Westerns

Reading the newspaper, trying to get things done, being intimidated by the looming Writer's Market and all it holds for me. Just a few of the things on my mind today. I found a contest in Writer's Market for Western short stories. I'm going to enter it, and my dad will probably be enthusiastic about it because he loves to watch Westerns on TV.

To tell you the truth, I make fun of him for it. Don't get me wrong, I love a great Western once in a blue moon, but my dad can watch them for hours. He can lip sinc every John Wayne movie, and he prides himself in being able to say a line before the characters say it themselves.

My only hope is to wait until he falls into a deep sleep, clutching the remote control to his chest. Sometimes I can steal the remote; other times I'm not so lucky.

Some of the outdated Westerns are corny. The last one he watched was about some bandits terrorizing a quiet little nun. John Wayne comes to the rescue, wounded in the shoulder by the lead bandit. The nun thanked him in a sweet, quiet voice, and he rode off into the sunset with a bandage over his glory wound.

You may be asking why I would be writing in a genre that I'm currently making fun of. I only think some Westerns are corny, and, frankly, I just can't watch them for hours on end. But I am a Western girl, I have horses, and I live in the wilderness among sagebrush, farmland, and an annoying screech owl that keeps me awake at night. So I guess that qualifies me to write a Western short story, just don't tell my dad. (I really do make fun of him a lot.)