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On Cowboys
Posted in Book Research The Kitchen Sink on Tue, August 16, 2011
About year and a half ago, I poked my dad in the shoulder. “Dad, I need to go on a—“ I held my fingers in the air—invisible quotation marks. “‘Research’ trip to Texas.” He stood up and ran his fingers along the inside of his belt. “When’re we leaving?”
My dad grew up the son of a Texas barber. To find and keep steady work following the Depression, my dad’s parents stayed close to military bases in and around west Texas. That meant that my dad grew up working the oil fields and playing football on dusty stretches of pasture. Which meant I grew up listening to stories about Texas.
As a kid, all I ever wanted to be was a cowboy. Some of my earliest memories include me wearing boots, a hat, a two holster belt and footed pajamas. My favorite book was The Brave Cowboy by Joan Walsh Anglund followed closely by Louis La’Mour and The Sacketts. Wasn’t long after that I graduated to movies—I remember watching Rio Lobo with a bucket of popcorn on my lap in the San Marco theatre. I cried the first time I saw John Wayne die in The Cowboys and when the bartender shot him in the back in The Shootist, I sobbed so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. As a teenager, I teared up when Josey Wales rode off into the sunset, the blood dripping off his boot. And as a freshman in college, my heart broke when Tommy Lee Jones lie in the river and held Robert Duvall’s mummified body at the conclusion of Lonesome Dove.
Let me put this in perspective for you—when I was about ten, give or take, I was in my room getting ready for school and listening to the radio. The station was set to the same station all my friends listened to cause that was cool—some rock station with an obnoxious DJ. Anyway, I was rocking out when my dad passed by my room en route to the kitchen. He stuck his head in my door, listened, then adjusted the dial. “Son, you can listen to this—“ If I remember right it was Sandy Patty on some Christian station. “Or—“ He turned the knob and, said, “This.” So help me, this is what I heard. “Cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold.” (For those of you who don’t know, that’s Waylon and Willie singing, ‘My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys.’) I nodded at the radio. “That.” And it stayed there through high school and college and if you press me I can still recite most of Garth Brooks‘ ‘Cowboy Bill‘ by heart.
Cowboys with their stubborn notions and their slow-moving ways weren’t just a passing fancy at my house and if you think this affection has left me, it hasn’t. Last year, when Jeff Bridges starred in the remake of True Grit, my boys and I were sitting in the first showing opening night.
We drove west on I-10 out of Florida, through Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana,then on into Texas, through Dallas, Fort Worth, and finally onto old Highway 180 which took us through map dots like Weatherford, Mineral Wells, Palo Pinto, Caddo, Snyder and then up to Post and Fluvana. We drove slowly, took our time, and stopped at every historical marker we saw. I quit counting after fifty. The further into Texas we drove, the more stories I heard. We passed the great Fort Worth Stockyards, the small building where my grandfather had his barber shop and where I—in the recesses of my mind—can remember sitting in his chair while he stropped his razor and then rubbed that warm cream on my neck. We drove past towns and fields where dad had played football, dated girls and survived a car wreck caused by a drunk man on a horse.
We detoured south to Waco and the Texas Ranger Hall of Fame. Then San Antone and the Alamo where I remembered my fist visit there as a kid when I stared out across that little wall, standing alongside Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie and Sam Houston as Santa Anna and all of Mexico bore down on us.
Several days into our trip, somewhere out Hwy 180, in a section of highway known only to deer and God, we stopped to read an historical marker at a fallen down windmill and an upturned piece of stone. Shrub brush, tumbleweeds, barbed wire and the smell of cows. Sat up on a small rise, Texas stretching out for sixty miles in either direction. Turns out that watering hole was once a stop on the Pony Express. The Pony Express! I remember tipping my hat, staring east, then west and imagining a lone rider, armed with little more than a couple of pistols and a rifle, maybe a days’ rations, dust swirling behind him, a girl somewhere waiting for him—the wind tugging at a yellow ribbon in her hair. I remember hearing the echo of Glen Ford quoting Tennyson to Tom Selleck and Ben Johnson in the made for TV movie, Sacketts: Fill the can and fill the cup, all the windy ways of man are but dust, that rises up and is lightly laid again. Then I remember taking off my hat and thinking, “This right here—this is Texas.”
