THE WALKDOWN by Tom Rizzo

 

Today, 150 years ago, in the late afternoon of July 21, 1865, a man wearing a pair of 1851 Navy Colts strapped to his waist, ivory handles turned forward, walked along a street in Springfield, Missouri, heading for the town square—a walk that would launch a legend by nightfall.

The flat broad-brimmed hat he wore shaded his gray eyes and long, droopy mustache. Gambler and gunman James Butler Hickok, a former Union Army scout, approached the square from the south. 

He reached across his six-foot-three frame, pulled out one of the Colts, cocked it, and returned it the holster.

"So, this is what a professional gambler looks like," someone in the gathering crowd whispered. "Looks a bit of a dandy in my book."

Hickok, a physically imposing character, was a dandy, alright. Dandy with a Colt. The dark vest he wore accentuated his narrow waist and his riding britches were tucked inside a pair of custom-made top-boots.

Across the square stood gambler Davis Tutt, an ex-Confederate soldier. The night before, the two men—who were friends and often gambled together—engaged in a bitter argument during a poker game at the Lyon House. 

Some say the dispute may have been over a card game, or a woman. Others contend Tutt supposedly claimed Hickok owed him money from a previous wager.

Whatever the reason, Tutt snatched Hickok's prized gold-cased Waltham Repeater pocket watch off the table to keep as collateral. 

 

Adding verbal fuel to an already tense situation. He threatened to wear it in public to show the town Hickok didn't pay his debts. Tutt's action enraged Hickok, and the two men continued arguing. 

 

"I intend wearing it in the morning," Tutt vowed.

"If you do, I'll shoot you, and I warn you not to come across the square with it on," Hickok replied. 

('Putting upon him'- Dave Tutt takes Wild Bill's watch

from Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Feb 1867)

 
"I intend wearing it in the morning," Tutt vowed.

"If you do, I'll shoot you, and I warn you not to come across the square with it on," Hickok replied.

With the sun low in the sky, shadows crisscrossing the market square, the two men stood sideways, separated by about seventy-five yards, classic dueling stances. Hickok repeated his warning.

”Dave, here I am. Don't you come across here with that watch.” 

(Wild Bill Hickok vs. Dave Tutt: painting by Andy Thomas)

The two men went for their guns. Witness says each fired a single bullet at about the same time. Tutt’s shot went wild and missed. Hickok coolly took aim and drilled a round into Tutt's ribs.

“Boys, I’m killed,” Tutt cried out, staggering around for a few seconds before he collapsed and died.

The February 1867 edition of Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, featured an account of the gunfight written by Col. George Ward Nichols. The article, which came under heavy criticism for its numerous inaccuracies and exaggerations, carried a lengthy quote from Richard Bentley Owen, Hickok’s quartermaster during the Civil War.

“At that moment, you could have heard a pin drop in that squad. Both Tutt and Bill fired, but on discharge followed the other so quick that it’s hard to say which went off first. Tutt was a famous shot, but he missed this time; the ball from his pistol went over Bill’s head. The instant Bill fired, without waiting term see ef he had his Tutt, he wheeled on his heels and pointed his pistol at Tutt’s friends, who had already draw their weapons.”

According to Owen, Hickok said, “Aren’t yer satisfied, gentlemen? Put up your shooting-irons, or there’ll be more dead men here.”

The confrontation between Hickok and Tutt represented one of the few recorded instances on the American frontier involving a one-on-one duel to the death. 

Hickok was charged with murder the next day, but the it was subsequently changed to manslaughter and the case went to trial. 

On August 6th, the jury deliberated about "an hour or two," and acquitted him.

Hickok, better known as Wild Bill, made his way to the Plains of Kansas from Troy Grove, Illinois, where he was born in 1837. At age 20, he was elected constable of Monticello, Kansas, in 1855.

The so-called legend of Wild Bill Hickok got its start at Rock Creek Station, Nebraska, which served as a stop for overland stagecoaches and a Pony Express station. The place was owned by David McCanles, who sold it to Russell, Waddell, and Majors of the Pony Express.

The station had fallen on tough economic times— close to bankruptcy, in fact—and couldn't pay McCanles, who showed up at the station with his cousin James Wood and ranch hand James Gordon.

Wild Bill had just arrived in the middle of a heated argument between McCanles and Horace Wellman who operated the station.

