A celebration among the saguaros.

Not long ago I had the privilege of attending the Tucson Festival of Books. It’s the only event I’ve seen that attracts hundreds of thousands of people who share a love of books and reading. Display tents line the University of Arizona mall several rows deep, filled with all kinds of vendors and publishers and booksellers and others, most book-related.

A large meeting room filled to hear a panel discussion featuring Bob Boze Bell, author, illustrator and Executive Editor of True West magazine, and author and retired rancher Alan Day. I filled the third seat at the table. Bell, a raucous raconteur, kept the audience laughing as we three exchanged stories of how our experiences growing up in the West contributed to and affected our writing.

Later, I conducted a workshop on opportunities in and approaches to Western writing for a small group of aspiring authors.

All in all, a worthwhile trip with lots of Arizona scenery and sightseeing stops along the way. Besides, the weather down there was a lot warmer than what we left behind and what we came home to.

If you’re able, plan a visit to next year’s Festival. A full slate of lectures, panel discussions, books signings, and other presentations by authors of every type of book imaginable, including writers who are household names. If you love books, you’ll love the Tucson Festival of Books.

My Favorite Book, Part 13.

The history of my homeland, the American West, has been of interest to me for as long as I can remember. From Indians to Spanish and Mexican colonizers to explorers to mountain men to pioneer settlers to mining boom towns, I like learning about it all.

But, mostly, I am intrigued by cowboys and the cattle trails and ranges and ranches where they worked. So it will be of no surprise to anyone with similar interests to know that you’ll find a well-thumbed copy of Cowboy Culture: A Saga of Five Centuries by David Dary on the bookshelf beside my desk.

The book is thoroughly researched, extensive in its reach, and well written. I’ve read it through on more than one occasion. And I refer to it often when verifying facts for something I’m writing, or merely to satisfy my curiosity about some person or place or event. In fact, I just picked it up, and there are no fewer than thirteen bookmarks sticking out of it.

While I cannot claim to know David Dary well, it was a pleasure, on two occasions, to share a table with him at Western Writers of America banquets. (His company was much more enjoyable than the food.)

If you haven’t read Cowboy Culture, you should. You’ll soon see why it won the Wrangler Award from the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, the Spur Award from Western Writers of America, and the Westerners International Award.

And you’ll come away knowing about real cowboys, as opposed to the fast-riding, gun-toting “cowboys” of movie, TV, and Western novel fame who seldom, if ever, cross paths with a cow. 

Post Script: I just learned from one of our readers that David Dary passed away just one week ago. That's the loss of a fine historian, writer, and man. 

Gads, gut hooks, and grapplin’ irons.

Cowboys call them by all kinds of names—gads, gut hooks, and grapplin’ irons among them. Then there’s can openers, rib wrenches, and buzzsaws. And more.

But the official name—if there is such a thing in Western lingo—is spurs.

Spurs are a common cowboy tool, in everyday use wherever horses are saddled. But Western Writers of America borrowed the name and attached it to something uncommon and not everyday. As the organization puts it, “Western Writers of America annually honors writers for distinguished writing about the American West with the Spur Awards.”

Winners of the 2018 Spur Awards were announced recently, and I am honored to know several recipients and their work. And I am especially honored to once again be counted among them.

“Lost and Found” is a short story published last year in Saddlebag Dispatches that tells of a modern-day cowboy who loses a piece of his thumb in his dallies while gathering strays on a remote range, and finds the body of a dead boy dumped in a dry wash.

The judges somehow found it worthy and named it the Spur Award winner for Best Western Short Fiction.

Also published in Saddlebag Dispatches, my poem “The Knowing” was named a Finalist for the Spur Award for Best Western Poem. My friend and fine poet Marleen Bussma won the Spur for her poem, “She Saddles Her Own Horse.”

All thanks to the late Dusty Richards and to Casey Cowan who elected to publish the story and the poem in their magazine. And appreciation to the Spur Award judges who bestowed these honors.

I am more than happy to pound a couple more nails in the wall.

Rawhide Robinson trades cows for camels.

(Note to readers: We will return to our usual literary nonsense following this brief commercial message.)

Don’t worry. Giving up horses and cows is only a temporary aberration for Rawhide Robinson. Just as our ordinary cowboy hero traded cattle for cats in Rawhide Robinson Rides the Tabby Trail, in his latest adventures(s), we find him delivering dromedaries.

Rawhide Robinson Rides a Dromedary: The True Tale of a Wild West Camel Caballero is loosely—very loosely—based on the US Army’s experimental use of camels as pack animals in the southwestern deserts. And if you think herding longhorn cattle and Chicago alley cats is fodder for fantastical escapades, wait till you read about our cowboy’s exploits on the high seas and at Levantine ports of call.

