and it's taking longer than it should. This one takes place in a small town along the Sevier River in Utah plagued by two bank robberies, romance, rivalry, and Indians way back in 1857. Now if I can just load it with enough suspense, action, love, and all that, it will be very promising. Here is another small portion of it for your titillation:
"I bet that was his girlfriend," Yonny said. "Hold on! It says Billy? Billy! He told us his name was Bobby, Bobby Watson. Maybe he stole that watch."
"Or he just lied to you," added Cadmus.
Jack and Tom pulled their hastily constructed gurney near the unconscious body, Jack telling the others, "We need a blanket to wrap around the poles for a bed, since we don't have any deerskin, and it'll be ready to drag him to Hell and back. I hope his horse don't mind pulling this contraption."
They finished loading the outlaw onto the travois, tying him down so he couldn't slide off, threw a buffalo robe over him, and he was ready to go.
"Tom, I think you should continue lookng for those other outlaws, since you're the only lawman among us," suggested Cad. "Who wants to go with him? I'll take this feller back to Hillside, but I'll need help."
Jack volunteered right away to help Cadmus, and Yonny said he would go with Tom.
"I'm going to offer a little prayer for this feller's health and we'll be on our way before we get snowed in," stated Cad.
"You ain't going to pray for him, are you? Hell, he doesn't deserve the Lord's help after robbing us twice," said Jack, climbing on his horse.
"You don't have to join in if you don't want," Cad said, "but I'm still praying for his soul. Take your hats off for a minute and look at the poor devil. Oh, Lord!" he began, " I don't know why we are trying to save ths evil feller, but I think it's the only human thing to do and the way You would want it if it was you praying. So, we ask you, dear Lord, to help this poor devil, Bobby Watson or Billy or whatever his name is, to live on and change his ways, and to help us catch those other outlaws who took the bank's money. We'll drag him through the snow to Hillside in the hope he'll live through the journey, and we thank You for this opportunity to save his life no matter how wretched, underhanded and crooked he is. We ask these blessings in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen."
That was from Chapter 9. Enjoy!