Announcement

I will be signing and selling my three books tomorrow night at the Mesa, AZ,  2nd Friday Night Out event. It should be an exciting evening, and I'm hoping to finally get started on selling in the Phoenix Area. It's taken me much too long to get into the swing of this business, but I think I'm finally getting past the hurdle of licensing and my reluctance to enter into it wholeheartedly, etc. Check out the Mesa website here 2ndfridaynightout.com . There should be a lot of traffic and since the emphasis will be on books, it may turn out very well.

The only problem is, we have to stay awake beyond 10 PM, something we're not accustomed to, so we decided to get a motel for the night. Ye gods! It's only forty or fifty miles down the road, but there goes the profit if we should.be so lucky to sell that many books. I tell you, there's a negative side to everything. My conscience is talking to me, saying "Quit your damn whining and get on with it!" All right, already! I will, I will. Ahem.

More on Ella Wheeler Wilcox

It was my better half's sudden love of poetry that made me aware of Mrs. Wilcox. The wife and her daughter were antiquing in downtown Glendale last Saturday when the wife purchased on impulse a book entitled Maurine and other Poems and also buying a book by Sinclair Lewis titled Free Air. Maurine and other Poems was published around 1888 the year of copyright and Free Air in 1919, both first editions as far as I can determine and probably not worth much.

Anyway, I thumbed through Maurine and read a couple of poems and I liked them, one called "The Story" reminds me of "Jack and Jill Went Up the Hill:"

They met each other in the glade--
  She lifted up her eyes;
Alack the day! Alack the maid!
 She breathed in swift surprise,
Alas! alas! the woe that comes from lifting up the
  eyes.

The pail was full, the path was steep--
  He reached to her his hand;
She felt her warm young pulses leap,
  But did not understand.
Alas! alas! the woe that comes from clasping hand
  with hand.

She sat beside him in the wood--
  He wooed with words and sighs;
Ah! love in spring seems sweet and good,
  And maidens are not wise.
Alas! alas! the woe that comes from listing lover's
  sighs. 

And etc., etc.

Ella Wheeler married Robert Wilcox in 1884 and lived in Connecticut and then on to NYC and then back to Conn.
They built two houses on Long Island Sound and several cottages known as Bungalow Court where they held literary and artistic gatherings. They had one child, who died shortly after birth. She and her husband became interested in the occult and made a pact to communicate with each other whoever died first. It was Robert who died first, but he never contacted her and she couldn't understand why. Hmm-mm.  I think she needed a Sylvia Browne to tell her why or explain it to her. Maybe she just wasn't seeing the light.

She wrote over twenty books of poetry and her autobiography over the years. One of them is "Custer" and another is "Hello, Boys!" about the First World War, and others covering Power, Progress, Sentiment, Optimism and Passion and still others on various subjects. 

I never much cared for poetry, not even Leaves of Grass, but I found the poems in Maurine easy to read and understand for the most part and the time spent was well worth it. More of them can be found on Project Gutenberg. Photo of Mrs. Wilcox from Wikimedia Commons:

Reference: Wikipedia.org

Poetry Raises Its Arrows

You never can tell when you send a word,
   Like an arrow shot from a bow
By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind,
   Just where it may chance to go.
It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend.
   Tipped with its poison or balm,
To a stranger's heart in life's great mart,
    It may carry its pain or its calm.

The above is the first verse of a poem titled "You Never Can Tell" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. I can never tell whether or not she was writing this about writing or some other subject, because in her second verse she writes about doing an act, sowing a seed, and dropping an acorn. In the final verse she poetizes about thoughts, airy wings, the law of the universe "And they speed o'er the track to bring you back, Whatever went out from your mind."

When I push my arms against the desk and roll my chair back, there comes to mind the thought that she was writing about the effect that words have on whoever they land and by sowing seeds and dropping acorns, great things may show up in the fertile minds of those who master the art of wordry. She says, "You never can tell what your thoughts will do, in bringing you hate or love;  for thoughts are things and their airy wings are swifter than carrier doves." 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox was born in 1850 in Johnstown, Wisconsin, and died in 1919 of cancer. She is famous for her poem "Solitude", the opening lines being "Laugh, and the world laughs with you, Weep, and you weep alone." I should say those lines are more famous than she is, since whenever they're used they are not credited. She is also "famous" for another poem, "Custer," or she may have been for awhile when it was first published or she may be still among her admirers.

"Custer" is a long poem, broken down into three "books" with many verses and she eloquently reviews his life and sudden death in the massacre at the Little Big Horn. A fine poem.

More on Mrs. Wilcox in the next post.

Salons, Saloons, Bars, Inns, Roadside Stops

The local saloon plays a big part in cowboy movies no matter what their origin or name with all the rootin', tootin' and shootin' that takes place in them, and in my novels a lot of the action takes place in the saloon or pool hall. So, when I ran across Saloons of the Old West by Richard Erdoes, I had to have it. The narrative is 251 pages written in double column on each page, and has a three-column section for the Notes, Bibliography, Acknowledgements and Index from page 255 to 277. It can't help but be interesting and enervating and packed with useful information and history.