As usual, Rawhide Robinson spins tall tales as easily as a loop, and sailors find his stories every bit as entertaining as cowboys do.

Western Writers Hall of Fame member Loren D. Estleman says the book is “rich in color, texture, and relentless forward movement.” Booklist says, “Rawhide’s over-the-top storytelling is complemented by Miller’s slapstick humor and verbal gymnastics.”

Rawhide Robinson Rides a Dromedary is hot off the press. Watch the short video for a taste of what’s inside the covers, and visit RawhideRobinson.com to read an excerpt. And, of course, buy the book.

End of crass commercialism. Tune in next time for something altogether different.

Wisdom from Down Under.

Unless you’re from Australia, you might not recognize the picture above as a $10 bill. I have one just like it, courtesy of outstanding bush poet, reciter, and storyteller from Down Under, Jack Sammon, who I had the pleasure of meeting at the National Cowboy Gathering in Elko, Nevada. I’ll probably never get to Australia to spend it. But I wouldn’t anyway, as I consider it a work of art. In fact, it is framed and hanging on the wall in my office.

The portrait on the note is of A.B. “Banjo” Paterson. Few would disagree that he is the finest poet Australia has ever produced, and his work is known the world over. Here in America, he is especially loved by aficionados of cowboy poetry.

You’ll notice the running horses and horseman on the bill. They’re illustrative of one of Paterson’s most famous poems, “The Man from Snowy River.” The first two lines of the poem appear along the bottom. And, if you have a microscope, you can read the entire text of the poem in microprint on the note as a security feature. You’re probably familiar with the poem and its celebration of courage and daring and what we would call “The Cowboy Way.” Clancy, a central character in the story, is also the subject of my favorite Paterson poem, “Clancy of the Overflow.” And he wrote the Australian folk anthem, “Waltzing Matilda,” which is also featured on the bill.

But I digress.

The promised wisdom?

Jack Sammon talked about the $10 bank note before reciting “The Man from Snowy River” at the Gathering. He said, “We’re kind of backward down in Australia compared to America—instead of politicians, we put poets on our money.”

Who do you think is backward?

Lies They Tell Writers, Part 43: Read Aloud What You’ve Written.

Some writing instructors advise aspiring writers to read aloud what they’ve written. They say doing so will reveal awkward phrasing, faulty rhythm, poor word choice, and other sins.

It’s true. Sometimes.

Reading aloud is particularly apt when writing poetry, especially if that poetry is to be recited. But reading prose aloud isn’t always a good idea.

Having written a ton and a half of advertising copy over the course of some four decades, I learned long ago that writing words to be vocalized—as in radio or television commercials—is altogether different from writing words to be read—as in printed advertisements.

That’s because the brain is much more adept than the vocal cords.

Your mind can wrap itself around more complex sentence constructions, accept more assonance and consonance and alliteration without getting tongue-tied, easily switch rhythmic patterns to follow dialogue, fill in the blanks purposely created by ambiguity and other techniques to involve readers, understand sentence fragments, and on and on and on.

The written word and the spoken word are entirely different things. Different languages, almost. The trick, in both cases, is using words well. Go ahead and read your work aloud. But don’t believe for a minute that your mouth is a better arbiter of what’s right in writing than your brain.

Cowboy Poetry with Pickles.

Last week I had the good fortune to once again attend the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada. As usual, a good time was had by all. How could you go wrong reconnecting with old friends, meeting new ones, and sitting through hours (and hours and hours) of the best cowboy poetry and music the world has to offer?

This year brought an unexpected and unusual treat.

Fans of the “Pickles” comic strip know that on a few occasions, the curmudgeonly Earl Pickles has dipped his toes into the waters of cowboy poetry. As it happens, Brian Crane, the author and artist behind “Pickles,” is an old and dear friend and coworker and business partner. For some 40 years we have been close friends, if usually distant neighbors. When Earl was infected with poesy, I had the opportunity to work with Brian on some of his character’s poetic efforts.

Brian came to his first Gathering with, of course, Earl in his pocket, to breathe the rarified air at cowboy poetry’s heights. Not only was it good to see and spend time with Brian again, I got a big kick introducing him to friends and enjoying their shock and surprise then smiles when I told them what he did to earn his daily bread, as so many of them are “Pickles” fans. (It often embarrassed Brian and he wished I wouldn’t brag on him, but he well knows I am not to be trusted.)

I will be surprised if Earl’s poetic proclivities weren’t inspired by his time in Elko, and expect the funny papers will be seeing more of his versifying in the future.