Like most who write, I especially rejoice in reading a good book. For within the confines of those crisp white pages, I allow my mind to drift to blowing winds through knee high grasses, or hear a strange bird caw in fear or warning. And every now and then I read to get a sense of what a writer thinks, believes, or simply wants to convey to me in whatever tone and syntax he or she chooses to use.
A few years ago, a friend released a short book of stories and poems about her life growing up in the Sandhills of north central Nebraska. Having lived in the western United States for a few years, I had a certain appreciation for the work and dedication of a group of Americans whose lifestyles have changed little over the decades.
Western styled shirts, starched and pressed Wranglers are the trademark of a true westerner. Grit and determination walk with them, and their connection to the earth is unlike most have experienced. So, when Loranda Buoy told me that she was going to publish her small tale of growing up there, I was quick to purchase and read it.
Her language was rustic and unrefined, much like the truck she drives and the land she works. I could sense in those words the love for her husband, passion for the ranch she manages since his passing, and the desire to bring something wonderful and nice to those who may not ever know what it is like to live in the grasslands of America.
I invite you to check out her short book--hey, it's only eighty pages or so--and tell me your thoughts about it. Her book Thanks For Talkin' To Me: Stories and Poems of Living, Loving, and Laughing in the Nebraska Sandhills. My opinion is you'll enjoy it, and can order it by clicking here. :)
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