Depending on which story is told, Wild Bill apparently stepped into the bitter exchange and ended up shooting and killing from inside the house. 

He also wounded Woods and Gordon. Wellman, or his wife, beat the wounded Woods to death with a hoe. And a shotgun blast by Hickok, or Wellman, finished off Gordon.

During a subsequent trial, Hickok and Wellman pleaded self-defense. As employees of the Overland Stage Company, one of the most powerful companies west of the Mississippi, the two men had plenty of influential friends at their backs. 

Hickok and Wellman were exonerated and, from that point, the legend grew thanks to an ambitious writer who exaggerated the story to the level and accuracy of a dime novel.

In 1866, Hickok served as Deputy U.S Marshal at Fort Riley. Three years later, he took a job as marshal of Hays, Kansas. 

But his reputation as a frontier legend suffered a blow when he mistakenly shot and killed his own deputy. 

He stepped away from his role as a lawman and - from 1872 to 1873 - toured the East with Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West Show.

Wild Bill ended up in Deadwood, South Dakota where, on the afternoon of August 2, 1876, he was killed by Jack McCall while playing cards at the #10 Saloon.

______

If you enjoyed this Story of the West, more await you in my new three-volume package, Tall Tales from the High Plains & Beyond. Book One: The Unexpected and Other Stories and Book Two: The Law Keepers are now available in soft-cover or eBook instant download. For a FREE SAMPLER of all three volumes, visit my website and leave your name and email address and get instant access.

 

DIALOGUE TAGS - by KEN FARMER

I was reading a blog the other day about the use of dialogue tags where the writer was saying to leave the creativity to the story or the dialogue itself. Of course, I've always found it humorous that a lot of people who write (blog) about how to tell the story or writing in general…have never done it for a living.

It's sort of like when I was studying drama or acting in college; that all the professors or instructors were academia based and had never actually trod the boards for pay…love it. In the first book I wrote some twenty years ago, I said, "I got a degree in college in drama…took me years to get over it."

But, I digress, this person was saying that all you needed when you wrote fiction were 'said' and 'asked' for tags. Oh, gag, puke. Well, to start with, what is a 'tag'? A TAG tells the reader who is speaking. A rather important function in my opinion. This blogger made the statement that the reader just reads right over them. Maybe true…and then again, maybe not. 

As a writer, I try to not be repetitive in words I use, whether it's someone's name or a general noun, adjective or adverb. I like to think I have a reasonably decent vocabulary. What if I had a line like this: 

The young teenage messenger sucked up his cinch, hopped up and stabbed his boot in the stirrup. The marshal followed, stabbed his boot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. His deputy, Bart, stabbed his boot in the stirrup and also mounted…I would venture to say that the reader would begin to get bored by the second 'stabbed'. -- Or - The major walked into the major's office, sat down at the major's desk, picked up the major's phone and said, "This is Major Turlow." - Okay, a little over the top, but you get the idea.

To me it would be the same if using repetitive tags as follows:

Jack picked up one of the small smoked turkey sandwiches and was looking it over. "Man would have to stand here fer mor'n a hour to make a meal on these little scudders," he said.

"Don't think they're designed to make a full dinner on, Uncle Jack," said Bodie. "Think you're supposed to just sorta git a sample of a bunch of stuff and put it on those little plates there."

"Well, now see. There you go again…I'd call them saucers, not plates. Why ain't hardly big as Bass' hand," said  Jack. 

"You talkin' 'bout me agin?" said Bass as he walked up.

"Not you…These tiny little things," Jack said as he held up one of the  finger sandwiches.

"Believe yer supposed to try one of everything," said Bass.

"That's what I told him, Bass…Hell, git one of those little sausages wrapped in bacon…I'd take the stick out first, though," said Bodie.

"You think?" Jack asked.

Or this way:

Jack picked up one of the small smoked turkey sandwiches and was looking it over. "Man would have to stand here fer mor'n a hour to make a meal on these little scudders."

"Don't think they're designed to make a full dinner on, Uncle Jack." Bodie grinned. "Think you're supposed to just sorta git a sample of a bunch of stuff and put it on those little plates there."

"Well, now see. There you go again…I'd call them saucers, not plates. Why ain't hardly big as Bass' hand."