When my dad and I got to Fluvana, he began looking out the window and then said, “Slow down.” From there I followed his finger. “Pull off.” We drove up a narrow, red dirt road barricaded by rusty, slow-moving oil derricks. Silent sentinels. Dad nodded. “We built that one. And that one.” I took his picture. A few hundred yards later, he pointed below the truck. “After work, I’d put on my cleats and run wind sprints right here.” (Dad later earned a scholarship to the University of Florida—which explains why I’m writing this from Florida and not Texas) Out the windshield, the Llano Estacado, the southern tip of the Great Plains, rose up like a giant wall climbing several hundred vertical feet in the air. Around the next turn, a dilapidated, white bunk house, sat concealed and flaking in the brush. A well, outhouse and windmill off to one side. Dad smiled.
Back in Fort Worth—on what happened to be the night of the historic Fort Worth Rodeo—we starched our Wranglers, polished our boots, pulled our hats down tight, ate a steak and clanked our beer bottles at the Stockyards Hotel bar before hitching a ride downtown to the same coliseum where my dad fought in the golden gloves sixty years prior.
In two weeks, we put over four thousand magical miles on my truck.
As a kid, I placed the cowboy on a pedestal for the same reasons that all of us did. As an adult driving across Texas, I began articulating a question that had been on the tip of my tongue for the better part of a couple of years: what good is it if he (the cowboy) is real good at fighting with his hands, but can’t hit the broad side of barn with his heart? I operate on the fundamental assumption that the most powerful weapon in the universe is not a man with a gun, or a tank, or a nuclear bomb, but that pumping thing in the center of our chest. Battles might be won with weaponry, but wars are won with heart.
Us guys like to watch movies and read books about the baddest dudes on the planet who can fight all of Russia and China with one arm tied behind their back. Admittedly, I am one of them. Ask Christy, she will confirm this. We’ll be lying in bed, I’m flipping channels, and I turn and say, “You want to watch xyz movie?” She lifts one eyebrow, glancing over the page of her book. “How many people die?”
Admittedly, when the movie ends, we are left with a man who is good at fighting with his fists. Not his heart. (Yes, there are exceptions.) And while that is cool, it is of limited value.
We forget this part.
So, driving east on I-10, Texas in my rear view, I got to thinking—What if I could write about a guy who is wrestling with that very idea and, yet, sees his own weakness—that he only lives out of half his heart? Who knows that despite his professionalism and proficiency and accomplishment, he is, at best, half a man living with the constant ache and knowledge that he is half-dead. (There is a reason for this.) Before I’d crossed the Texas/Louisiana line, I’d decided that that man’s story would be a story I’d like to write.
“Thunder and Rain” is that story.
You might find my romantic notions a bit corny, but it’s out of that romance that “Thunder and Rain” grew. It’s wrapped around my DNA. Unwind it and you might as well take the words out of the book—leaving you with a sketchpad.
For those of you that I’ve turned off with the knowledge that I’ve written a book about a cowboy, don’t worry. Christy liked it and she’s s tougher critic than most of you. (Note: I said, ‘most.’)
The cowboy, both the real one and the idealized one inside my head, spoke something my insides needed to hear. Something I’ve tried to put into the pages of this book. It’s a story that’s been bubbling in me a long, long time. Readers routinely ask me, ‘What’s your favorite book?‘ My answer is simple—You might as well line up my three boys and ask me who I love the most. An impossibility. But, I will say this—finishing “Thunder and Rain” did something deep in me that no book yet has done.
“Thunder and Rain” is on shelves as of April 1st, 2012.
