Tune in.

Writer Rod Miller goes live on “Dusty Trails and Tall Tales” Thursday, July 23, at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time. Tune in on YouTube Livestream or FacebookLivestream for a discussion about the infamous Massacre at Bear River. See you there.

In the news:

The paperback and eBook editions of This Thy Brother have just been released. The stories follow the Pate and Lewis families introduced in Father unto Many Sons, and while reading that one first may enhance enjoyment of This Thy Brother, each novel stands on its own as well. From expeditions to kidnap and enslave Navajos, to the Texas invasion of New Mexico, to building trade and ranching empires, the book covers a lot of country. Online booksellers and eBook outlets feature the new release. These links will take you there:

This Thy Brother paperback on sale now
v  Amazon US
v  Barnes & Noble

 This Thy Brother eBook on sale now 
v  Amazon US
v  Apple Books
v  Barnes & Noble
v  Google Play
v  Kobo Books 

As Flame to Smoke, meant to be released a few weeks ago, suffered a printing error so has been delayed. For unknown reasons, the printers put out the fire in the title on the book’s cover, and rather than bright yellow and orange flames it looks like black and gray ashes. The publisher tells me they are working on a fix, but have not informed me of a completion date. Amazon does say they have the book in stock, but they do not show a cover image so I don’t know if it’s the defective one or the correct one. 

 

Fire up your computer (or phone or wherever you watch podcasts) on July 23 at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time and log onto “Dusty Trails and Tall Tales.” I will be talking with host Matthew Pizzolotto about the Massacre at Bear River, and it should be an interesting discussion. The United States Army killed more Indians (Shoshoni in this case) than at any other engagement in the history of the West, yet the 1863 massacre is largely forgotten to history. In this interview, we hope to shed a little more light on the tragedy and give it a measure of the attention it deserves.

That’s the news for now.

and the winner is . . .

Western Fictioneers, formed by professional writers in 2010 “to preserve, honor, and promote traditional Western writing in the 21st century,” just announced the winners of the annual Peacemaker Awards.

Lo and behold, my book Where the Long Trail Ends was named Best Western Novel.

Sometimes you get lucky. I am pleased and surprised in equal measure.

In other award news, two of my works were named finalists for Western Writers of America Spur Awards. “Leftovers,” from my collection Buckoffs and Broken Barriers: Rodeo Poems, is a Spur Award Finalist for Best Western Poem. “Rawhide Robinson Faces Fear,” from the collection of short stories with Michael Norman, Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions, is a Spur Awards Finalist for Best Western Short Fiction.

Good news from the premier professional organizations for Western writers.

When it rains it pours. Thank goodness—out here in the West we can use the water.

My favorite book, Part 32

For years, Wendell Berry has been one of my favorite writers. He is versatile, penning poems, essays, nonfiction, short stories, and novels. I like all of it. But perhaps my favorite of his works is Watch With Me: and Six Other Stories of the Yet-Remembered Ptolemy Proudfoot and His Wife, Miss Minnie, Née Quinch.

The stories are set in Berry’s fictional community of Port William, Kentucky. He has written several novels and lots of short stories about the place and its people, set from just after the Civil War till now, and their relationships to one another and the land.

Watch With Me: and Six Other Stories of the Yet-Remembered Ptolemy Proudfoot and His Wife, Miss Minnie, Née Quinch, stars Ptolemy “Tol” Proudfoot and Miss Minnie, who, later in life than is usual, become husband and wife. They are an unlikely pair—he an oversized and disheveled farmer whose slow and easy ways fool people into believing he is a bit dim upstairs, while she is a diminutive, prim and proper schoolmarm who is sharp as a tack. As their relationship develops over—roughly—the first half of the twentieth century, they learn to accommodate and appreciate one another’s ways and make a happy marriage.

Much of what the book recounts about Tol and Miss Minnie is humorous—some of it laugh-out-loud funny. There’s an incident in a country store featuring Tol and a basket of eggs that is one of the most amusing stories I have ever read or heard. In true Wendell Berry fashion, the book presents country folk as complex, layered characters rather than the hicks and bumpkins we so often see.