"You talkin' 'bout me agin, Jack?" the big man commented as he walked up.

McGann turned. "Not you…These tiny little things." He held up one of the  finger sandwiches.

"Believe yer supposed to try one of everything."

"That's what I told him, Bass…Hell, git one of those little sausages wrapped in bacon…I'd take the stick out first, though."

Jack cocked his head. "You think?"

A GREAT STORY COMES FROM THE HEART...NOT THE HEAD. - KF

To me, if I notice the word being used repetitively, whether it's a tag or something else…it's too much. One, if there are only two people in the conversation, you only need to tag them once when you start, unless it's a three page conversation, then an occasional reminder will suffice. Don't spoon feed. Make the reader work for it a little. If it's three or more, now we get to be creative. We can use an action line like, Bodie grinned, instead of Bodie said or Jack cocked his head, instead of Jack asked. Oh, by the way, if you must use the tag asked, put it before the name, not after. You might be shocked of how something sounds when you're converting it to an audio book...just saying.

I, for one, however, if I have to use a tag instead of an action line, will never use the same one twice in a row. I went back to my book collection of one of my favorite authors and, I would have to say my inspiration to become a writer, Edgar Rice Burroughs. I suppose I have almost every book he ever wrote and several first editions. 

However, in thumbing through some of his novels, whether they be one of the twenty-six Tarzan books or The Mad King or one of his westerns I started to look for 'tags'. It was a rare instance where he used the same tag twice in succession. He would use; he added; she murmured; he at last shouted; replied Peter; commanded Tarzan; argued Zor; demanded Do-Gad and, of course, the occasional said and asked.

As an actor, I appreciate the writer's input, but more than that…please don't bore me with repetition.

One of my favorite quotes from ERB is: 

"I have been successful probably because I have always realized that I knew nothing about writing and have merely tried to tell an interesting story entertainingly."

That's my story and I'm sticking to it. More on dialogue and beats next time.

A GREAT BOOK LEAVES YOU WITH MANY EXPERIENCES...AND SLIGHTLY EXHAUSTED AT THE END. YOU CAN LIVE SEVERAL LIVES WHILE READING. - KF

EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS

 Ray Bradbury said of Burroughs that "Edgar Rice Burroughs never would have looked upon himself as a social mover and shaker with social obligations. But as it turns out – and I love to say it because it upsets everyone terribly – Burroughs is probably the most influential writer in the entire history of the world."^[20] Bradbury continued that "By giving romance and adventure to a whole generation of boys, Burroughs caused them to go out and decide to become special."

WF (Western Fictioneers) Peacemaker Award submissions

Submissions for the 6th Annual WF Peacemaker Awards are now being accepted for works published in the year 2015. 

Qualifications:

First time in print must be between January 1, 2015 and December 31, 2015, no reprints.  Limit of 2 entries per category.

Books and short stories may be published in any country in the world (submissions must be in English) in print or electronic format. Electronic submissions must be made with Kindle/mobi , or Word/text files. WF reserves the right to decline any submission for consideration of an Award.

Authors, agents, or publishers may submit a work for consideration of an Award.

At least three entrants in the Best Western First Novel must be received during the submission period for an Award to be presented.

Novels and short stories must be set in the time period between 1830-1920 to be considered Westerns under WF guidelines. Time periods beyond the 1830-1920 traditional western focus may be included in submissions as long as the periods outside of the 1830-1920 span constitute no more than 50% of the story. At least 50% of the story MUST TAKE PLACE in the 1830-1920 period. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Nominees for the WF Peacemaker Award will be announced on 05/15/2016 and the winners will be announced on 06/015/2016.

The WF Peacemaker Award will be awarded in four categories:

Best Western Novel – Any novel published during the award year set in the appropriate time period (1830-1920), 30,000 words and higher. There are no format requirements. The novel may be a hardcover, trade paperback, mass market paperback, or eBook.

Best Western YA/Children Fiction– Any fiction written for ages 1-17 published during the award year set in the appropriate time period (1830-1920). May be a hardcover, trade paperback, mass market paperback, or eBook.

Best Western Short Fiction – Any short story, novelette, or novella published during the award year set in the appropriate time period (1830-1920), 500 words to 29,999 words. There are no format requirements. The short story may be published in any publication, print or electronic.