I am so excited you have a book coming out in April !!! I am a huge fan. I am a fan of cowboys too & I know this book will be wonderful. Thanks for writing from your heart .
Deena Adams
Come on April!!
Can’t wait for this to hit the shelves. I am a librarian and discovered your books about three or four years ago. I have recommended them to many patrons and never has anyone read one, that they didn’t come back and want more. A lady in yesterday asked me, “Do you know of any other authors that write like this man does? I’ve read all of his now.” Keep on speaking to our hearts! What wonderful stories you weave.
I live in Northern Cattle Country: the wide open plains of Eastern Montana, married to the son of a Texas cattleman who is the son of a Texas oil man. So far I’ve loved ever book you’ve written, and cried in most of them (especially Where the River Ends--I’m a breast cancer survivor). To say you whet my appetite, would be an extreme understatement. I wish it was coming out tomorrow! Looking forward to it!
There is craft and then there’s art. The difference is not how well executed the piece is, the difference is the truth at the heart of it. Art lives on and speaks to many generations. Charles Martin writes artful pieces that will last. He has said something in each of his books that touches and rings true in my heart and spirit.
So excited to hear about the new book. I’ll be looking for it in April!
Can’t wait to read it! I’m a fan of cowboys too. Always thought I’d marry one (never dreamed I’d end up living in Texas though, and that’s where I am now!). I’m raising up a couple of little cowpokes too. :)
Very exciting news!!! I too am looking forward to April so I can get my hands on this book!!! I love the idea....not many books that I have read are from the mans perspectve...genuinely looking forward to this read!!!! My daddy and his daddy worked in the oilfield. This is a story that I can tell I will love!!! I live in Louisiana..... now, I’m excited!!!
I can’t wait! When I was young I always wanted to grow up to marry a Cowboy! I married a south GA. redneck instead. After 33 years I’ll keep him but oh, so wish he wore cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat everyday :) See ya in April!
I can’t wait! Have LOVED all of your books and eagerly await the next publication. Congratulations and loads of love. One of your admiring Nashville cousins, Margaret. :)
April hurry up..............I LOVE your books and always look forward to a new one.
Good for you!!! I am really looking forward to the book and have no doubt that it will be a great read!! Blessings…
Wait a minute. You said April 1st, 2012. That would be the “ultimate April Fools joke” ... but oh so mean! You wouldn’t tease us like that would you? Please say it ain’t so! ;) Can’t wait ... bring on “Thunder and Rain”
My great-great grandparents are buried in the Fluvana cemetery which is carved out of the middle of nowhere. We made a pilgrimage out there a few years ago to see it and understand. That’s where my great-grandma Myrtle and her family ended up settling when they came to Texas in their wagon. It was the 20th century, but they were too poor for a car. She raised my grandpa, her oldest of seven, out in West Texas too, in a tent, following the work on the railroads. He didn’t see a chair with a back until he was 10. And they picked cotton in the fields near the railroad. Family legend says they picked cotton with Willy Nelson. I’m a born and bred Texan and even though I’m a city girl, pretty far removed from my ancestor’s life, I am so excited to read Thunder and Rain.
Dear friend Charles,
Not only are you one of my favorite authors ever !, now you have gone and written about my most favorite subject ever !!! Can’t wait to read Thunder and Rain. I’ve just finished reading your blog posting about your Texas trip. Beautiful. My brother and I have made trips out Texas way to ride the backroads, and old homeplaces, and read the historical markers too ! Folks don’t like to travel with us, because they say we stop and read too much. But we love it !!!
Texas is one our most favorite places to visit. I’ve been to alot of the places you spoke about, but I must recommend next time you are out that way to stop by Canyon, Texas and visit the Plains Museum there. It’s a sleeper, not to much advertisement about it but it is a SUPER place !! Also, of course Palo Duro Canyon which is close by. And also Adobe Walls. Look it up on the internet and read about it . Awsome places off the beaten path. Also I must suggest you read “The Last Buckaroo” , by Mackey Hedges. You MUST read this book....please !!! You will not be disappointed . Trust me. You’re the best !!
