I have always loved westerns. Be it in books or film. From the past. I was lucky enough as a kid to have a horse, a pony. We called her BUBBLES. Why, I have no idea. I rode her mostly bareback. She had a tendency to buck me off over her head. My mom would put me back on.
I would later spend time working on a ranch for a couple of weeks one summer. And loved it. You sit back against the saddle and stay there by gripping with the knees.
I’m working on a western having already turned it into a screenplay. Then it hit me I should also write it as a book. I’m on perhaps the final draft now. Then again it may need another draft or two, or three.
Below are bits and pieces of it as a novel, just to give me the feeling of how it is working out.
*****
Mike Farnsworth moved among the horses and cowhands. If the win at calf roping pleased him, he didn’t show it.
“You could’ve skimmed a second off easy,” Farnsworth Sr. said, limping along beside him. “Make up for it in bronc riding.”
*****
The bronc bucked twisting in mid-air, landing on all fours to spin in endless circles. It snapped Mike clear of the saddle.
He hit the ground hard under the horse’s thrashing hooves.
A collective groan rose from the crowd.
“I told you to go easy on him,” Gideon said to Zacbariah.
Author’s comment: What I haven’t mentioned is Mike Farnsworth finds himself back in time. To the 1880s. And that’s where the fun begins.
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