I get two questions every day as I ride the high country writing a novel (don’t ask about progress, please),
as I work hard (thank you, all the editors I work for–if I could, I would buy you all cayuses),
and as I look for awesome land to purchase out west for my own little rancheroo . . . → Read More: On the Fringe; or, Wearing the West
The quintessential taciturn cowboy, lanky yet graceful, was branded “Gary Cooper” by the 1929 film The Virginian. The son of a Montana rancher, the Coop could ride as soon as he could walk. Born Frank James Cooper, he changed his name per a casting director’s advice to “Gary,” which she thought would sound more rugged, like . . . → Read More: Trying Hard to Sound like Gary Cooper; or, How to Talk Super-Dooper
I’m revising a novel at a sprint now, so some days will be bloggier than others! Not to worry–my famed western how-tos on achieving happiness through following the filmsteps of silver-screen western hero Gary Cooper’s Virginian will return tomorrow. Just keep practicing those squints and stares and epic pauses, y’hear?
As author Paul Green commented, when . . . → Read More: Novel High Noon Approaching; or, Gary Cooper as Seen Through the Eyes of…
What would the Virginian do?
That’s a worthy question, whether you’re seeking direction in love, life, business, or baking mac and cheese.
As I’ve said before, the Virginian’s a proven success story, whether in Owen Wister’s hundred-year-old best-seller or Gary Cooper’s first talkie (1929). The role made the Coop a star, and cemented the popular view of the . . . → Read More: Trying Hard to Look like Gary Cooper; or, How to Act Super-Dooper
Cecil B. DeMille once said that the Virginian was the ideal American–”short on speech and long on action.”
Owen Wister’s 1902 fictional cowboy hero and DeMille’s 1929 Coop-starring western was a classic early twentieth-century success story. He got the girl, killed the bad man, made the West safe for suburban houses, and became master of his own . . . → Read More: Trying Hard to Look like Gary Cooper; or, The Virginian and the Average Joe
The epically awesome goals of a Silver-Screen Western hero can be distilled down to five emulation-worthy goals, which can be mixed and matched for dramatic effect.
win a love interest
*(btw, title from George Jetson of The Jetsons, not John Wayne)
Of these, . . . → Read More: A Man’s Gotta Do What a Man’s Gotta Do * ; or A Handy Guide to Life’s Goals
Chapter 8 in Reach for the Skies: The Modern Buckaroo’s Guide to Happiness will explore the eighth principle of the silver-screen western hero code:
DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO.
The important parts of this to consider is that “do” is a verb (and an active one at that), and “need” is different than . . . → Read More: Will Do; or, the Eighth Principle of the Silver-Screen Western Hero Code
The New York Times isn’t above reaching for hyperbolic language like a grocery store rag. I couldn’t help discovering–OK everything even remotely related to the West gets shot to my e-mail like a .44 caliber bullet so I can read these things greedily as if they were pulp novels, of which I have over three hundred . . . → Read More: High Noon; or, Cramer Stewart CNBC Cowboy Stamp Showdown
Medical tools from the Civil War
There is something to be said for a high-deductible health care plan: This year, thanks to a likely financial crunch in my chosen field, I will certainly be reviewing my health expenditures carefully. No more mammograms willy-nilly–squishing boobs for fun has gone the way of tinkering with stocks. No longer will I drop . . . → Read More: A Happy Healthy New Year; or, Cowboy Diplomacy in the Doctor’s Office
A pair of one hundred-year-old blue jeans, found in an abandoned gold mine in California? $36,099. The chance to touch or even *gulp* wear these worn Levis? Priceless.
But such is the glamour of honest toil. Denim designers must have been salivating at the sight of the old, ripped, stained, and soiled pants, because while no one . . . → Read More: Old Jeans Are a Gold Mine; or Cowboy Fact #25