Today we have a new president number 44. I watched the inauguration and much of the additional coverage and was highly impressed with everything. If we could keep that same feeling of patriotism, togetherness and usefulness all year long everyone on earth would think—wow, they really are the greatest nation on the face of the earth.
Good Luck President Obama and God speed.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
John G Neihardt
Today it the birthday of the great John G Neihardt, I have read “Black Elk Speaks,” at least a half dozen times. As a kid growing up in rural Nebraska we were fed a steady diet of Neihardt and I am sure that, at the time, I did not appreciate him as I do today. If you have never experienced any of his stuff, take a look, what a great writer he was. He was first published at 16 and last published at 90, a remarkable career.
He is a word sender. This world is like a garden and over it go his words like rain, and where they go they leave everything greener. After his words have passed, the memory of them shall stand long in the West like a flaming rainbow. —Black Elk
http://www.neihardt.com/jgn/index.html
He is a word sender. This world is like a garden and over it go his words like rain, and where they go they leave everything greener. After his words have passed, the memory of them shall stand long in the West like a flaming rainbow. —Black Elk
http://www.neihardt.com/jgn/index.html
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Back to work
Well it’s a new year and I am back to work. It was great to have 2 weeks to sleep-in, nearly overdose on food and football and just to relax. One of the few real perks of being a public school teacher. Next year will be my 40th in front of the class, wow. With a New Year comes New Year’s resolutions—mine, to write more. I have a tendency to get in and out of the writing groove and looks like right now, I am in. My YA modern western mystery is once again moving along. I am hoping for 40 to 50 thousand words and am closing in on 30 thousand right now and writing, at a pace of, nearly a thousand a day.
Just a little excerpt from the chapter I am presently working on. (First Draft)
Jimmy heard the shot, flattened out in the sand of the dry creek and tried to quickly scoot backwards down the washed out canyon. He had not made it the twenty feet to the bend in the old creek bed when a startling reality came to him, he had not heard a slug hit and there was only one shot, again. Were they trying to scare him off, again? Or had someone shot at something else, maybe not him at all. His mind started to clear as he rethought the last thirty or so seconds. He slowly crept back to the spot where he had watched for the past hour or more. What he saw was strange or as Robert would say, “there is some weird stuff going on—supernatural---wo-oow-wo?”
The older, stockier, of the two men he had been watching was hitching the pick-up to the back of his Suburban. In what seemed like only seconds he brushed his hands on the back of his blue jeans, lit a new cigar and appeared to be laughing out loud. He flipped his match stick into the canyon, climbed into the Suburban and headed down the trail, but this time north, not south.
Jimmy sat back down, to rest or maybe to think. Possibly he needed to do both.
Can not wait to see what happens next--I will have to keep on writing.
Just a little excerpt from the chapter I am presently working on. (First Draft)
Jimmy heard the shot, flattened out in the sand of the dry creek and tried to quickly scoot backwards down the washed out canyon. He had not made it the twenty feet to the bend in the old creek bed when a startling reality came to him, he had not heard a slug hit and there was only one shot, again. Were they trying to scare him off, again? Or had someone shot at something else, maybe not him at all. His mind started to clear as he rethought the last thirty or so seconds. He slowly crept back to the spot where he had watched for the past hour or more. What he saw was strange or as Robert would say, “there is some weird stuff going on—supernatural---wo-oow-wo?”
The older, stockier, of the two men he had been watching was hitching the pick-up to the back of his Suburban. In what seemed like only seconds he brushed his hands on the back of his blue jeans, lit a new cigar and appeared to be laughing out loud. He flipped his match stick into the canyon, climbed into the Suburban and headed down the trail, but this time north, not south.
Jimmy sat back down, to rest or maybe to think. Possibly he needed to do both.
Can not wait to see what happens next--I will have to keep on writing.
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