Zane Sterling

Glad ya' made it! I'll grab us a cup of coffee and we'll sit down and talk a spell. I hope ya' take your coffee black, cause I ain't got nothin' to doctor it up with. Be careful with that cup it's a mite hot. That mesquite fire has a tendency to heat that pot to a cherry-red like a brandin' iron.

How did I come to be here, you ask? Well it's sort of a long story, but I'll try to part the hair and get right to the hide of it. I was born and raised in Scurry County Texas on a farm and ranch owned by my family for three generations. Now Scurry County is in what us Texans refer to as "Mesquite Country". It is a land sometimes blinded by the flying dust of a sandstorm and frequently short on rainfall but to all of us who were hard-headed(I prefer that to certain other adjectives) enough to adjust to such things there is no finer country on God's green earth. Though the weather is rather unpredictable the people are not, they stand tall and proud. If ya' don't want to know what they think, for heavens-sake don't ask, they have a tendency to shoot as straight as a .50 caliber Sharps.

Now, I always had a love for the old west and I suppose like a few of my ancestors before me, I had a hankerin' to see what was over the next rise. After my schoolin' years I saddled my best horse and loaded my saddlebags with my earthly belongings and began my wanderin' years.

 I was drawn away from cattle and cotton by the bright lights and glamour of the city. Moving to Reno, Nevada, I traded my horse for a fancy three-piece suit and became a Pit-Boss in one of them glitzy casinos. That trail led me to the Gulf Coast of Mississippi and back again. Now, somewhere along the way, all of the things that had previously drawn me in that direction left me empty and a little on the hollow side. So, after some contemplating, I traded that fancy store-bought suit back for my horse. She was none the worse for wear, other than being a little barn-sour. I remedied that situation by buying me a little piece of land at the base of the Sierra Nevadas outside a one-horse town called Chilcoot, California.

I soon began shoeing horses and starting colts with a reknowned trainer by the name of Bob Erickson. Soon after I began writing and performing Cowboy Poetry. I performed my poetry across the western states and had numerous newspaper articles written about me and my poetry from California to Texas. Who would've ever thought an ol' country boy from Snyder, Texas would share the stage with one of the greatest Cowboy Poets in the world, Waddie Mitchell. But that is exactly what happened in Vinton California at the longest continious running "Cowboy Poetry Gathering" in the state. I smile every time I think of it still.

Now, as I mentioned earlier, I always loved the old west and it's glorious history. From the time I could hold a book, without teething on it, I began to read. I suppose over the years, I have read nearly every western novel written in the last half-century. So I reckon it was a natural progression of things that caused me to pick up a pen and paper and begin writing western novels. With the completion of "Debt of Vengeance" I have turned my attention to breathing life into "Texas Callin'" the first book in the "Brothers of Bull Creek" series.

I suppose a fellar can't always expect things to work out the way he planned and hoped for. But along life's journey, I have been blessed with the two greatest sons the good Lord ever sent down to this earth. I thank God for them everyday. Yes indeed, it is safe to say, the trail has been a twisted one. But I hope it is a trail that is far from over.

I hate to see ya' go, but I reckon I need to go feed my horse anyway. I've noticed she doesn't have as much patience with me as she use to. I suppose that's how it is with age.

It sure has been a pleasure talkin' to ya'. And the next time your ridin' this way make sure ya' drop by and we'll have us another chat. Until then keep your cinch tight and your seat in the saddle. And remember, "Life's to short to fork a bad horse."