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Nightrider's Lament

"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)

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Tag: Cowboys Come Home

Horror and Relief

On February 23, 2017 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, February 23, 2017, 1:18 p.m. I have tried to find a market for my fiction. I don’t have lots of money to pay for the search. Five novels now. Six and seven in progress. Nothing makes me happier than the completion of a chapter, well, except, maybe, getting the whole yarn …

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I’ve Gotta Travel On

On January 27, 2017 By wastedpilgrimIn Life2 Comments

Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, January 26, 2017, 9:19 p.m. I haven’t spent a night away from home since last May, which is probably the longest stretch of my entire life. That’s going to change. I’m taking off. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Probably in a few days. Could be, oh, Sunday, or Monday, …

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Spanning My Literary Globe

On January 23, 2017 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

Clinton, South Carolina, Monday, January 23, 2017, 9:35 a.m.   I had another brainstorm overnight. I’m working on two literary projects. One I’ve been working on for several months. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is up to about 80,000 words in first draft. Two weeks ago, another sleepless night led me to a second project, tentatively …

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The Eve of Ruination

On January 12, 2017 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, January 12, 2017, 11:50 a.m. I am in a state of paralysis. I haven’t ground completely to a halt. In half a day, I’ve written 305 words of fiction. They’re 305 decent words, so, like Bill Murray in Caddy Shack, I’ve got that going for me. I am depressed. Not clinically …

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Comedy Remains Elusive

On January 5, 2017 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, January 5, 2017, 9:32 a.m. Try as I might, I don’t seem to be able to write a comedy. Oh, a couple of years ago, I took a stab at it. My third novel, Crazy of Natural Causes, was funny at times. It was a fable of life’s absurdity, but I …

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The Way I Write the Things I Write

On December 22, 2016December 22, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

  I have demonstrated my allegiance to fiction. At present, I am about seventy-five percent done with what will become my sixth novel. Three – Crazy of Natural Causes (2015), Forgive Us Our Trespasses (2016), and Cowboys Come Home (2016) -- have been published in the past two years. It appears likely that Don’t Ask, …

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Writing the Ages I’ve Been

On December 14, 2016December 14, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

Not too long ago, I stumbled across a quotation: The great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the ages you have been. – Madeleine L’Engle. All I know about Ms. L’Engle besides that sentence is that she was an American novelist who was born in 1918 and died in 2007. That’s …

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Read My Books, Save Your Money, and Hope for the Best

On December 11, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

  Army beat Navy. Anything's possible. Sure, Donald Trump was there, and he shared the TV booth for a while, saying his usual nothings to Verne Lundquist and Gary Danielson. I'm trying my best to respect the office in spite of the man who will soon occupy it. I still have friends who think it's …

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One Big Hullabaloo

On December 4, 2016December 4, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

In the 1960s and ‘70s, pop-music shows became popular on network TV. It was common for me to come home from a high school football game and, unable to sleep after either good or bad performances (mostly the latter), watch In Concert and The Midnight Special. In the ‘60s, a couple were on network TV. …

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Moving Right Along

On November 30, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

Local sports are dying down, or at least the willingness of others to hire me to write about them, for now. The football teams have entered and exited the playoffs. Rain has returned to the Desert Southeast, and smoke from the mountains is at last on the wane. All I know to do is keep …

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