Dac Crossley's Western Blog

"Dac" The Halls...

Okay, it’s a stretch, but it’s the Holiday Season!

Yesterday afternoon, friends decorated my house for Christmas. The good old wreaths, garlands and do-dads down from the attic, still serviceable. A plastic tree re-assembled and plugged in. Thanks to all.

In the evening, seasonal Texas refreshments: Chili and tamales (of course!). A glass or two. And then music. Guitars, a blue-grass fiddle and a true-voice chanteuse, and we eased our way though the old Christmas carols. Each brings a special set of memories.

Silent Night. That has to be the first for little children, simple melody easily sung, lost in early childhood memory. But Mahalia Jackson owns it!

O Little Town of Bethlehem. Takes me back to my father’s short-wave radio (a Sky Buddy), and the London Symphony and Big Ben on New Year’s eve.

We Three Kings. A church play in Knoxville, each of the kings walking in turn, up to the stage. A Boy Scout meeting, an upper room on Fifth Street in Kingsville, Texas. And a parody, sung loudly by a first-grader.

Adeste Fideles. I can hear Bing sing it. And I probably will, again this Season.

Jingle Bells. Somehow this song evokes the Budweiser Clydesdales in a TV commercial. Their sleigh bells did jingle. Sleigh rides – our grandchildren will never know that pleasure.

And so on, fumbling through guitar chords, saved by the pure voice of Christine R.

What shards of your Christmas memories return with the good ole carols?

Dac Crossley
11/30/2010

“Mother took me to see a department store to see Santa. He asked for my autograph.” – Shirley Temple.

Remembering The Christmas Play

Loss of an old friend prompted me to dig out a ragged photo – the cast of a Christmas Play by the First Grade Class in Flato School, Kingsville, Texas, back in 1934. We children were just getting acquainted, our first few months together. Later along, many of us shared grade school and high school, too. Thanks to the wonder of e-mail, some of us still communicate.

There we were: Toy soldiers, clowns, snowflakes, aviators - the action heroes of 1934 - and children in bathrobes. That was the part I played. A child having a dream under the Christmas tree.

Christmas became a shared experience in those early years of grade school, an experience that raised the level of excitement, the anticipation of gifts galore. We'd lost Santa Claus, yes, but hadn't yet measured the desperation of adulthood.

Or had we? My memory fragments of Christmas in the early years have a tinge of uneasiness about them. Hard times, desperate times for some, our parents worried about the future. The big Depression sat hard in those winter days. Certainly our parents tried to shield us kids from those worries; still, we must have sensed their emotions.

There are desperate times for parents today, in this "Recession" of ours. December is still cold and dark for too many of us. Let's help wherever we can, okay?

So long, Les. See you down the road.

Dac Crossley
11/28/2010

"We read to know that we are not alone." - C. S. Lewis

Turning an Old Leaf...

I was raised on the South Texas Plains, amid the quiet beauty of the mesquites and patches of variegated chaparral. Transplanted to the Southeast some 50 years ago, I still return to the plains for renewal of my roots.

The Eastern Deciduous Forest is cool, moist and shady - everything the Plains aren't. But it sure has it's moments, and autumn is one of them.

We old-time Darwinists believe that natural selection has shaped our environments; that even a small selective advantage will persist until replaced by something a bit better.

So, what is accomplished by those colorful autumn parades? What's the advantage to a forest or to a tree, to offer its dying foliage in such an array of brilliant colors?

A moment to appreciate - a point to ponder.

Dac Crossley
11/20/2010

"Miracles are propitious accidents, the natural causes of which are too complicated to be readily understood." - George Santayana

Signing the Alamo

Escape from the Alamo is in hand and I’ll have the first book signing on December 2, here in Athens, GA, at a new indie book store – Dog Ear Books.

That’s the drawback with self-publication (and small presses as well) – no built-in system of distribution. We go on personal contacts and smaller venues, not the big boxes.

That’s okay with me. I enjoy meeting people, new friends who want to talk about Texas and the Texas Rangers and telling their own stories.