Wendell Berry’s writing has earned him the distinction of numerous literary prizes and honors, including receipt of the National Humanities Medal in 2010 and the Life Achievement Award from the National Book Critics Circle in 2016. In addition to a busy writing life, Berry practiced the old ways of agriculture he often writes about, farming with mule teams and raising crops on land where he and his wife still live. His way of writing is likewise old-fashioned—every one of the millions of his published words was written in longhand on paper with a pencil. You would be hard-pressed to find any author who has done more or better with the benefit of all the modern conveniences.

If you don’t know Wendell Berry, it’s time you met. Watch With Me: and Six Other Stories of the Yet-Remembered Ptolemy Proudfoot and His Wife, Miss Minnie, Née Quinch would make a fine introduction.

Who killed Lily?

The building of the Central Pacific toward Promontory Summit in Utah Territory and the completion of the transcontinental railroad was accompanied by a string of mostly temporary towns known collectively and individually as “Hell on Wheels.” Two Finger Pete tended bar at O’Sullivan’s Saloon in those towns. At Corinne, the last of the Hell on Wheels towns, he partnered up to build the Promontory Saloon, a more prominent establishment in a city with big plans.

But one morning a body was discovered in an upstairs room—the murdered, mutilated body of a young woman.

Who killed Lily?

The town marshal, the county sheriff, and deputy United States marshal Porter Rockwell work together and apart and sometimes at odds to find the killer. With little evidence, questionable clues, several suspects, multiple motives, doubtful alibis, and unexpected complications, unraveling the riddle proves a challenge.

Who killed Lily?

Can you solve the crime before the lawmen do? As Flame to Smoke is scheduled for release in a large-print edition from Thorndike Press in early June. Reserve a copy today at Bookshop.org, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online booksellers.

Who killed Lily? It’s a mystery.

The West is dead.

Not long ago I read a book titled Paper Talk. It is a collection of dozens of illustrated letters and other odds and ends by the late, great Western artist Charles M. Russell, edited and with commentary by Brian Dippie. Included in the collection is the above drawing and verse Russell inscribed in a book for a friend. It reads:

The west is dead my friend
But writers hold the seed
And what they sow
Will live and grow
Again to those who read.
—C.M. Russell, 1917

I like the short poem for a couple of reasons. There is Russell’s declaration that the West is dead. He made that statement in 1917, but he was not the first (nor would he be the last) to voice the sentiment. The West has died on numerous occasions, beginning in the nineteenth century. It died when the great trail drives out of Texas ended. It died with the end of the open range era and the invention of barbed wire fences. It died when the influence of women tamed the wild and violent towns. It died when historian Frederick Jackson Turner mourned the closing of the American frontier in 1890, and with it the westward movement that created the unique American character. And the West has continued to die, over and over again ever since, with the homestead act, with the regulation of public lands grazing, and you name it. The West is dead.

But the truth of it is, the West has never died. It has evolved and changed just as the North, South, East, and all the other points on the compass have adapted over the years, and will continue to do so. Still, through it all, the West managed to maintain much of its character as it aged.

And at least some of the reason for the truth that the West lives on is credited in Russell’s claim that writers “hold the seed.” The so-called Westerns created by writers—whether stories, poems, songs, radio plays, movies, television, histories, biographies—have also been declared dead on more occasions than anyone can remember. But Western writing is as prone to survival as the West that inspires it. It carries on and continues to “live and grow / Again to those who read.”

The West is dead. Long live the West.

Thank you for making it so, whether you are a Western writer or Western reader.

Good news.

Western Writers of America just announced the results of the 2026 Spur Awards for literary works published in 2025.

“Leftovers,” from the collection Buckoffs and Broken Barriers: Rodeo Poems, was named a Spur Award Finalist for Best Western Poem. It is a lighthearted verse bemoaning the state of an old, broke-down rodeo cowboy long, long past his questionable prime, reminiscing about the past. It is not altogether autobiographical.