Best Western First Novel – Must meet the same requirements as Best Novel, and must be the author’s first published Western novel. If the author has published novels in any other genre they will not disqualify the author from the Best Western First Novel Award competition. Submissions for Best Western First Novel may also be submitted in the Best Novel category in the same year.

Judges and forms can  be found on the Western Fictioneers website.

Wild West Words: 'Smile When You Say That, Mister'

By Kathleen Rice Adams

Insults and pejoratives have been around since man’s first spoken word. Below are some that were popular in the 19th-century American west. (Terms for food are here, women here, and outlaws here.)

Bigmouth: a person who talks too much, usually about something another doesn’t want discussed. American English, c. 1889.

Battle of Franklin, Nov. 30, 1864 (courtesy Library of Congress)

Bluebelly: from the early 1800s in the U.S. South, a derogatory term for a northerner; a Yankee. From about 1850, a pretentious, opinionated person. During the American Civil War (1861-1865), any Union sympathizer, especially a Union soldier. Union soldiers also were called blueskins, after the color of their uniforms.

Bottom-feeder: a reviled person, especially someone who uses a position of authority to abuse others; a lowlife. Originally used to describe fishes, the word became American slang c. 1866.

Dude: a fastidious man; fop or clotheshorse. The term originated in NYC c. 1880-1885; antecedents uncertain. Westerners picked up the word as derisive slang for any city dweller out of his element on the rough frontier. Cowboys used the phrase “duded up” to mean “dressed up.” Contemporary usage of “dude” as a minor term of endearment or indication of spiritual kinship arose in California’s surfer culture during the latter half of the 20th century.

Fiddleheaded: inane; lacking good sense; “possessing a head as hollow as a fiddle.” Arose c. 1854; American slang.

Grass-bellied: disparaging term for the prosperous (especially those whose prosperity had gone to their waist); originally applied to cattle whose stomachs were dangerously distended due to eating too much grass. The word arose prior to 1897, when it appeared in Owen Wister’s A Journey in Search of Christmas.

Confederate soldier re-enactors charge to battle during
150th anniversary of Battle of Gettysburg July 6, 2013
(courtesy E.J. Hersom, U.S. Department of Defense)

Grayback: Confederate soldier, based on the color of their coats. Arose during the American Civil War.

Greaser: derogatory term for a Hispanic of the lower classes. Arose in Texas before 1836.

Greenhorn: novice, neophyte, or newcomer; pejorative in the American west from at least 1885. In the mid-15th century the word meant any young horned animal; by the 17th century, it had been applied to new military recruits.

Heeler: unscrupulous political lackey. The U.S. slang meaning dates to about 1877, no doubt from the image of a dog following its master’s heels. The word “heel” took on that very meaning in 1810. Previously (dating to the 1660s), “heeler” described a person who attached heels to shoes.

Hellion: disorderly, troublesome, rowdy, or mischievous. Arose mid-1800s in the U.S. from Scottish and Northern English hallion, meaning “worthless fellow.” Americans may have changed the A to an E because "hell" seemed so appropriate (although the shift could as easily represent a simple mispronunciation that stuck).

"An East-Side Politician"
(Frederic Remington, 1894)

High-binder: swindler, confidence man, cheat (especially of the political variety). Americanism; arose 1800-10.

High yellow: offensive term for light-skinned person of mixed white and black ancestry. Arose about 1808 in the southern U.S. The term and the notion are reflected in popular songs of the mid-1800s, including the original lyrics for “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

Hustler: in 1825, a thief, especially one who roughed up his victims. By 1884, meaning had shifted to “energetic worker.” The sense “prostitute” arose c. 1924.

Lead-footed: slow and/or awkward. Arose as American slang c. 1896. By the late 1940s, thanks to the burgeoning interstate highway system in the U.S., the term had taken on the opposite meaning — “fast” — as a reference to a heavy foot on a vehicle’s accelerator.

Loco: Borrowed from Spanish about 1844, the word has the same meaning in both languages: “insane.” “Loco-weed,” meaning a species of plants that make cattle behave strangely, arose about 1877.

Loony: short for lunatic; possibly also influenced by the loon bird, known for its wild cry. American English. The adjective appeared in 1853; the noun followed in 1884. “Loony bin,” slang for insane asylum, arose 1919.

