“Ronin hated crowds and generally didn’t go to town if he could avoid it. If nature abhors a vacuum, he recalled Ralph Waldo Emerson having said once, he hated whatever the opposite of a vacuum was. People-filled rooms, busy stages and train stations all made him uncomfortable. It was a control thing. He wasn’t about to let life take him anywhere again, as his father’s anywhere had turned out to be so damn painful. And his own experience in the church, or later riding with the Pinkertons, not much better.
In the end, that’s what had ended his ministry as a Protestant clergyman on the frontier…The constant tug of responsibility. The lack of options. The unending sack full of people hoping to get their petulant needs met. And the thought that a Great Spirit of some kind, not always loving, never loquacious, was going to take him somewhere, somewhere maybe that he didn’t want to go? Like the day his dad died? Or any number of deaths he had suffered through or caused since? Well, that just made his stomach turn.”
Here’s another sample, from chapter 39 on its way to the editor.
I don’t know that we have discussed this, but I hope you do describe the awful beauty of Nevada in these pages.
REALLY looking forward to reading this. May it be the first of many Gregg Townsley novels.
I really love the area described in this book: Carson City, Virginia City, Reno, having lived there almost ten years. If you’re at all familiar with the Sierra Mountains or the areas mentioned, I think you’ll enjoy it! And look for mention of some of my favorite places: Bower’s Mansion in Washoe Valley, the Bucket of Blood Saloon, St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Carson City. And the Stewart Indian School (closed in 1980 land, now used by the Washoe tribe and the State of Nevada) was just a mile or so from my house!