“Rawhide Robinson Faces Fear” was honored as a Spur Award Finalist for Best Western Short Fiction. The story appears in the collection Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions, which features award-winning stories from the past (and a few more) by yours truly and fellow author Michael Norman. Now, Rawhide Robinson has truly earned his place in the book. (Rawhide Robinson is, by the way, winner of a Spur Award and twice a Spur Award Finalist as the subject of previous novels.)

Since 1953, Western Writers of America Spur Awards have honored writers “for distinguished writing about the American West. . . . Spur Awards have been one of the most prestigious awards in American literature.” In addition to the Spur winner, two Finalists are named in each category. I have been fortunate to have won four Spur Awards—two for short fiction, one for poetry, and one for a novel.

These two new Finalists bring the total to eight for that recognition, joining other Finalists for short fiction and poetry, as well as novels and a song (with stellar cowboy singer/songwriter Brenn Hill).

Sometimes you get lucky. I just got a little bit lucky again. Twice.

 

Express mail.

With a gash in his side and an arrow lodged in his shoulder, Pony Express rider Thomas Jefferson Jackson fights off pain, fatigue, and blood loss in his quest to reach the home station and pass along the mochila. Above all, the mail must get through.

His meandering thoughts continually turn to Loriann, the girl he left behind, and he wonders if his imaginative efforts to communicate with her through marked passages on pages torn from the pocket-size Bible provided by Express company Russell, Majors, and Wadell, will reach her and convey his feelings for her.

You’ll ride with Tom through dangerous desert plains, mountains, and canyons across Utah Territory’s West Desert in The Mail Must Get Through, a heart-wrenching story of courage, commitment, and love.

The Mail Must Get Through is available in paperback and eBook. Follow the link, or watch for it on your favorite online bookseller site and on eBook sites.

 

MISSING PERSONS

There is a move afoot by businesses in our country to eliminate any and all person-to-person interaction. Somewhere between “press one for . . .” menus on touchtone landline phones, “apps” on mobile phones, and “AI” rearing its head in everything digital, it has progressively progressed (or degenerated) to the point that it just might be possible to spend entire days and weeks, perhaps a lifetime if you are young enough, without ever having to rely on another human being to get something done, at least not directly.

Where have all the people gone?

At the grocery store, you can wander the aisles then scan and sack your purchases without human intervention. Or you can do it without leaving home, using an app to shop online. Then you can arrange with a delivery service—again through an app—to leave what you bought on your porch. Rather than knock on the door, they’ll take a picture of your purchase sitting there and send the photo to you in a text message to let you know it has arrived.

Speaking of text messages, when was the last time you actually called a friend and spoke to them? Or even left a recording of your voice on a messaging system that allows them to never speak directly to another person?

What if you’re one of the rare breed who wants to talk to people on the phone? Dial up a business and you’ll more than likely have to wend your way through a lengthy session of button pressing to conduct your business. A living, breathing, human being is only available as a last resort after pressing another button and waiting and waiting and waiting for your call—which is important to them—to be answered by a person. Even then, that person is unlikely to actually converse with you. Instead, they will read canned responses from their computer screen which may or may not (usually not) answer your question or solve your problem.

Looking for help online—already a step removed from human interaction—used to result in a slow-going, tedious exchange of typed messages with someone on the other end. But those people seem to have been replaced by AI. But artificial “intelligence” offers no discernable improvement in intelligence. Often there is no direct response to your question at all, just a choice of answers only tangentially related to your query, if at all. And then they want you to answer a little quiz about how satisfied you were with their performance.

Getting your order taken at the counter in a fast-food restaurant appears to have joined the list of threatened and endangered species. The invasion of “kiosks” is making contact with a person unnecessary and, it seems, unwanted. If you prefer the drive-through window, you are encouraged to order through the “app” and avoid even speaking to a person through the speaker. At an increasing number of sit-down restaurants you can find little gadgets on the table that let you place your order without dealing with a person, and maybe play a few games while you wait for your food. Your dining experience requires only the briefest of contact with a human person as he or she flits past to put your food on the table. Then you can pay the check on the gadget, and be invited to take a survey about how satisfied you are with their customer service. Or, of course, you can stay at home and get it all done and delivered through those “app” things.