Lunk: slow-witted person. Americanism; first documented appearance was in Harper’s Weekly, May 1867. Probably shortened form of lunkhead, which arose in the U.S. about 1852.

Alexander W. Monroe, prominent
Virginia lawyer and politician,
1875. (courtesy West Virginia
Division of Culture and History)

Mouthpiece: from 1805, one who speaks on behalf of others. The word first became tied to lawyers — especially of the slimy variety — in 1857.

Mudsill: unflattering Confederate term for a Yankee. In the 1680s, the word meant “lowest sill of a house.” In March 1858, it entered American politics when James M. Hammond of South Carolina used the term derogatorily during a speech on the floor of the U.S. Senate. Yankees embraced the term as a way of flipping Rebs the proverbial bird.

Nuts: mentally unbalanced; crazy in a negative way. From 1846, based on an earlier (1785) expression “be nuts upon” (to be very fond of), which itself arose from the use of “nuts” for “any source of pleasure” (c. 1610). Oddly, “nut” also became a metaphorical term for “head” about 1846, probably arising from the use of "nuts" to describe a mental state. “Off one’s nut” as a slang synonym for “insane” arose c. 1860. The adjective nutty, i.e. “crazy,” appeared about 1898; nut as a substitute for “crazy person” didn’t arrive until 1903. (The related British term “nutter,” meaning insane person, first appeared in print 1958.)

Panhandle: to beg. Americanism c. 1849 as a derogatory comparison of a beggar’s outstretched hand to a pan’s handle. The noun panhandler followed in 1893.

Rawheel: newcomer; an inexperienced person. Exactly when the term arose is uncertain, but diaries indicate it was in use in California’s mining districts by 1849.

Redneck: uncouth hick. First documented use 1830. Originally applied to Scottish immigrants who wore red neck scarves during the American Colonial period, the word shifted meaning as it traveled west, possibly in reference to the notion farmers’ necks became sunburned because they looked down as they worked in their fields, leaving the backs of their necks exposed.

Secesh: short for secessionist. First recorded 1860 as a pejorative for Confederates during the American Civil War.

Sidewinder: dangerously cunning or devious person. Arose American west c. 1875 as a reference to some species of rattlesnakes’ “peculiar lateral movement.”

Son of a gun: politer version of the epithet “son of a bitch,” indicating extreme contempt. It’s unknown when the American figurative connotation arose, but the literal meaning appeared 1705-15 among the British navy, during a period when officers’ wives accompanied them to sea. Babies sometimes literally were born in the shadow of a gun carriage.

"The Squatters" by George Caleb Bingham, 1850
(courtesy The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston )

Squatter: settler who attempts to steal land belonging to someone else. Arose in Britain in 1788 as a reference to paupers occupying vacant buildings; first recorded use in the American west 1880.

Tenderfoot: newcomer; inexperienced person. Arose c. 1866 among miners, apparently in reference to an outsider’s need to “toughen his feet” in order to walk among rocks and stones where mining typically took place. Tender-footed, originally said of horses, leapt to humans in 1854 as a description of awkwardness or timidity.

Whippersnapper: young, presumptuous and/or impertinent person. The term arose in England c. 1665-1675, possibly as a variant of the much older (and obscure) “snippersnapper.” Modern Americans have Hollywood westerns to thank for inexorably associating the term with cranky elders in the Old West: the word was unknown prior to the popularity of western “talkies.”

Windbag: person who talks too much, especially in a self-aggrandizing way. First appearance in print 1827. Originally (late-15th C.) “bellows for an organ.”

Yellow-belly: from 1842, a Texian term for Mexican soldiers. Origin obscure, but possibly from traditional association of yellow with treachery or the yellow sashes that were part of a soldado’s uniform. Yellow became slang for “cowardly” c. 1856, but yellow-belly didn’t become synonymous with coward until 1924.

Yellow dog: contemptible person. First recorded use 1881, based on earlier meaning “mongrel” (c. 1770).

A Texan to the bone, Kathleen Rice Adams spends her days chasing news stories and her nights and weekends shooting it out with Wild West desperados. Leave the upstanding, law-abiding heroes to other folks. In Kathleen’s stories, even the good guys wear black hats. Visit her home on the range at KathleenRiceAdams.com.

