... People Are Always Turning Out To

Only A Rank Degenerate Would Drive 1,500 Miles Across Texas Without Eating A Chicken Fried Steak.

You Expect Far Too Much Of A First Sentence. Think Of It As Analagous To A Good Country Breakfast: What We Want Is Something Simple, But Nourishing To The Imagination. Hold The Philosophy, Hold The Adjectives, Just Give Us A Plain Subject And Verb And Perhaps A Wholesome, Nonfattening Adverb Or Two.

Maybe You Can Make Art Out Of Unredeemed Pain, But Only If You're A Genius -- Dostoyevsky Perhaps.

The Tradition I Was Born Into Was Essentially Nomadic, A Herdsmen Tradition, Following Animals Across The Earth. The Bookshops Are A Form Of Ranching; Instead Of Herding Cattle, I Herd Books. Writing Is A Form Of Herding, Too; I Herd Words Into Little Paragraph-like Clusters.

Death And Worse Happened On The Plains.