Health care has also become a pain for those who wish to engage with humans. Online “portals” require you to ask your questions, set appointments, get referrals, request prescriptions, see test results, and just about everything else, all without human contact.

And that’s not all: You can buy anything your heart desires from online retailers, from roller skates to automobiles, all without human contact. Banks are in on it. Money lenders. Car dealers. Gas stations. Movie theaters. Pharmacies. And on and on and on.

Finally, and perhaps most damning of all, even those annoying telemarketers in their call centers are giving way to recorded messages and make-believe conversations with artificial people who offer you things you don’t want or need.

The world is changing. Or maybe it has already changed.

Where have all the people gone?

 

Sad Anniversary

January 29 marks 163 years since a Shoshone winter camp was attacked by forces of the United States Army, leaving as many as 350 children, women, and men dead. Events leading up to the attack are many and complicated and years in the making. But the government’s actions cannot, in any way, be justified, excused, or explained.

It was a tragedy unprecedented at the time and unmatched since. No other of the many unpardonable actions against the native people who have populated the West for thousands of years can match the Massacre at Bear River. By any measure it was the worst we—our white American ancestors—could do. And yet it is little understood and almost entirely forgotten by history. The few accounts that do exist in history books are often incorrect and inaccurate.

For one of the few times over the past two decades, I will miss the annual commemoration at the massacre site, hosted by the Northwestern Band of the Shoshone Nation. But my heart will be with the families and descendants of the victims, and the hundreds of supporters who will gather a few miles north of Preston, Idaho, to honor the fallen as well as the survivors.

The Massacre at Bear River has been something of an obsession with me. I have written a book of history about the massacre, as well as magazine articles and other nonfiction accounts. And I have attempted to capture the emotion and the human aspects of the event in poems, song lyrics, short stories, and a novel (available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook).

The Massacre at Bear River is a stain on our nation that is not pleasant to remember, but one that should never be forgotten.

Annual Report

At the end of the year in business, it is traditional to report on the year’s accomplishments and activities, and to look forward to the year ahead. Most annual reports are based on a fiscal year, owing to financial considerations. Since I am not very business-like and there’s not much in the way of finances to consider, we’ll go with the calendar year.

During 2025, I managed to see two novels come to life:
w The Hunting of Man Book 3: Hiding Man (January)
w Where the Long Trail Ends (September)

There was a new collection of poetry:
w Buckoffs and Broken Barriers: Rodeo Poems (July)

And a new collection of short stories, with co-author Michael Norman:
w Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions: Award Winning Western Stories (August)

Speaking of short fiction, a story based on the start of Utah’s Black Hawk war, “The Incident Above Mentioned,” appeared in an anthology:
w Silverado Press Presents: Western Stories by Today’s Top Writers (March)

A couple of nonfiction articles were published in RANGE magazine:
w “The French Connection” (Fall 2025)
w “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” (Winter 2025/2026)

Earlier in the year I reviewed five novels for the New York Journal of Books, the last of some 30 reviews I had written for them over the past few years, before they shut down unexpectedly.

Looking ahead to 2026, a Pony Express novel, The Mail Must Get Through, should be out shortly after the first of the year. An Old West Hell on Wheels murder mystery, As Flame to Smoke, is scheduled for May release. There’s a Rawhide Robinson novel (number five) on the schedule, Rawhide Robinson Rides with Old Blue, but the publication date isn’t set as yet.

There should be some paperback and eBook editions of earlier hardcover books coming out as well. And who knows what else?

All in all, it has been another year of happy writing for me, and another one to look forward to. I hope there’s some happy reading out there for you.

Happy New Year!

Hit the Dusty Trail.

The Dusty Trails and Tall Tales podcast goes live Thursday, December 18, at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time. Host, as always, will be the podcast creator, Matthew Pizzolato. Yours truly will be guest writer.