Whooping It Up: Monte

When a new town popped up in the Old West, recreation was among the first of the services offered. And that recreation typically involved the "Three W's" -- whiskey, whoring and wagering. We've already dealt with the first two subjects, so let's talk about some of the many ways a cowboy could be parted from his money in a gambling hall.

Monte

(Monte bank, montebank, Spanish monte or Mexican monte)

This is a Spanish card game (and the national card game of Mexico) that came to the U.S. with the troops following the Mexican-American War. The game was originally played with Spanish playing cards, and later with special Monte cards or with modified standard decks of cards. It remained an extremely popular card game, even among the Native American tribes, throughout the 19^th Century.

Monte uses a deck of 40 cards – you remove the 10’s, 9’s and 8’s from a standard 52-card deck – and one or more people play against the house or a banker, who deals the cards.

In Mexican monte, or two-card monte, the play begins with the dealer drawing one card from the bottom of the deck and placing it face up on the table. This is called the bottom layout. Another card is drawn from the top of the deck to become the top layout, and is placed face up on the table closer to the dealer. The remaining stack of cards is called the monte, and is placed either in a monte box or simply stacked face down on the table in front of the dealer.

The players, sometimes known as punters, place bets on the layout of their choice (or on both), starting with the player to the banker’s right and continuing counter-clockwise around the table. Once all bets have been placed, the banker turns the monte face-up to show the top card, called the gate. If either of the two layouts match the suit of the gate, that layout wins. The banker takes the money from any losing layouts.

At the end of the hand, called the coup, the banker collects all losing bets and pays the winners one to one odds. He takes both layout cards and places them aside to form a discard pile, and turns the monte stack face down again, drawing the gate from the bottom and placing it onto the discard pile. The deck is not shuffled before the next coup.

The bank and deal remain with one player for five coups (six hands), or any lower amount agreed upon by the players. The deck is then reshuffled and passed to the player on the banker’s left, who becomes the new banker. At least ten cards must be left unplayed to prevent the players from guessing the remaining card suits. In some versions, the banker or dealer must have all of his money in plain sight on the table. If at any time the bank is emptied, the deck is reshuffled and play passes to the next banker.

Spanish monte, or four-card monte, is almost identical to the Mexican version, but the banker takes two bottom cards and two top cards to make four total layouts instead of two. This decreases the house odds somewhat, as there are often two layout cards of the same suit. Players may bet on either or both of the layout cards by placing their bet between the two instead of on top of one card. Players win any bets placed on cards matching the suit of the gate, even if there are several layout cards with matching suits.

J.E.S. Hays

www.jeshays.com

hays.jes@gmail.com

Sources:

FrontierGamblers.com

Wikipedia: Monte Bank

"From 0 TO 80 In a Few Weeks: Cheyenne and Laramie, Wyoming" by Steve Kohlhagen

If you go out and hop into your friendly neighborhood time machine in order to check out Cheyenne and Laramie, Wyoming in April of 1867, you will find............Well, you will find nothing.

Prairie dogs? Sure. Buffalo? Sure. Plains Indians? Sure. Plains? Sure. But settlers? None. Zero. Zilch. A few brave souls or miners riding by now and then, for sure. But no sign of anything approaching a town or a settlement. Maybe a cattle rancher dropping by for a speculative visit in case the rumors of the coming railroad were true.

And the rumors were true.

On July 5, 1867 a surveying party set up camp and established a land office at what would later become Cheyenne. They platted a town to serve the coming Union Pacific Railroad stop. And presto! Out of prairie dog villages, a boom town!

The first house was built. Then the first two story house was built, both that very month. When the railroad actually arrived four months later, on November 13, there were already 4,000 residents and a nearly two month old newspaper, The Cheyenne Leader. By all accounts, these 4,000 or so fortune seekers, saloon owners, "girls" and their employers, and gamblers were all "the scum of society."

Nevertheless, the citizens held a meeting on September 27 and decided to elect an (uninvited) delegate to Congress, which they did on October 8 (more than a month before the railroad would actually arrive). The settlers were excited about the coming cattle boom, but in no way were they ready to let any grass grow under their feet! When the first winter arrived 6,000 people had set up shop in "The Sodom of the West."

