What books are in your library?

Are the books in my own personal library really a reflection of the person I was and who I became?

NOT LONG AGO, my friend and writing partner Stephen Woodfin wrote a blog that asked a simple question.

What does our personal library say about us?

I had never thought about it.

I guess it was time I did.

All I knew was that I had shelves stacked and packed with books.

But which books had a chosen to read through the years?

Why did I want to read them?

Were they really a reflection of the person I was and who I became?

I didn’t think so.

I was wrong.

Way back among a collection of dusty books, I found the stable of novels that started me writing in the first place.

They were all about horses.

As a youngster, I had fallen in love with Black Beauty.

Even in high school, I was reading about horses:

The Black Stallion

The Black Stallion Returns.

Son of Black Stallion.

And My Friend Flicka.


I had begun to write a novel about a horse named Rebel, a wild horse, a renegade, the fastest horse there ever was

Somewhere after two hundred pages, I ran out of steam.

I discovered girls.

I forgot about horses.

I have no idea whatever happened to the manuscript, hand-written in three spiral-bound notebooks.

With any luck, God in his infinite mercy destroyed every page of it.

Then my attention turned to hard-boiled detective stories, which proudly occupy my bookshelves, those written by:

Dashiell Hammett.

Raymond Chandler

And Mickey Spillane.

Later I would graduate to mystery thrillers, and my bookshelves were crammed with titles penned by:

John D. MacDonald.

Alistair Maclean.

Robert Parker.

And James Lee Burke.

Where would I be without the sardonic, sarcastic, bitter wit of Sam Spade and Marlowe, Mike Hammer and Travis McGee, Spenser and Dave Robicheaux as they fought the bad guys and their own personal demons?

Why did I read them so voraciously?

I loved the no-nonsense but lyrical quality of great writing.

Great stories.

Great style.

Besides, I was at work on my own mystery thrillers, including:

Secrets of the Dead.

Conspiracy of Lies.

Night Side of Dark.

Place of Skulls.

Lonely Night to Die.


I grew up on a farm.

Had pigs.

Had cows.

Had a couple of horses.


In fact, in a long-ago lifetime, I wanted to be a cowboy.

I just wasn’t tough enough.

But I found the books in my library that led me in the right direction, novels written by Jack Schaefer, Zane Gray, Luke Short, and Elmer Kelton.

The books had always been labeled as Westerns.

In my eyes, they were literature, as good as it gets.

It has suddenly dawned on me, after all these years, that I never simply sat down and read for enjoyment.

I thought I did.

I didn’t.

Browsing through the books in my library has taught me one important lesson.

Then, as now, I read because I’m trying to learn how to write.

Please click HERE to find Lonely Night to Die on Amazon.

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