fiction, reading, Uncategorized

Remembering Books

We were talking about books we enjoyed, and books we hated, that we’ve read in years past, and I was reminded on one I’d fogotten, but had loved as a young girl.

Sweet, silly, but very much in line with what I was as a girl: a tomboy, a loner, and as self-sufficient as I could manage. I taught myself survival skills, and absorbed them from books, family, and anyone I could sit quietly and listen to. I remember being terribly disappointed in Robinson Carusoe, as it was dull and preachy rather than being the rousing adventure tale I wanted, something like Swiss Family Robinson, which was my mother’s favorite book.

Another author I wish there were more of his stuff, or someone who wrote like him, is Louis L’Amour. I grew up reading him, Zane Grey, and a forgotten author, William McLeod Raine. I so wanted to be in that time, where the men were tough, and the women tougher, holding the farm together while the men were off yondering.

And here’s a free book by my forgotten Western author, click on the cover…

I want to write a Western in the old style, not that my hero will wear a white hat, but that I can go back to those childhood wishes and remember the cowboys I’ve known, and the saddles I’ve ridden in. Growing up riding mustangs and listening to an old Bull Rider spin tales would be a fun thing to translate into a story…

There are so many oldies that I want to go back and re-read, but there are so many new titles, too. It’s hard to decide sometimes. And the old ones don’t always translate to reading again with older perspective. Some books change entirely, although the words on the page are the same. Others stay the same, and are a comfort to slip back into that world like visiting with old friends.

Today, if I have time to read, I have a book on the Kindle I promised to review, so my reading will be a duty. But I hope for good stories, interesting characters, and a compelling world. And maybe I’ll make time for an old friend, later.