So far, I've read only the first three chapters covering some of the history and development of that place we stop in to have a cool drink now and then, or oftener, and a good meal. I can barely frame a picture in my mind of some of the earlier "saloons" that are described, having only the bare necessities for a thirst-buster made out of who knows what and whatever else the seller thinks will make it taste good or better. When the old cowboy says, "Name yer pizen," that may have been just what it was.

Too bad I can't devote myself to a sit-down-and-read-all-of-it-in-one-sitting event, but there are just too many other things that must be done. Right now, I have to get ready to go to downtown Glendale for something or other, but I am anxious to get back to the book.

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!!

Blog to follow

A couple of weeks ago, I received an e-mail notification from Elaine Ash announcing her blog "Ashedit" at  ashedit.wordpress.com. Of course, I took a look at it and am now following it as time permits. She covers short story writing, but concentrates on crime and the more far out subjects, fantasy, horror, etc., and has interviews and other info on writers, writing, etc. Her latest post is about H. P. Lovecraft where she interviews the editors of Historical Lovecraft, Tales of Horror Through Time, Sylvia Moreno-Garcia and Paula R. Stiles.

Ninety-five per cent or more of my time dwells on writing westerns, but I do read on other subjects from time to time and "Ashedit" is one of those where I will be spending some of my time. If you write crime, horror, scifi short stories, take a peek if you haven't already.  

Wedding

Yesterday, we attended a wedding outside in the backyard under the citrus trees next door. The weather was nice, not too hot yet with a little breeze, perfect for an outdoor event. The people getting married were two former marrieds ready to tie the knot again. It started with a nice buffet of an egg casserole (delicious), fruit salad, nuts, and various sweet buns and cake-like bread accompaniments and attended by about thirty-forty friends and family of the principals.

As soon as everyone had filled their desire for food, the music was stopped and the ceremony commenced with the pastor (or preacher, bishop, reverend, father, brother) standing with the two under a sign on a tree that read "The knot-tying tree." By the way, the tree trunks, which are normally painted white to protect the bark from the sun, were painted with added black polka dots, the theme of the party. My great-grandson said they look like cows. Where was I? Oh, yes, the man of the cloth read off the where's and what-for's to the bride and groom, and the bride and groom read off their vows to each other, and the preacher pronounced them man and wife.

The Groom kissed the Bride and the music started up again with a slam bang song sung by the old cowboy himself, Gene Autry, "Back in the Saddle Again," which I thought was quite appropriate. The champagne was poured and the party really commenced. We went on home and my wife said, "Nice little ceremony," to which I said "Uh-huh."  

Publicity for the Western (?)

I watched Dancing with the Stars night before last, well about two-thirds of it anyway, and saw the repeat of the Western song, "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy." At least the dancers were dressed in Western clothes, sort of. And I say anything that promotes the Old West is fine with me. The performance was a repeat of the most popular dance that the production has ran over the years. I would give credit where credit is due, but I didn't hear who wrote it, sang it, or whatever, just the dancing, and this morning I can't remember who the dancers were. They were winners or placers in a previous show.

I doubt that the performance will encourage anyone to go read a Western, though, since that wasn't the emphasis of the show. It would have been nice, however, if Tom Bergeron or Brooke Burke (whistle, whistle) had actually said something along the line of "Now, buy the book," or "Go read a cowboy novel," just as an ad lib, or maybe one of the dancers could have squeezed it in.

Now, someone who does promote the Old West and the reading of western stories is Gary Dobbs (Jack Martin) of http://taintedarchive.blogspot.com. Take a gander at his blog to see the books he has written and the info about the West he blogs about. Just day before yesterday he posted an article on the only Billy the Kid photograph which is going up for auction and expected to bring in a ton of moolah. Also see the True West magazine article on the same thing (www.truewestmagazine.com).    

Opinions On Certain Inventions And The West, First Edition

One of the inventions that comes immediately to mind is the "bullet," which had an awesome effect on the Western way of life of some people. It took a lo-n-g, lo-n-g time for the bullet to be made feasible in fast-firing guns and rifles, from 1260 to the 1800's. If it had taken another hundred years, it would have been overtaken by other inventions that would have eliminated or had a devastating effect on the movies of John Wayne and other western heroes as there wouldn't have been any fast draws and maybe the casualty rates of the World Wars would have been ameliorated somewhat. The outcome of a World war with old-fashioned weapons maybe would have been different, too. The Indians might have won out with their bows and arrows in our little wars, too..

The invention of chewing gum should have had a more intrusive effect on cowboying and smoking. Chewing gum was supposed to be a great substitute for a cigarette, but I don't recall ever seeing a movie where Mr. Wayne opened a pack of gum before shooting a bad guy, but several had to have a last cigarette. The first factory to make chewing gum was opened in 1870, right in the middle of the cowboy and outlaw heyday, and there should have been much more chewing of gum instead of smoking the stogy or ciggy. Some of the saloons were so thick with smoke and tobacco juice that you couldn't see a person standing six feet away. That's a mite exaggerated, but if  only they chewed gum, there would have been less lung disease and cancer, maybe.