By January 1868, it was time to deal with the worst of the scum, and the town's vigilantes came into full swing, warning citizens explicitly to "Beware of the Vigilance Committee." At the end of 1868, by which time the railroad had reached westward to what would be Laramie, the town had three newspapers and three banks. Population estimates exceeding 50,000 were being thrown around. This was clearly too high, but the picture is clear. A more reliable estimate held that by 1871 an estimated 60,000 cattle were grazing within 100 miles of the town, where, a mere four years earlier, only antelope, buffalo, and prairie dogs had more or less quietly roamed the plains (see
http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/chey69.html for some fascinating pictures of this thriving town in 1868 and 1869.)

The same amazing story then moved 50 miles west. On to what was to become Laramie.

The land agent for the Union Pacific Railroad arrived at that spot in April, 1868 to find a tent city of 200 people anticipating his arrival. These hardy souls were already camped out in wagons, tents, sod-roofed dugouts, and railroad-tie cabins.

In the first week, four hundred town lots were sold. In the first two weeks, 500 "businesses" arrived.

On May 9, the final track was laid and on May 10, the first train arrived to find a thriving shack and tent city of 2,000 people, the vast majority of whom were described as "rakes," three card monte dealers, poker players, gamblers, their "shrill voiced painted consorts," and other "dregs." Various descriptions suggest that there were no churches, but there were already 23 saloons, and, in addition, several "hog ranches" and "parlor houses." The ratio of men to women was reportedly 6:1. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I'm guessing that there were very few housewives and schoolmarms among those 300 females.

By October, the population had soared to 5,000 in five months (amusingly, the 2010 census shows fewer than 31,000), and the good citizens, like their neighboring community of Cheyenne, 10 months older and 50 miles to the east, had had enough of their roaring carnival. On October 28, 1868 the "Vigilance Committee" arrested the three half brothers who had been terrifying what passed for the law abiding citizens. The three were arrested in their Bucket of Blood Saloon, and the citizens of the thriving five month old town awoke the next morning to the sight of them, and several of their comrades, hanging from various buildings on the public streets.

In a few short months, Laramie and Cheyenne had arrived as full-blown Western towns.

And---you guessed it (drum rolls to a shameful self-promotion)---both towns star in Chief of Thieves:

Where They Bury You, Chief of Thieves, Sunstone Press, is now available at Barnes & Noble and Amazon.

www.StevenWKohlhagen.com

Amazon Author Page

Facebook

Twitter: @StevenKohlhagen

stevekohlhagen@comcast.net

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

Happy 4th of July! If this rendition of the STAR SPANGLED BANNER doesn't give you chills I don't know what will!

HELLO FROM SARA BARNARD

As many of you know, I have to be seen at MD Anderson in Houston every three months as the result of a cancer diagnosis that shook my world just under a year ago -- it shook my world alright, and saved my life. Sound strange? It does to me, too, which is why I had to write about it, just to make it make sense. That book is almost done :-)

Well, check out some of our adventures while there . . .

We braved the beaches at the end of a jetty in Galveston . . .  this picture was taken just before my daughter's foot was stung by a jellyfish (we still don't know what kind) and we had our first encounter with a fin in the water . . .

This baby Bonnethead shark flopped up on the beach right behind the kids and me, at my husband and son's feet. I immediately snatched him up for a photo op. He was so sweet and precious!! I wondered how anyone could ever be scared of them. Then again, he was just a baby. I put him back in the water, he swam back to my feet . . . several times. The surf was so rough. Finally, I think he made it back out to the sea. I watched and watched for that sweet little fin.

Before my appointment, we made our pilgrimage to the Rain Forest Cafe. Not for the food, but for the river ride in the back! We had just come out of the ocean and were soaking wet and shivering in this picture!

After my appointment, and a good report (of only some changes, but none cancerous . . . back in three months) we lit out for Dallas where these beautiful kids were waiting for us! We named them Banana and Carrot. 

Until the next two baby goatlets (yes, I call them baby goatlets . . . I just can't call them kids. It feels wrong), arrive in August, I have this gorgeous book cover, compliments of Livia Reasoner, and upcoming release to keep me occupied!

Thanks for stopping by for a visit today!

A Little Help From My Friends

Well!  I will admit this has turned out to be a whole lot harder than I ever imagined.

When I committed to this first Monday of the month blog, I decided to use it to my advantage.  I needed to succeed at marketing my writing, selling my books, and building my brand.  What better forcing mechanism?

