Monday, March 30, 2020

Really stupid words, Chapter 11.

It has long been a curiosity why, when we have perfectly good words in our rich language, we are so eager to jump on the bandwagon of the latest Rube Goldberg-concoction and turn it into a buzzword.
A somewhat recent example: “Going forward.”
Now, I am a soccer fan. And, for as long as I remember, “going forward” is what a soccer team does when it is on the attack. It’s a simple, apt description of something or someone moving in a defined direction in the physical world.
Nowadays, it has become almost standard vernacular used to describe something else. And the description is not nearly so apt, if it is apt at all.
We used to say, “in the future” or “from now on” or, if you wanted to sound pretentious, you might say, “henceforth” or “hereafter” or “from this time forth.” All those words and phrases mean what they mean, cannot mean anything else, and are perfectly descriptive.
“Going forward”? Not so.
Then there’s the long-standing philosophical argument about whether time moves in a “forward” direction at all, or whether it moves around and around in a cycle. But we’ll leave that discussion to the philosophers.
Years ago, in a meeting at the office, a coworker used “going forward” when it was still fresh and new. Afterward, I asked him why, and he said he did not know any other way to say what he meant. I guess he forgot that, as recently as the day before, he would have been perfectly happy to say, “from now on.”
Stupid.





Friday, March 20, 2020

New news and newer news.

 


The release of my newest novel, Pinebox Collins, is days away. It’s about a one-legged itinerant undertaker in the Old West. In his travels from place to place, Jonathon “Pinebox” Collins sees the West grow and change. He spends time in cowtowns, mining boomtowns, small towns, and thriving cities. And he crosses paths with some of the wildest characters the Wild West has to offer, including “Wild Bill” Hickok.
Next in line, slated for release in late August or early September, is my newer novel, A Thousand Dead Horses. That’s the cover, above, seen here in public for the first time. Set in 1840, it is based on a historic horse-stealing adventure, when mountain men and Ute Indians followed the Old Spanish Trail to California and robbed ranchos there of some 3,000 horses and mules, many of which did not make it across the Mojave Desert alive.
These books are going to need shelves to sit on, so please make room on yours. Thank you.


Friday, March 13, 2020

Postponed.


In an abundance of caution, this post has been postponed.
Please make sure your anti-virus software is up to date. And if our inept administration ever gets its act together, scan for any infected files.
Be careful out there.


Friday, March 6, 2020

Listening to horses.


In days gone by, you heard a lot about “horse whisperers.” These trainers had developed a knack of communicating with the animals that revolutionized handling horses. It’s a good thing.
But some trainers go beyond merely speaking a horse’s language. Some, like Joe Wolter, are just as adept at listening to horses as talking to them. Joe Wolter learned from the best, including Ray Hunt and the Dorrance brothers.
But, mostly, he learned from horses. And he passes that knowledge along at horsemanship clinics across the country.
A friend of mine, Cameron Wilkinson, has put together Joe Wolter clinics at the Utah County Fairgrounds in Spanish Fork, Utah. If you’re within trailer-pulling distance of the place, you’d do well to load up your horses and hit the road.
The clinics are June 12 through 14. But the registration deadline is coming right up, so reserve your place by April 15. (It’ll be a much more pleasant experience than filing your taxes.) Space is limited, so don’t wait—contact Cameron by e-mail today (bronc.cw@gmail.com). 
Listen to your horses. They want to be there.