What am I writing?

The New York Times recently ran an opinion piece titled, “Don’t ask what I’m writing.” The article deals with writers’ uncertainty during the initial stage of a novel, and suggests friends shouldn’t ask too many early questions because it can be unnerving. True. 

I had a good friend ask about The Return when I first started and she was aghast when I said Dancy and his friends were going to New Jersey. She begged me not to take my Western series east. She loved the West and liked the fact that each book moved around the American frontier. Taking my characters to New Jersey and New York City seemed to her like some kind of betrayal. Her angst gave me pause, but after some additional thought, I went ahead anyway. I went ahead, but I never spoke to her again about the book, nor did I tell her about another major change in the lead character’s life.

Cowboy City in Farmingdale New Jersey

This friend is one of my rough draft readers who I trust to tell me the truth. She’s a reliable compass, so I was apprehensive about her take on my new novel. I shouldn’t have worried. She loved it. Her first words were, “I was wrong. I enjoyed seeing Western attitudes play out in an Eastern setting.”

I like fish-out-of-water stories. I took Steve Dancy, the New York shopkeeper, to the frontier for that very reason. He didn’t fit, but he had to adapt to survive. Now I let him return home to discover that he no longer easily fits in the east either. I also thought it was high time for him to have a grownup romantic interest. The entire series has been about Dancy ‘s growth and these two development have set up some interesting scenarios for the future. When I didn’t discuss it with others, I was confident about where I was taking the story. But there were moments when I feared I might be harming a great character and storyline. In the end, The Return has received faster and better reviews than the other books in the series. What a relief.

This is why I like the final advice of the New York Times piece:

1. Trust a few, necessary voices. 

2. Try, as much as possible, to avoid torturing these brave souls with your own insecurities. 

3. Shut up and write.

Are Romance Novels True Westerns?

Several of my fellow writers lament that it’s almost impossible to break into Amazon high ranking for Westerns due to Romance Novels filling all the slots. Actually, many of the top slots are held by some great Westerns, like These is my Words, The Sisters Brothers, Lonesome Dove, The Son, and All The Pretty Horses, but it’s true that the remainder of the Top100 tend to be romance, 99 cent books, or Western writers of yesteryear.

Romance Westerns are popular, but they’re not new. Arguably, The Virginian was the first Romance Western. After all, the hero doesn't ride off into the sunset; he marries the schoolmarm and visits Vermont to meet her family. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance—my favorite Western movie—is a romantic story in more ways than one. As for titillating tales of the West, they've been around for ages as well.

I don’t begrudge the popularity of Romance Westerns, but I have to admit I’m jealous of their sales. Maybe that’s why I slipped a romantic theme into my latest Steve Dancy tale, The Return. 

Actually, I didn't do it on purpose, it was Steve who insisted.

Steve Dancy in Love?

Steve Dancy has had a rocky romantic life in the first three novels. His mother pushed him to marry a young lady who would enhance the family’s wealth and connections, but New York City socialites and socializing bored Steve. In defiance, he sold everything and followed Horace Greeley advice to “Go west, young man.” 




Steve assumed he would observe the frontier and write a great literary classic about the Wild West. He found enough adventure to fill several books and made a few male friends along the way. In his wanderings, he also encountered many different types of women, but Steve argued with every one of them. Needless to say, this was not the best way to strike up a relationship.

Things change in The Return.  Steve remains clumsy with the opposite sex, but even a dunderhead can be successful on occasion. I’d tell you what happens, but why ruin the suspense. You’ll just have to buy a copy and read for yourself.

As for me, I'm leaving the scorching heat of Arizona for Pacific Beach. I'll get in a little surfing between playing with my grandkids, who are flying in from Nebraska. You know, I think my granddaughter is the right age to start bogie boarding. This is gonna be fun.

Ink Tank does: The 8 sexiest cowgirls to kiss John Wayne

John Wayne was a lucky man. As the leading man in 142 films, he had the honor of working with somewhere near 142 leading ladies. Ink Tank does a fun job of selecting "The 8 sexiest cowgirls to kiss John Wayne."

Owen Wister’s Virginian Would not Approve

Poor, but smiling nonetheless

Last month, Paul Mountjoy of Virginia wrote a snarky article for the Washington Times website titled, “The Old West: When men were men and women knew their place.” He opens with the following paragraph. 

“How many times have we heard men declare of the days of the old West, ‘men were men and women stayed at home and knew their place’? This is a common refrain after folks watch a movie based on the period.”

How many times? None, that I've encountered. This is not a common refrain of Western film enthusiasts. It is a writer’s cheap trick. Attribute a sexist comment to something you intend to denigrate.

Mountjoy proceeds to make commonplace observations about the true nature of gunfights in the Old West, list everyday hardships as if they were unique to the frontier, and reminds us that people died of disease and attacks without good medical assistance. The West, of course, was completely void of compassion due to men “witnessing 25 thousand deaths in a matter of days” during the Civil War. (I'm sure this callousness never afflicted men in the actual battleground state of Virginia.) Mountjoy has a penchant for hyperbole. He also claimed prostitutes in the West took “up to 50 or more customers nightly, more often than not, in an alley between two buildings.”

Perhaps Mountjoy’s motive is to promote employment for his friends in the nation’s capital. He writes, “If their farmer husband became disabled and had no older sons to take over the farm, they were in deep trouble. There were no government programs to help.” That seals it; the real Old West was nothing like the movies. And I thought White House Down was a documentary.

Mountjoy misses the whole point of Western mythology. I wrote an article titled, “Is the Mythologyof the Old West Dead?” Here's one paragraph. 

“The West, outer space, the future, or a make-believe land represents a new beginning in a fresh place away from home—the shrugging off of disappointments and a chance to start all over again. The romance and adventure of frontiers draws people desperate to escape the travail of their current existence. We've seen this in real life with the migrations to the New World and the Old West, but today many people satisfy this longing vicariously with fiction. If you're poor, your family makes you miserable, you've committed an act that offends society, or wanderlust has gripped you, then the adventure and limitless opportunity of a frontier beckons like a siren's call. Emigrating to a frontier means you get a do-over in a land with no rules, no fences, no referees.” 

It’s the absence of civilization that draws stalwart people to a frontier. They can start over and build a better life. Maybe they won’t, but they’re willing to take risks just for the chance. Listing hardships never dissuaded pioneers, whether they were setting off for Plymouth or Tombstone. They were a tough and hopeful breed. We lament the demise of the frontier and the Old West because we need more of these courageous people.