Dynamite blasting caps, invented by Alfred Nobel (Father of the Peace Prize?? Yes, the one and the same. Photo below.) in 1863. You can blame all those safes that were blown up in the banks and the train tracks destroyed on Mr. Nobel. It sure has made movies exciting, though. And there were even a few dams blown to Kingdom's come by water-starved Westerners, I hear. If Mr. Nobel had opened a pack of chewing gum and thought about it, we may not have all that chaos and destruction. I wonder if he ended his life with a bullet? No, he didn't.

One more today. Alfredo Binetti or Alfred Binet invented the first intelligence test, later known as IQ test in 1911 or thereabouts. He started studying children in 1899 and wrote a book, Experimental Studies of Intelligence (in translation) in 1903 which set the stage for later tests. Hmm-mm. 1899? Almost missed the whole Western era. Maybe if he had came along, say, in 1869 and threw some light on the matters of intelligence, there wouldn't have been so many crazy outlaws running around shooting people, like Billy the Kid and the like. I'm not saying Billy was unintelligent. I'm saying that if he had a psychiatrist back then before he began shooting people, he may have turned out a better person, and an IQ test may have gotten him on the right path. That's all I'm saying.

Photo of Alfred Nobel in public domain due to copyright expiration (Wikimedia). 

  

The Oregon Cow Rancher

I ran across this old book in an antique store and couldn't pass it up, Pete French, Cattle King, by Elizabeth Lambert Wood, copyright 1951 by the author and published by the Metropolitan Press, Portland, Oregon. The book is a fictional biography of Pete French, who became the biggest cattle rancher in southeast Oregon.

Mr. French was a dreamer ever since his father sent him to work for Doctor Glenn in Jacinto, California, and even in Red Bluff, his hometown, before going south to Jacinto. Red Bluff is south of Redding on the Sacramento River and north of Chico. His dream that kept recurring to him was of a valley in Oregon that he could settle and raise cattle. Doctor Glenn was the person who set him up with that ranch in Harney County after a few years working for him. Pete set about building up the ranch and adding more cattle, even building a big ranch house for his future wife, Ella Glenn, who he had his eyes on since she was eight years' old. They eventually got married, but Ella was a different person than the young girl he knew at Dr. Glenn's house. She wouldn't live on the ranch, hated cattle and anything to do with country life, and lived in San Francisco at the Palace Hotel with money provided by Pete. And he had a lot of it by then, and she lived high on the hog in her very cultured way, while Pete handled the ranching.  He had dreams still and he always wanted a bigger ranch, the biggest in Oregon and anywhere else, he dreamed, even though he had thirty thousand cattle and all the land around, it wasn't enough for him. He bought out all the small settlers and ranches around and kept expanding his territory. Over time, he and Ella were divorced, and the small ranchers and settlers were building up a hatred for Pete French, aided by a fellow named Long John, who finally skipped the country because he was playing both sides.

This was a well written book to my way of thinking, even though it was "encumbered" by a feminine style of writing, very cultured in its way, not like the Luke Short or Max Brand style of writing with action being predominant. Anyway, that was the impression I was left with upon finishing it. I enjoyed the reading of it and recommend that if you run across it, don't look at it and put it down, take it home for a couple of hours of recreational reading if you haven't already read it.

     
The dust jacket was pretty well worn, needing to be mended with scotch tape. I like the sketch of the loner on his horse, exactly the type that Mr. French was.

Luke Short's "Dead Freight for Piute"

Cole Armin comes to Piute at the request of his Uncle Craig Armin, the owner of the Monarch Freight Company. After the meeting, Cole decides that his uncle is not a fair dealer and wants to prevent any competition hauling the ore from the mines. Cole goes into partnership with Ted Wallace of the Western Freight Co. and tries to beat the Monarch from getting the contract for the China Boy mine. The struggle continues through thick and thin as the Sheriff, supposedly in cahoots with Monarch, plans to get it all himself. Ted Wallce has a beautiful sister, of course, to throw in some love interest and Cole Armin falls for her. Its a dicey game, with Keen Billings who works for Craig Armin, plays dirty tricks on Cole and Ted, like breaking Ted's leg and fighting with Cole, cutting brake handles part way to ruin the freight wagons as they come down the hill, etc.

Lots of fighting and shooting and jailing and flirting and wagons tumbling off the side of the mountain that keeps the story interesting. There is a big surprise as it gets toward the end and the Sheriff's plans are ruined and the bad guys are chased out of town or killed and the good guys win out. Hooray!

I put this book in my car to read while I waited for the wife to visit the quilt shops, grocery store, beauty parlor, and various other places, but I finally finsihed it and it was a fine book, not your typical cowboys and cattle rustling story, and I couldn't wait to get back to it during the wating to find out what happens next.