When you find a great book
you are morally obligated to
tell your friends how to find it.
Way back when the man in the moon was just a little kid, I cowboyed at the Grand Canyon Ranch. It was my privilege to work cows just like John Wayne did it in the movies. The bitaali boss left me there all by myself most of the time. I still count that summer alone as one of my greatest blessings. |

| As I checked on different areas for ailing kine my abode kept changing. Sometimes I lived under a tree, other times inside a tent. Then there was my favorite nesting place. Nestled among the piñon and pines was a line shack with a tin roof. Rain barrels at the corner eaves caught all the water I had for drinking. There was so little water available that year that taking a bath was not even encouraged, much less required! The thing I liked best about that line shack was that one whole entire wall was a bookshelf, and one small wall was a magazine shelf. There were also stacks of reading material thick on the warped-log floor. I'd kick off my boots, pile up in front of the fireplace, breathe deeply of the piñon smoke, and slide off to visit strange new worlds. That's what I'm inviting you to do here; kick your boots off, and pile up in front of the fireplace. Breathe deep the campfire memories of your own youth. Then slide off to visit strange new worlds. Today there are two mad rushes of readers, one to read the latest and the most popular, and the other to read only the classics. In truth both rivers are exciting with pools of deep waters where the mind can relax, or think and grow. The classics are like scriptures; they have stood the test of time and we somehow know even as we read them that our grandchildren will some day peruse those same words. The books may wear out and fall apart just as the Dead Sea Scrolls deteriorated, yet the words of all our dead Homers still ring with life today. Jack London, Charles Dickens, Victor Hugo, Thomas Paine, Daniel Defoe; shall these masters ever die? The best sellers of today are like meteors streaking across the sky and most of them will soon be gone. Across the sky another meteor rises to the azimuth and commands attention from the fascinated world below. What a shame it is that so many of these meteors we ooh and awe over never leave a lasting trace. Most of them are simply copies of someone else's style -- no more creative than the continuing saga of the Beverly Hillbillies. Only the persistent masters of this craft can keep a string of readers eager to search out the best of their titles gone before. As each new reader stumbles upon a truly wonderful author and recognizes the mother lode s/he will track the backlist to discover all the other nuggets left lying in the dust. Some of these titles will become masterpieces for a short time, others for a longer span, but the real Homers of the human race are few and far between. There is a third course, a stream I follow that often dwindles. Occasionally it even runs underground. This stream carries the debris of great books which somehow never make it to masterpiece status, but neither should they be forgotten so soon. It is assumed by most readers that "classic" status is somehow achieved automatically. "If the book possesses 'classic' essence then somehow it will not disappear" is the way our faulty reasoning goes. Actually that classic status is never achieved automatically. The Works of Edgar Allan Poe completely disappeared from the American continent, for example. Only the French intellectuals saved Edgar's immense powers of ratiocination from obscurity until America was ready for him again. After his return his works stuck and are with us to this very day. But if it hadn't been for the French, where would he be? Knowing how easily great books can be lost, what I do, actively and persistently, is to sift through the long dead ashes for the great books with genius far above the molten mass of words created by our ballistic copycats of today, and remind my readers these books are still available, and well worth reading. "Big Caesar" by Charlton Ogburn Jr. is a prime example of a truly great book. It is the story of a high school boy with some major problems that most of us can relate to. It is probably meant for the YA market, but so good is it that even after 50 years I still relish it in its crumbling format. "Only Love" by Erich Segal is another good example of the titles I mean. This is a masterpiece that if it were issued new again would be avidly read. Instead it lingers now in dust. If it could be republished, perhaps it would not die this time. I'm sure the message in it would ring as joyously a century from now as it did when first published, if only something happens that it is read again. Alas and alack, it's gone now. |
If you investigate a move to Canada you will discover that you must
first support yourself there for three years. Then, and only then, are
you permitted to take a job away from a Canadian citizen. Why aren't
we poor Americans
offered the same kind of protection by our politicians?
Click HERE and Give Americans a Chance!
What kind of books
But then again, some of the mistaken favorites come from the books being lumped into the wrong category to begin with. Dick Francis books, for example, are lumped in with MYSTERIES. Actually they are novels, and adventure novels at that. Those who like the best books of Dick Francis would probably like books by Jack London as well. Anything written by Dick Francis is one I reward myself with when I have done an exceptionally good piece of work. ***
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