Friday, December 14, 2007


I've haven't been writing much, not here on my blog, not even on my novel that is dying a slow death. I'm not giving up, but that is the truth of it. I used to blog almost every day, and the confidence it gave me was energizing. Without it, I'm losing my flare. The words that come to mind are empty, repetitive and boring. So I need to back in gear. It has been suggested to me in the past that if I put so much energy into my blog that I would burn out for the real thing. I think I might have bought into that in a small way.

Anyway, I happened upon a contest that one of my fellow bloggers is having, and in the absence of any motivation whatsoever to do work yesterday afternoon, I applied myself to submitting an entry.

I've always wanted to write a western. You may or may not know that my avatar is a picture of the great Wyatt Earp. I love country music, or at least I used to. It's changed, and that's just the way it goes. When my dad complained about it, I didn't listen, so I won't expect any sympathy. But it's not the same anymore. You may have read somewhere that my favorite team is the Cowboys. Coincidence? I think not.

I don't watch westerns and I don't read them, except for Lonesome Dove, which is a masterpiece of literature by Larry McMurtry. I make no lofty claims to be near as talented, but one has to start somewhere.

Here's hoping I don't fall off the wagon again. It's time to get back to the routine of writing every day, whether it is here or elsewhere.

So thanks Bernita for having this contest. And I hope to see that Jason has some more in the near future.

Here is my entry:


Bobby snatched his pistol from his right hip holster and started into his pivot—

Crunch, head jerked forward, ringing like a gong.

Dog tired.

"Whoa. It weren't that hard," a gruff voice said. A tug on his gun hand. "Now gimme that." The loss jarred Bobby awake. The Colt. His daddy's Colt.

"That there was a love tap t'get yer attention." Cole spiked the shovel into the dirt a hairs breadth from the tip of Bobby's boot. "Now dig."

"You gonna do for me like you did my daddy?" Bobby rubbed the back of his head. Bone dry.

"You ain't never had no sense, Bobby."

"So you sayin' it ain't so?"

"I said dig."


Cole trained the Colt on Bobby's forehead and thumbed back the hammer. "This thing loaded?"

Eyes locked on Cole's, Bobby snatched the shovel and heeled it into the soft earth. "Six feet I reckon?"

The sun turned orange and dipped over the horizon. Bobby looked up in the failing light, neck-deep now in the hole. Cole's face stared down, aglow from the tip of a cigarette.

"The Beaton boys hung your daddy from that branch right there." Cole pointed.

"That's a damned lie. It was you kilt him--for the stolen bank money! "

"No, but they did. Do I look like a rich man?"

Bobby's shovel bit into ground with a hollow thunk.

"He died so's when his boy become a man he'd have the chance his daddy never had."


Bernita said...

Thank you , Scott, for you entry.

Dixie Belle said...

Hey Scott
Click on the Fickle Witch on my blog links to find the ever elusive Jane. I need to be writing too but I'm distracted by all this holiday stuff.

Jaye Wells said...

I commented over at Bernita's but I really liked this, Scott. You've got a knack for capturing the voice of these characters without overdoing it.

Bailey Stewart said...

I agree with Jaye - no matter what style you're writing, you have this amazing ability to capture the essence of the piece. Good job.

Scott said...

Bernita - How could I resist?

Dixie - Just don't you go hiding and flopping blogs, at least without telling me!

Jaye - Yeah, I saw your comment. I really appreciate that. I was kind of wondering how the western-speak came off. At first I was a bit shy of giving it a try, but what the hell. Nice to get your feedback.

Bailey - Music to my eyes, Bailey. Thanks.

Sarah Hina said...

Scott, I have found that blogging has energized my writing again. Yes, it has taken time away from novel writing, but that wasn't happening much, anyway. Now I've rediscovered my joy in language, and I enjoy the benefit of instant feedback (thank you, by the way, for stopping by my blog!). I figure that one of these days, the urge to write my novel will flare again, and I'll be ready to really apply myself, with some refined tools in my arsenal. Anyway, just something to consider. :)

I really did enjoy your entry. The dialogue, pacing, and curveball ending were all very accomplished, and highly entertaining. Looking forward to reading more of your writing in the future!

The Zombieslayer said...

I found actually the opposite. Writing on the blog clears me of the extra fluff so I could write my personal stuff without the fluff getting in the way.

Since I've been blogging, I've written over eight complete television episodes for something I want to self-produce. No, nobody will see it for awhile. I'd rather be in the position to produce it myself then sell it and watch someone else get rich off of it.

Nice entry. Weird thing is, I see the father's sacrifice as something personal. Was that subconsciously intended?

Jada's Gigi said...

WElcome back to blogland..loved your post to jackson...can't stop to read your entry just now but glad you are writing again..we all lose our steam from time to time...Merry christmas to you and yours!

Scott said...

Sarah - Glad to hear you'll be back around. Thanks again.

Zombie - No, I don't think there is anything personal about it. My father made no sacrifices that I know of for me. In fact, I would venture that if the choice were his I wouldn't be here today. But many parents could say that same thing. I'm an idealist in theory, and this is how a father would behave if he were just so.

You wrote television episodes!? Wow.

Cheryl - Merry Christmas to you too! See on your next go around.

Beth said...

Well done, Scott. This had a different feeling for you. Some of the sentences were tight, clipped, two words, not like you at all, but in a good way. VERY surprised with the ending!

It's good to see you back. Now if we could just drag Mr. Schprock back into the mix. =)

Scott said...

Beth - The shortened phrases are a result of what I've been getting for critiques (from Jason mostly), and seeing what some of the modern authors are doing with their writing. Space constraints too. I'm still not doing it to the extent I've been reading. It will take some getting used to.

Check out my sidebar. If you want an extreme example of the style to which I refer, see Inside by Kenneth J. Harvey. The Cormac McCarthy book was more of a style I could possibly follow however, which is somewhere in between what I do and what Harvey does.

As for Mr. Schprock, I think he just has a lot on his mind lately. I would like to see more of him online too, but I think it may be a while before he's back.

Toni Anderson said...

I like it :)

I know you can waste a lot of time in blogland that you could spend writing. But I like the connections I make out here. Makes me feel more confident and more a part of the world when I'm sitting home alone :)

Beth said...

Scott, yes, I don't deal well when a whole book has staccato sentences. Oh boy, not at all. Instead of building suspense it just sounds retarded. In my opinion, anyway. I mean Dickens didn't do it, neither did Fitzgerald, and then there's Irving (my favorite living), but I think everyone has their own unique style. I thought you were just punching this one up for the western effect, which was effective!

You are bold. I'd never change my style of writing for anyone. It's what makes it mine.

And I'll comment on Romo on the Romo post.