Journal Notes

I’m off to Los Angeles today. I’ll get to see my brother and make some inroads in getting him some teeth at long last. My meeting with Walter Hill will now be on Monday. I’m very excited. Even if nothing ultimately happens. What a thrill to meet such a distinguished director and discuss Thunder Over the Prairie. I’m going armed with one of the following 8 reviews: By W. Hylinski (California) -See all my reviews: “I don’t get a lot of time to read with 2 little boys in the house, and most books take me weeks to read. This book though had me hooked right from the beginning and I found myself making time to read it. I loved the attention given to the backgrounds of everyone in the book, it was filled with facts that are often unknown by most or that are given little attention. The writing was top notch and you could just see all the hard the work that went into putting it together. Chris and Howard have once again brought to the world a piece of art in literature. I’m happy to send out a few promotional copies of the book. Just drop me a line and let me know you’d like one and I’ll get it out to you.

All efforts to view the Elizabeth Custer archives in private hands in Montana have failed. The owner will not allow me access to the material. I don’t blame him for being a suspicious given the fact that the Federal government overtook his property and seized historical items he acquired himself. The claim was that the material belonged to the national museum in Washington. It reminds me of the final scene of the first Indian Jones movie. I’m not giving up however. I travel to LA this week in part for work, but mostly to see my brother. It breaks my heart. But it should, I guess. I struggle everyday with trying to forgive the two women responsible for the broken man I’ll see again Thursday. Over and over again I recall Ephesians 4:32 “Be gentle with one another, sensitive. Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ Forgave you.” And Matthew 18: 21-22. “Master, how many times do I forgive a brother or sister who hurts me? Seven? Jesus replied, ?Seven! Hardly. Try seventy times seven.’ I love that last verse because it reminds me Jesus knew that forgiveness, for more of us, is a process that often has to be repeated, not a one-time decision that lasts a lifetime. And so again today, I’ll pray that forgiveness seeps into my soul. I’ll have to repeat the scene again when I see Rick. It just isn’t getting into my heart. I want to insists that my prayers for this situation get answered with the favorable resolution I have requested. But God says, Chris I have a bigger plan than you envisioned for this. Trust me. I’m lousy at trust too.

Yesterday was a high point in my life with regards to my work. I spoke with Emmy winning screenwriter Walter Hill about Thunder Over the Prairie and he was very complimentary. I’ve always been a big fan of Hill’s work. In fact I have a movie poster of The Long Riders hanging in my home. He was gracious and kind and I was honored that he read the book. Howard and I will be meeting with him next week in L.A.. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity and if nothing comes of it I am thrilled that it got this far. The research into the personal life of Elizabeth Custer continues. I have a specific idea about how I want to approach the story, but need a few of her letters on the subject to bring it about. I believe that the rumors about his infidelity were fueled by fellow officer Frederick Benteen. He was Custer’s nemesis. I’ll keep digging. In the meantime, press packets for the children’s book Cowboy True’s Christmas Adventure need to be created. The book will officially be launched in December, but all the press material has to be mailed by the first of August. It’s a busy time and I’m glad for that, but I miss my brother. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him or see his suffering in my mind’s eye. If he were gone from this world perhaps I wouldn’t grieve so. I wrestle with the part of me that knows how mighty and just God is with wanting to see the wicked who did this to my brother get theirs now. I can’t sleep. Rick is gone, but he’s here. At night there is nothing to occupy my mind, no one to reach out to. I am consumed with the image of his slow demise. There is nothing and no one to drown out the hurt. There is only the dream that nothing will go right for the mother and daughter who did this until they admit what they’ve done and how they’ve lied. Dreams seldom come true however.

My desk and the floor around my desk is covered with research papers and books about Elizabeth Custer. She was a fascinating woman. From almost the moment she met George to the time she passed away at 91 she sang his praises. They were wed in 1864 and he was killed 12 years later. She never remarried and she died in 1933. She was hopelessly devoted to George. I want to do more research on Libbie and the General, but I’ll have to go to Monroe, Michigan where she was born to get it done. I’ve just returned from a long trip and am not anxious to get on another plane. Flying has turned into an amazingly arduous process, especially boarding the plane, which has now become this tedious Bataan death march with American Tourister overnight bags. The last trip I took I was stuck behind one guy who took forever to get situated. He clogged the aisle like a piece of human cholesterol. He folded his sport jacket like he was in the color guard at Arlington National Cemetery. I’m a nervous flyer I guess. I’m suspicious of those masks that drop down in the event of decompression. The flimsy apparatus looks like a Parkay margarine cup on the end of an enema bag. The airlines always have these bizarre instructions to start the flow of oxygen. “Tug down lightly on the cord.” Yeah, you know when I’m shoulder-rolling at seven hundred miles per hour, lightly just isn’t in my vocabulary. In comparison to the mode of transportation Elizabeth Custer used to get to the military posts where George was located, flying is still the easiest and fastest way to get from one point to another. With that in mind, I’m off to book another flight.