Among other things, the discussion will revolve around my latest novel, Where the Long Trail Ends, and Buckoffs and Broken Barriers, my recently released collection of rodeo poetry. And since Matthew is an accomplished author of Western fiction, we’ll likely talk about how we go about spinning a tale of the Old West, whether based on something from history or out of thin air.

Matthew has conducted hundreds of interviews on Dusty Trails and Tall Tales and says this about the podcast: “Whether you're a die-hard Western fan or a budding writer, you'll gain fascinating insights into the craft of creating unforgettable characters, thrilling showdowns, and the rugged landscapes of the frontier. Saddle up and join us as we explore the art of Western storytelling, one interview at a time.”

Grab a mug of your favorite hot beverage and join us. Follow the link to Matthew’s website, or find Dusty Trails and Tall Tales on Spotify or YouTube. If you can’t join us live, we’ll be archived online forever.

See you (or be seen by you) Thursday, December 18, at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time.

Drovers

Friend and fellow poet Linda Kirkpatrick of the great state of Texas sent the above picture to me a while back. It looks, does it not, like a typical old-time photo of a band of cowboys.

But it’s not. The photo is of men from her part of Texas who were “Hog Drovers.”

Well, having had some experience with pigs in my youth (Utah State Junior Livestock Show Fitting and Showmanship Champion in the pig division, 1970) it piqued my curiosity. It makes perfect sense, but it had not occupied much of my mind, that in days gone by, before railroads and trucking came along, hogs—like cattle (and sheep, goats, ducks, geese, turkeys, horses, and mules)—had to be driven to market.

Tennessee and Kentucky were big pig-raising states, and the fattened animals would be driven through the mountains to eastern markets. In 1847 alone, 51,753 hogs passed through a single tollgate in North Carolina. As many as 100,000 hogs were driven from Kentucky to Richmond, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and other points east in any given year. Hog drives were common throughout the country.

Porkers could move along on their trotters about ten miles a day, led by a horseback drover and herded by other drovers, about one for every 100 hogs in the herd. Herd sizes ranged from a few hundred to a thousand pigs. “Wagon stands” along the way would corral, feed, and water the hogs overnight. 

There’s a better than even chance that the photo Linda sent may inspire a future novel featuring the adventures and antics of our friend Rawhide Robinson. We’ll see if that pig can fly.

My favorite book, Part 31

There is no shortage of novels about violence in trail drive cowtowns. Some are well written. Most are fairly predictable, even some that are well written. But too many of them rely on the clichés and stereotypes and nonsense we have all been fed too much in shoot-’em-up books and movies and TV shows.

Bloody Newton by Johnny D. Boggs is different. It won a Spur Award from Western Writers of America and deserves the honor.

The story revolves around an actual incident, the Tuttle’s Dance Hall Massacre of 1871. (Also known as the Newton Massacre and the Hide Park Gunfight.) The newborn town of Newton, Kansas, is attracting Texas cattle herds to the railhead there, making the place as wild and woolly as any Old West town.

The author enriches his tale with parallel stories of a family of Texas cowboys, a woman restauranteur struggling to set up shop in Newton, and a newspaper woman from the Wichita Times who was more-or-less exiled to Newton in order to get her out of the editor’s hair.

As the individual stories build, they are braided together toward a fascinating climax. The period detail is well rendered, the characters are believable and distinct, and the violence is rendered so masterfully that it can cause chills.

It’s hard to go wrong with any novel that says Johnny D. Boggs on the cover. But, for me, Bloody Newton is among the author’s finest work, right up there with Northfield, one of my all-time favorite Western novels.

 

Talk show time.

Just a brief reminder (for myself, as well as you) that I will be appearing with friend and author Michael Norman on Rendezvous with a Writer Thursday, October 2, at 7:00 p.m. Mountain Time on LA Talk Radio. We’ll be talking with hosts Bobbi Jean and Jim Bell, and True West magazine film editor Henry Parke, about our new collection of Western stories, Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions.

The book features short stories honored by Western Writers of America Spur Awards, Will Rogers Medallion Awards, Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Awards, and other recognition. And, there are some new stories in the collection that—with luck—may receive recognition of their own.

