Author Archives: wes

At SXSW this week I met up with an old college friend and his adorable new hipster girlfriend. We’d been wandering around downtown Austin all night and were exhausted. Then we found ourselves at one of those cool new bars … Continue reading →

man, i’m proud of east texas. the tagline for this new tv show: “please kill responsibly”

Whenever I try to use my words to change the world, the whole thing usually blows up in my face. Or worse, it just fizzles out, and I’m left holding the dud and mumbling some b.s. about best intentions. Reminds … Continue reading →

When I’m writing a story, my only objective is to seek the truth, uncover it, and retell it as best I can. If I throw a few grenades along the way, so be it. I don’t worry much about the … Continue reading →

“Hell, I could take you through it step by step, explain why your story stinks, but I won’t insult your intelligence. Well all right, first of all: This is a wrestling picture; the audience wants to see action, drama, wrestling, … Continue reading →

Another passage that I cut from the manuscript. The guy who hopped out of the car was fortyish and not wearing a shirt. In fact, he was not wearing much of anything — only shorts, sandals, and wrap-around sunglasses. A … Continue reading →

For your reading pleasure, a passage that wasn’t good enough for my book. (I have been cutting mercilessly, especially the parts that are about me more than they’re about the river). – Wes I had deluded myself into thinking that … Continue reading →

This cemetery is on a dirt road at the county line, not far from my home. I’ve been going there for years. Don’t ask me why. Earlier this afternoon, I came across the marker for a girl (bottom photo) who … Continue reading →

1. Longueur — a tedious passage in a book or other work 2. Bathos — an effect of anticlimax created by an unintentional lapse in mood from the sublime to the trivial or ridiculous I’ve been self-editing my manuscript before … Continue reading →

I’m not sure I want to recommend this movie, riddled as I am with liberal guilt. A lot of my own stories have toed the line between the celebration of white trash culture and the exploitation of it. But there’s … Continue reading →

It’s a shame that our collective memory of Deliverance has been distilled into a single punch line. You know, that hillbilly rape scene. A couple of rednecks sodomize this poor slob whose biggest mistake had been to climb into a … Continue reading →

Sometimes, in the  pursuit of a story, a writer becomes as creepy and obsessed as a stalker. During research for my latest project, I think I might have crossed into that dark side. No, I’m pretty sure I did. I … Continue reading →

Who will be the heirs of Larry McMurtry and John Graves? That’s the question in one of today’s DMN editorials (h/t Elliott). My hunch? Nobody. Lone Star pride still runs high, but it’s more of an abstract, sentimental feeling that … Continue reading →

A funny thing happened during the local football game last night. Not so much funny haha, though. Picture bright stadium lights under a crescent moon. Bleachers decked in hometown red and blue. The green expanse of the gridiron. Electricity in … Continue reading →

The open road = freedom. Heading west in Texas, the interstate freeway undulates through cedar-studded hills that eventually flatline into high desert. You can see for miles. You suddenly get what people mean about wide-open spaces, because you feel free … Continue reading →

I recently returned from a road trip through West Texas. Business, not pleasure — my first big magazine assignment. The idea was to hang out with four rural veterinarians in four days, to glean anecdotes for an article about, well, … Continue reading →

So I’m blogging now. Do people still do that? Write narcissistic, unedited scraps of essay and memoir, baring their naked selves before the anonymous travelers of the ’Net? I’m blogging so I can take an occasional break from the book … Continue reading →

The gods of social networking say I should reconnect with Greg Thompson. It has been months since anyone has written to him. Facebook wants to give him a nudge, a word or two to draw him back into the fold. … Continue reading →

I paddled the Neches the other afternoon to compare it to my own favorite river, the Sabine. Read the story in the July edition of County Line Magazine.