It’s a good thing my life as a writer isn’t a reality show. Nothing could be more boring. I spend a great deal of my day just looking for my reading glasses. When I find them I’m going to go back to researching the life of Elizabeth Custer for the new book I?m writing. I’ll have to make a trip to Monroe, Michigan to get all the information I need. That’s where Mrs. Custer was born. Guess I’ll go there after I get back from San Antonio and the Western Writers History Association conference. I’ve spent some time today mailing off review copies of Thunder Over the Prairie and praying the movie goes through with Hallmark. I’d be so thrilled if that happened! I imagine myself in the audience when the theatre goes dark and the film starts. Of course first there will be the dancing candy ad that theatres always run before the movie begins. That ad was always a little disturbing to me. If the candy can dance, and for that matter, play musical instruments, why should I get up, go to the snack bar, and buy the candy? Why can’t it just walk down the aisle and meet me at my seat? And why does a Coke cost more than the ticket? The Cokes the theatres serve are so big you could swim in them. Halfway through the movie I’m so bloated I have to step outside for twenty minutes of dialysis, which means I have to come back the next day and see the movie again to find out the part I missed. Perhaps I’ve shared too much. If I could find my glasses I’d reread what I’ve written and delete the part about being bloated. But I don’t know where the glasses are! Maybe they’re with the television remote. That’s been missing since Monday.

According to the folks at Hallmark Films “we may be able to get this one (Thunder Over the Prairie) set up this fall!!!” I certainly hope that’s the case. People don’t always mean what they say. What a blessing it would be though. Howard and I were guests this morning on a radio program out of Sacramento called Insight and spoke quite extensively about the four lawmen in the new book. I’ve got another signing coming up this weekend and will be talking to book buyers about the title then too. I’m doing everything I can think of to keep the momentum going for this tome. I really like the book, but the window of time needed to get everyone else to like it is very short. Soon, very soon, it will be old news. It’s moments like these that make me wish I had gone into some other line of work. Maybe I should have been a lawyer. Not a dishonest, grotesquely rapacious pimp like the one who let my brother go down, but a good lawyer motivated by compassion and concern. I didn’t always have such low opinions of lawyers. The word “lawyer” used to conjure up images of an upstanding, tireless advocate for the little guy. An Atticus Finch or Clarence Darrow, who was passionately dedicated to truth and justice. I think the law has been bastardized by a band of hucksters (like the dishonest, grotesquely rapacious pimp and his staff who let my brother go down) who have made it so cryptic, so utterly puzzling and arcane that Moses and Judge Judy working around the clock for twenty years could not understand it. The average person walking into a courtroom (like my parents and I) have long abandoned any expectation of justice. Because the American legal system has been turned into nothing more than a baroque multitiered Vulcan chess game where the rules have become too intricate for the average citizen to play and where the loser is no longer the guilty party but rather the least clever of the two. Okay, maybe I don’t want to be a lawyer and it’s too late to change careers now anyway. So, it’s back to writing and the struggles inherit with that. By the way, did I mention Thunder Over the Prairie is in book stores everywhere?

Nellie Bly was an American journalist, author, industrialist, and charity worker. She is most famous for an undercover expose in which she faked insanity to study a mental institution from within. Lucy Stone was a prominent American abolitionist, suffragist, and reporter for the newspaper The Liberator. Both women are subjects in the new book I’m working on entitled Front Page: Women Journalist of the Old West. Both women have admirable qualities, but I respect Nellie more than Lucy. She never made her gender an issue. She did what she knew she could do based on her skill and talent alone. She didn’t hide behind a cause. She acted and in so doing opened the door for many investigative journalists to follow. I think we trivialize women’s issues in this country by fixating on the insignificant and ignoring the consequential. With all the serious inequities heaped on womanhood: the fact that we don’t get paid equally; the fact that we’re often brutalized by incomplete males. What do we focus on? The freak show, giving women sports caster’s access to football locker rooms, young girls being allowed to join the Boy Scouts. I’m aware that I have benefited greatly from the women who made sure I had a right to vote and could attend school to become a doctor or a minister, etc. and I’m grateful. But things have changed since Nellie and Lucy broke onto the scene. Women don’t just want their rights anymore, they want more. As a proponent of father’s rights I have seen the way women have brutalized men. I have seen women in the so-called justice system rape men and terrorize them in ways they never would a female. Because I’ve witnessed such blatant acts personally I have a general distrust of women. I don’t think I’d feel that way if I knew more women like Nellie Bly. From the research I’ve done for this new book I believe women like her would have exposed injustice regardless of gender. I wish I’d known Nellie. I could have introduced her to my brother. Maybe she could have saved him from the succubus he married. It’s interesting how all stories seem to lead back to the same hurt.