It will be easy for you to listen (and look) in. Click on this link to LA Talk Radio or this one for the Rendezvous with a Writer Facebook page for the podcast on October 2 at 7:00 p.m. Mountain Time. The recorded program will be available at both those sites afterward and probably forever.

See you there.

When things gang aft agley.

Storms, stampedes, river crossings, and rustlers ride through the pages of Where the Long Trail Ends—along with the poetry of Robert Burns.

Joaquin Ignacio MacDonald is a Texas cowboy descended from a white plantation owner, black slaves, and a Mexican mother. The only thing he owns from his distant white ancestor is his surname and a stolen book of poetry passed down through the generations. The poetry leads to friendship with a young woman named Elspeth, which costs him his job at a ranch owned by a Scottish syndicate and managed by her father, Duncan Cameron.

Crippled in a horse wreck at his new job, Joaquin turns to cooking, and runs the chuckwagon on a cattle drive up the Chisholm Trail, leading to renewed conflict with Cameron. Thrown together by a bullet wound, the two men tussle over a troublesome past and uncertain future.

The title of the book, Where the Long Trail Ends, comes from a poem by George Rhoades, who, long ago, was one of my college journalism professors. We were reacquainted a few years back when traveling through the world of cowboy poetry, and the Professor kindly allowed me to borrow his words.

There’s a lot that happens in the pages of Where the Long Trail Ends, my newest novel from Speaking Volumes. Much of it is unexpected and surprising, and certainly unusual in a Western novel. I think you’ll enjoy the ride.

Online interviews on the way.

The Internet will be awash with writer Rod Miller in the weeks ahead.

First, tune in to Matthew Pizzolato’s Dusty Trails and Tall Tales podcast Thursday, September 18, at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time (your time zone may vary). You’ll hear (and see) a panel discussion about a recent anthology of short fiction, Silverado Press Presents: Western Stories by Today’s Top Writers.

On the panel will be Jeff Mariotte, editor and publisher (as well as an author) of the anthology, contributing authors Del Howison and Kelli Fitzpatrick, and yours truly.

In addition to discussing the anthology, the conversation may range to what the various writers are up to, and maybe what we think about western books and movies. It’s anybody’s guess. My contribution to the anthology is a story titled “The Incident Above Mentioned,” historical fiction about the beginning of The Black Hawk War in Utah in April of 1865.

Tune in (or log in) Thursday, September 18, at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time for Dusty Trails and Tall Tales.

Then, two weeks later, listen to (and watch) LA Talk Radio when hosts Bobbi Jean Bell and Jim Bell, with guest host Henry C. Parke, Film Editor for True West Magazine, will interview author Michael Norman and me on the Rendezvous With A Writer broadcast. The topic of discussion will be our recently released collection of award-winning short stories, Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions. The two-author collection includes stories that have won and been finalists for the Western Writers of America Spur Award, Will Rogers Award Medallions, the Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Award, and other recognition.

You can hear and see the interview live on Thursday, October 2, at 7:00 p.m. Mountain Time (again, your time zone may vary) at LA Talk Radio. The next day, the program will appear on the Rendezvous With A Writer Facebook Page.

Tune in, log in, or link in to these interviews and discussions with Western writers for some thoughts about writing about the American West that may set you to thinking.

 

Stupid question.

Long, long ago, when I was a student in journalism school, we learned about interviews. The whole point was to learn to ask probing questions, learn to ask follow-up questions on the fly, ask questions requiring more than “yes” or “no” answers, ask again when someone dodges a question, ask for additional information to provide context to answers to questions, and so on.

You’ll note two words are repeated several times: “ask” and “question.” That, we were taught, was how reporters and writers and journalists and broadcasters and talk show hosts and others in the interview business conduct business—by asking questions.

