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“Crisply vivid, witty, and at once far-seeing and a-whisper with intimacies…a rare and splendid pleasure”- C.M. Mayo, Meteor

“…a wondrous collection that reminds us of states of being so fundamental they can only be described as holy.” – Juliet Patterson, Threnody


    

Shelley’s Blog

Ok, so I know they are mostly like gazelles with muscle.  And they can dribble the ball like nobody's business and hit those three-pointers.  Today's women basketball players. In my day you were innovative if you had a jump shot.  Hook shots were still lethal.  And passing was prized over dribbling, maybe because none of us was a Globe-Trotter. But one of my special memories is being taken by Gene Haliburton, who worked at Vega schools and was a huge basketball fan, to a Wayland Flying Queen ballgame.  Who remembers...

They both perished at the hands of the U.S. Calvary who finally discovered their last refuge in the vast Palo Duro Canyon.  For years the historic marker in the canyon told the story from the U.S. government perspective: how many savages surprised, how many captured or killed, the destroying of over 1000 Indian horses. I can hear the horses screaming in the early mornings.  Sound traveling through memory. The Comanches preferred the wide canyons like the Palo Duro and perhaps this was their undoing.  The Kiowa preferred deep canyons where...

Recently I received a request from my newly hired publicist for a "head shot."  It sounded simple enough. I clicked on a couple of photos used by the press previously for my book and off they went. "Can't use. Low resolution.  If you can't fix it, send something else."  And yet the press, two newspapers, and others had reproduced the shot without fuzziness. Maybe it was just my glasses. I wrote back to my good friend, David, who made the original shot. "Take out the turkey neck while you are at...