Some days it feels like I’ve got just one hopeful thing going on. Today it’s Thunder Over the Prairie. I’ve included a few reviews from the book on Amazon.com as a reminder to myself of how grateful I am to have had a chance to write about some of my heroes. I’m pleased people like the book and would like to ask other readers if they feel favorable towards the material if they would post their comments on Amazon. I’m working on a new book now about women journalists of the Old West. I’ll be adding some interesting stories on the site in the days ahead. And now, on with the reviews…. This author is always a pleasure to read!, June 10, 2009 Cynthia Martin: Once again, history is made fun and easy to read. The story grips you from the very first page. The author always seems to strive to bring you that little know fact you might not have known. Familiar historical names are brought to life in the pages of Chris Enss’ book. An incredible true story that reads like a classic Western movie, May 28, 2009 Michael L. Thomas “radio talk show host” Any fan of the Western genre, fact or fiction, will love this book. An easy read full of everything a great Hollywood western would contain…a spoiled brat rich villain…four young lawmen looking to right a wrong…a beautiful victim…but this is all true. Chris Enss and Howard Kazanjian have managed to transport readers back to one of the most important years and sites in the history of the old West…Dodge City, 1878. Absolutely awesome, May 24, 2009 Denise Fink I could not put the book down. I am involved in a Bible Study and I actually neglected to complete my Bible Study to finish the book, because of the way the author draws you in and I just felt the emotions of the characters. From the death of Dora to the posse hunt for the killer, it kept me on my toes. I also love the fact that the book told about each of the characters lives. So wonderful to read. Can’t wait for more

Many books get bad reviews. I’ve had more than my share of bad reviews and although I do not think there is any up side to reading them I wouldn’t deny a critics right to express his opinion. Over the last few years however it seems that reviewers have gone beyond critiquing the work and ventured into personal attacks. One reviewer suggested I should “consider a career change and become a mortician.” One said “she should stick to comedy writing.” Author Brendan Behan once wrote, “Critics are like eunuchs in a harem; they know how it’s done, they’ve seen it done every day, but they’re unable to do it themselves.” All that being said, I don’t mind the good reviews. I eagerly lap up a glowing response. Lord Byron told his editor to “send him no more reviews of any kind.” “I will read no more of evil or good in that line.” I’d like to be able to do that, but I know I can’t. I take praise like a greedy boy takes an apple and I’ll keep coming back for more. Over the last few days I’ve been smacked around quite a bit verbally by people who haven’t even read Thunder Over the Prairie. The shots have been hurtful, inaccurate, and unfair. But if I dismiss the bad mannered, egotistical ramblings of the self-proclaimed Old West historians who believe great legendary men like Wyatt Earp need the likes of them to dismiss actual newspaper accounts of his actions – I’d have to throw out the nice comments the work has received from people who enjoyed the read and I’m not going to that.

It’s good to be home again, but what a time I had on the book tour. I met some wonderful people in every town I visited. Larry Bowen at Readers Corner Book Store in Rolla, Missouri, Steve Meyer in Richmond, Sue Lightfoot in Carrollton, and Mary Kay Speaks at Barnes and Noble in Independence were gracious and fun to work with. I laughed more at Larry’s store than at any other signing I’ve ever done. Bowen and his staff like authors and are very supportive. Larry’s Bowen book store is to Missouri what Larry McMurtry’s book store is to Texas. I got to see my niece while I was in Rolla too. Nickol is stunning and kind. More grownup than any 22 year old has the right to be and full of promise. I’m proud of the person she has become. I knew I loved her, but I wasn’t prepared for just how deep that emotion would go. The launch in Dodge City turned out very well. Jim Sherer and Cathy Reeves went out of their way to make sure the celebrations were classy and inviting. The events were well attended and I’ll never forget it as long as I live. The highlight of my time in Dodge was when I got to hold Bill Tilghman and Bat Masterson’s gun. Tilghman is my hero and I’m glad Brent gave me the chance to handle the firearm. His gun was light and I couldn’t help imagine how many bad guys he brought down with it. What a moment. If only Val Kilmer had been there it would have been perfect!