When you write novels you are the creator of your own universe, the god of this self-made world. You have the power of life and death over the characters you create. As a result, I have in my Western novels killed dozens if not hundreds of characters, most of whom deserved it and a few who didn’t.
Of all those fatalities at my hand over the years, only one has plagued my conscience, and it came, ironically, in a children’s book titled “They Call Me Old Blue.” Now that the rights to that book have reverted back to me, Harriet and I will be publishing through our Bariso Press a new edition, which is now available for pre-order on Amazon.
They Call Me Old Blue is written in the style of Robert Lawson’s classic children’s book Ben and Me: An Astonishing Life of Benjamin Franklin by His Good Mouse Amos. In my book, the narrator instead of a mouse is Old Blue, the famous lead steer of pioneer rancher Charles Goodnight.
Old Blue tells his story of being born in South Texas and heading north with his friend Pokey, moving along the Pecos River into New Mexico Territory, where they endure an Indian attack. Both are struck by arrows, but poor Pokey dies from his wound, his last request being that Blue sees that his body gets back to Texas, an homage to Augustus “Gus” McCrae from Lonesome Dove.
Then Old Blue goes on to live a legendary Texas life, so much so that my father in a one-room West Texas schoolhouse learned about Old Blue and remembered him even in his later years. Now my five grandkids—The Grands as we call them—had never heard of this old steer until they either read the book or listened to their mothers reading it to them.
All was fine when the four granddaughters finished the story, but not so when our grandson Jackson, the youngest of The Grands, read the book with his mother. After learning of Pokey’s untimely demise, young Jackon, who was about seven at the time, burst out bawling. Our daughter sent us a photo of his crushing reaction.
From the day I received the photo until the present, I have regretted the death of Pokey, even though he, unlike Old Blue, was entirely fictional. Poor Jackson didn’t realize that and took the loss hard. So, Pokey’s demise still bothers me. It’s one of the hazards of being an author—and a grandfather!
So, as we republish They Call Me Old Blue, it reminds me of a poignant memory when my writing life intersected with my family life for a moment that still touches me today. They Call Me Old Blue is scheduled for release on February 3rd and is available for pre-order in trade paperback or Kindle formats on Amazon. It will be the first of five books—three reprints and two new volumes for middle readers —in what we are calling the Old West Critters Collection.