It seems to be a lost art nowadays. Seldom do I hear interviewers ask a question. Now, it seems, the method-du-jour is to give orders. Instead of asking, you tell the person you are interviewing to “talk about” this and “talk about” that. Talk about, talk about, talk about. It doesn’t seem to matter if it’s breaking news, hard news, political reporting, sports interviews, talk shows, panel discussions, or whatever. Interviewers seldom seem to ask questions anymore. Instead, it’s “talk about.”

Talk about this. Talk about that. Talk about, talk about, talk about.

Whatever happened to questions and answers? I suppose that’s a stupid question in today’s world. I guess I should say, “Talk about the demise of asking questions in interviews.”

Double Header.

Two new books to tell about.

A collection of rodeo poems, Buckoffs and Broken Barriers, written over the years is now available online in paperback and eBook. The poems range from humorous to wistful and everywhere in between, and all are the result of years spent riding, working, or watching rodeo. Some are based on actual events. Others ought to be, even if they’re not.

Nine-time World Champion Rodeo Cowboy Ty Murray read the book, and had this to say:

“Rod Miller is a very talented wordsmith who brings out the humor, danger, mystique and drama of cow people and their sport. After reading many of his poems that depict his experiences as a rodeo cowboy, it’s a damn good thing he’s a hand with a pen.”

Coming mid-August is a collection of short stories, Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions, co-authored with friend and fellow writer Michael Norman. Many of the stories are award winners or finalists for those honors, or recipients of other noteworthy recognition. There are Spur Awards from Western Writers of America, Medallions from the Will Rogers Medallion Awards, Peacemakers from Western Fictioneers, and other honors some of our stories have been fortunate enough to receive. We collected those award winners and finalists, wrote some new stories, and put them together in this two-author collection.

Michael is author of several modern-day Western mystery novels, and also writes short stories. Most are historical tales about the Apache wars in the Southwest. My stories run the gamut in setting, subject,  and style. The book is a Thorndike Press large-print edition, available from online booksellers as well as on the shelves at many libraries.

Whether your taste runs to poetry or short fiction or both, you’ll find Buckoffs and Broken Barriers and  Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions enjoyable. You’ll get a taste of arena dirt, feel the heat of the southwestern deserts, and hear the creak of saddle leather. You’ll find a touch of anxiety and anticipation, some fear and uncertainty—and even the occasional laugh.

 

Word came down last week that Wallace McRae is dead.

He was among the handful of cowboy poets behind the rebirth of our art and craft in the mid-1980s, and his passing is a loss from which we will never recover.

The word “curmudgeon” was as firmly affixed to McRae as his bushy mustache, and it was a description I believe he carried with pride. To many, he came across as gruff. But underlying that gruffness were two simple facts: he had a low tolerance for bullshit, and he did not suffer fools gladly.

McRae was a poet. More than a mere rhymer, jokester, versifier, or entertainer, he wrangled words to create well-crafted poetry that spoke of the West in layers that plumbed the depths, asking questions and demanding thought. You will not find among his work the cheap emotion, the manufactured pride, the manipulative humor so often found in cowboy poetry.

I did not know McRae well. We were well enough acquainted to speak, but it’s not like we were drinking buddies. Back in 2016, he agreed to be interviewed for a magazine article I was working on, and we had a good, long talk at the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada. I got what I needed for the story, and I got a lot more than I expected.

We talked about his early exposure to poetry, including his first public recitation at age four at a community Christmas celebration. And his exposure at an early age to one of the greatest cowboy poets of all time: “We got a livestock publication, my dad did, I don’t know what the title of it was, but it had a monthly Bruce Kiskaddon illustrated poem in it. . . . I knew Kiskaddon before I could read.”

I asked his opinion on what Kiskaddon and other early masters—Badger Clark, S. Omar Barker, and others—might think of today’s cowboy poetry. “My guess is, I think they would for the most part feel that we’re trying hard. But maybe not measuring up. Because so few people are trained now in writing. They haven’t read the classics. We haven’t studied the art enough. . . . I don’t think there’s enough of us that study poetry.”

McRae’s honors are too many to mention. But his legacy is one we should treasure—and we could all benefit from reading and rereading and studying his poetry. He was one of the best of us. And now he is gone.