There’s always good old Amazon, too. And friends who request signed copies by mail, always welcome.

(I have a new shipment of books. I’ll send you Escape from the Alamo for $14 postpaid, personally signed and endorsed. I also have the first two novels for $ 12 each).

And the electronic books. You can buy Escape for the Kindle from Amazon. My fellow Texas writer, Celia Y., is selling her novels as PDFs.

Earlier I posted a query – do you think e-books will replace printed? Most who responded said they like the feel of the paper – but a surprising number spoke well of e-books. I believe they’ll become more popular as the readers improve. I am enjoying books on my iPad.

So, here come the Holidays. Put books onto your gift list. Always.

Dac Crossley
11/18/2010

“Politics is show business for ugly people.” – Jay Leno

Escape and Cruise

I suppose everyone has seen the TV images of the cruise ship Carnival Splendor. Engines disabled by fire, towed to port, passengers without cold food or telephones – or toilets! Deliriously happy to arrive in Long Beach.

That is the very ship I had planned to board on this coming Sunday, for a Mystery Cruise – Writers, Agents, Editors on the high seas. A chance to pitch my novels to yet another audience. With my writing partner, Paige C.

it won't happen. Carnival Cruises cancelled and offers us refunds.

You know that feeling when your Wednesday isn’t going well, all blocked up and frustrated – and then you realize – hey, it’s not Wednesday, it’s only Tuesday! I’ve got another day.

That was my reaction to the cancelled cruise. Hooray, I’ve been given another week! Another eight days to finalize book sales, reorganize my life, and write. No more cruise for me, thank you very much!

I'll accept the gift of time. And begin mailing copies of Escape from the Alamo. Which, by the way, is now available from Amazon as an e-book on Kindle as well as in print.

I plan to reserve that cancelled airline ticket for a trip back to Texas before the year is out. If you’re living in South Texas, look out! I might show up on your doorstep.

And a moment’s pause for Veteran’s Day and its honorees.

Dac Crossley
11/11/201

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.” – George Santayana

Release of "Escape from the Alamo"

I’m proud to announce – my latest western novel, Escape from the Alamo, is now available at Amazon.com! Just in time for the holidays! I’ve asked for a Kindle edition too; haven’t heard from them yet.

I’m selling Escape from the Alamo myself, later on this month. You see, there’s this mystery writer’s cruise next week – Paige C., Mike S. and I will drift through the Pacific waters along the Baja peninsula. I’ll get back just before Thanksgiving.

So, if you want your copy of Escape from the Alamo signed and personalized by the author, you can order from me and I’ll deliver after Thanksgiving. Fourteen dollars a copy, postpaid. Amazon lists the book at $ 12.95 plus shipping. With no autograph.

And don't forget Return of the Texas Ranger and Guns Across the Rio, available from me for fourteen dollars a copy. Same deal. Great Christmas presents for friends with long memories.

And – today is my last chance to be 83 years old. Where did it all go?

Cheers,

Dac Crossley
11/5/2010

“Growing old is no more than a bad habit, which a busy man has no time to form.” – Andre Maurois

Living in the Waiting Room

Last night at a writer’s session, I heard Deborah R. read from her short article, “The Waiting Room.” She wrote of a waiting room in an oncology clinic. Uncomfortable chairs with thin cushions. Aseptic odor in the air. Acrylic, nondescript pictures and wire racks of magazines and pamphlets.

And silent, stone-faced people waiting to receive the clinician’s sentence – life or death.

Deborah is a poet; her images are powerful. As she read, I thought:

We all live in a waiting room. All of us.

Perhaps it’s another birthday looking me in the face. Or the prospect of a dreary autumn, cool and rainy – the temporary nature of our trip through this pond of earth, oars sluggish in still water – I found myself studying my fellow writers. Our evening gathering, an instant never to be re-lived. All of us: Expand your senses, relish the companionship, in this: Our Waiting Room. Paso por aquí.

Thank you, Phoenix.

Dac Crossley
11/3/2010

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present.” – Buddha.

Escape from the Alamo should be available in a few days. I’ll have copies to sign, along about Thanksgiving.