Past training dictated (no choice) that I immediately organize the blog into planning, action, and results. After a month, I remembered I am a writer and a little imagination brought plowing, sowing, and reaping.

To quote the Beatles, “With A Little Help From My Friends,” there seemed to be quite a bit to cover.  There continued to be the day-to-day writing and the not quite so day-to-day commitment to my own plowing, sewing, and reaping.  Six months into this it looked like my idea and energy had about run their course.  I considered aborting, leaving today’s first Monday a blank.  The result augured little more than the hole you leave when you take your hand out of a bucket of water.

Friends saved me again.

John Nesbitt and I had a long discussion about multiple marketing ideas, conferences, book store tours, and the problems of geography.  On the latter, I observe John has a towering reputation, a formidable body of work, and residence in Torrington, WY.  His natural market is .0019 (0.19%) of the population of book buyers.  Within about eight hundred miles he can expand it to 3.31% (.0331) of the population.  My version of that problem is that I have no reputation and I am about two thousand miles away from my (current) natural market.  When I travel to it, it is the same size as John’s.  We both have to find a way to reach larger markets.  As one means to overcome geography, we discussed using short stories as a marketing tool.

With the remarkable aura of modesty that accompanies him to every room he inhabits, John immediately points out that these ideas are not original with him.  He learned them from someone before he discussed them with me.  And I write them here, not new with me,  in the vein of standing on the shoulders of …….

Although I culled five stories from the chapters of my manuscript and worked through the year plus of submission and rejection agony to see them published before Every Soul Is Free was published, I never considered short stories as a marketing tool.  That long sentence almost adds up to an oxymoron.  I have viewed the world as composed of short story writers and novel writers, placing myself in the latter category.  (I even retained that view of the world after multiple readings of Stephen King’s On Writing.)  If a short story comes out of a novel I am writing, fine.  If I am diverting myself to write a short story.  No thanks.  I do not have the time.  As with so many of my fiercely held viewpoints, a little more nuance may be useful.
 
The usefulness, of course, remains at its highest when the short story can be lifted out of the novel.  It creates a pathway for the work as well as the author.  The pathway for the author, however, is the reason for viewing the short story as a marketing tool.  With rare exceptions the print magazine market is dead, so we focused our discussion on the online magazine market and the e-book market.  I have the experience mentioned above in the online magazine market but the insight to produce your own publishable e-book stories was the epiphany.  The notion is breadth – a short story for 49 cents or 99 cents and ultimately a collection for $2.99 and maybe someone asks you to be in an anthology.  Under any circumstances, your name is out there on a lot of titles.  I had never thought of before, and have yet to do it, but it is an antidote to the bottom of the well I was talking about at the beginning of this blog.  There is a lot to work on here.
 

While we are on the subject of e-books, the irrepressible L.J. Martin told me that his venture Wolfpack Publishing sold its millionth book a couple of Fridays ago.  I love the way that word feels in the mouth, millionth.  What interests me about what L.J. and his partner are doing is the potential power boost it can give to a back list.  I do not yet have one with two books published, but I have a friend who has five self-published (not Westerns) books.  I asked L.J. if it would be a benefit to refer him.  Visualize high-wattage smile and gale force enthusiasm, “Yes.”  So, I have put them in touch.  I’ll keep you posted.


If you remember a couple of blogs ago, Dusty Richards told us about an effort where his e-book publisher gave away 10,000 of his books and the result was to generate a sizable 1099.  We had a chance to talk about it.  I asked him how that worked.  Did he think the 10,000 who got a free book told people and those people bought one?  He allowed as how he did not know, all he knew was that it worked.  From other friends I hear that the free book strategy has not worked so well.  So, the free book strategy is still unclear to me.  Perhaps you have had some experience, good or bad, that you will share with us in the comments?


Another friend, Vonn McKee, told me about her ideas and plans, but I am sworn to secrecy. Sooo, this is but a teaser to pique your interest.

Circling back to the beginning, I find it a joy not to leave this first Monday blank and, once again, all because of a “Little Help From My Friends.”

E-mail Edward Massey with comments, author of 2014 Gold Quill winner, Every Soul Is Free and Amazon ABNA 2009 Quarter-finalist, Telluride Promise.