GC
Sounds like a book I want to read!!! And “The Cowboys” is one of my favorite movies. My 29 year old daughter happened to watch the last half with me a couple of months ago; she wasn’t planning to, it just kind of grabbed her attention when she came into the family room to ask me a question. I caught her wiping away that tear in her eye when the boys drove the cattle into town without Will Anderson. She tried to act like she was just scratching it. But I know better. :)
I will be reviewing Mountain Between Us at our Sept book club. Hope to introduce all to your amazing books. Can’t wait to read about the cowboy!
YES! Can’t wait to read it! I am a female fan of all things cowboy, so I look forward to this book!
I began reading this and soon felt the familiar race of my heart that happens when I read your books. Can we all send e-mails to the publishers to get them to move the date to tomorrow? If not, guess I’ll just have to settle for rereading one of your other books. Thanks for speaking to my heart!
My birthday is April 2nd and I can’t think of anything I would like better than one of your books! Thank you for your wonderful and inspirational stories. You are my favorite Author!
I have read all of your books now, and keep up with your blog posts too. We are very similar you and I Charles… We are Christian men, we are about the same age, we both have 3 kids, a wife named Kristi (my wife’s parents spelled it differently) and grew up as “cowboys”. I am born and raised in Colorado. My Dad’s father was a real life Sheriff in Elbert county, an eastern plains of Colorado county with cattle ranches and hay fields. My Dad’s family had a cattle ranch and I grew up visiting that ranch helping brand calves, stack hay bales, and pretend to be a cowboy. I loved spending time with my Grandpa. I don’t recall ever seeing him without a pair of boots on and his cowboy hat. He worn his gold star on his shirt with pride, and really only took it off when he went to bed. He would give us rides in his unmarked Sheriffs car and accelerate out of town at 80 miles an hour! He would put us on his horse with him and ride us around a pasture, and his stories were priceless! Love your work, keep it up! I would love to meet you someday, and get our families together, we would have much fun.
Cowboys, Country Music, and Charles Martin. What could be better?! Maybe when I tell my hubs that you’re a country music fan, he’ll finally read something other than Consumer Reports. Can’t wait until April!
All your books are so inspiring. There is always a lesson to be learned. My only regret is that you don’t write more books a year because I enjoy them so much! Keep up the good work, I know the stories come from your heart. God Bless!
I absolutely love all of your books! We wait so long for the next one, and then finish it a day or two! Knowing you are writing this book makes April seem a long ways away! Thank you for writing Christian fiction. You are an inspiration to me to maybe someday be able to do that too. And as a cowgirl, I’m extra excited about your next book!
Please make sure it is available on Kindle! I want to read it April 1’st on my device, please. I NEVER watch a movie or read a book twice, but have just finished the second read of all your books. Thank you and keep it up please.
Thanks for the reminder, via email; looking foward to reading “Thunder and Rain”, on my Nook!
I’m a 100% reader and supporter of your books. Thank you for keeping your books extreemly
enjoyable, readable and spiritually strong!
Have every one of your books..already read “Thunder and Rain” and loved it, naturally. In fact, think I got the first one when they came in at Barnes & Noble ! While “Thunder and Rain” was different from the others, [and I’m really not a cowboy person], from the first page to the last, I was hooked. Keep them coming faster, if you can.
I just got the book and just started reading it. I ‘m ready to love it. I have read all your other books and recommend them to everyone. I did not grow up on westerns (my mom hated guns and had no respect for cowboys), but my husband of 25 years remedied that. Our youngest son is named Chance, after John Wayne’s character - John T. Chance in Rio Bravo.
I have read all of his books, and can never decide which one is my favorite. Thunder & Rain is an awesome read. Loved loved loved it!! Please make a movie of it. Charles Martin has a way with words, and can paint the most beautiful scenes and memories our minds can imagine. As always he made me laugh & he made me cry. And of course when I read the last word, he had me wanting more.