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Stories written by Bruce Patterson

Crying Cowboys

Crying Cowboys

The trouble with the silently suffering kinds of Western lore is that, if ever they do start complaining, they sound kind of silly. A lack of practice, you know? Like…

The Writing Side of Me

Self-expression is everywhere in nature. Even in the wastelands you hear the sounds of life, and everything from the rocks on up tells stories. We are the creatures of our…

Cloud Busters

Sometime after I’d learned to tie my shoes, I got captivated by clouds. I saw flat-bottomed puffs of clouds speeding overhead like the dapples on a giant leaping winged horse.…

Brennan Palisades

As you cross the line into County Tipperary, you see a sign. “You’ve come a long way,” it says. “T’is a far cry from Ireland,” the lad Brennan boasts to…

Pre-Traumatic Stress Syndrome

How’s this for the latest newfangled disease: Pre-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. What with what looks like the beginnings of global ecological collapse—the beginning of the end of the world as we…

Disoriented

Makes sense I’d get “lost” in the juniper forest sprawled across the southeast corner of what geologists call the Lava Plains and everybody else the Bottomlands. Also, at least if…

The Last Newspaper?

The Last Newspaper?

While I rarely practice it, I know what real news journalism looks like. It’s the who, what, where, when and why of an event—presumably one that’s important or at least…

The Writer’s Racket

I’ve been wondering what I’m gonna do once the AVA’s most esteemed Publisher and Editor and his Major Contributor ride off into the dusty sunset, the one humming to himself…

I-SIS, I-RAQ, I-RAN

I-SIS, I-RAQ, I-RAN

Nobody goes to war because they’re uninformed. I sure didn’t. Before I volunteered I’d done my homework and I knew more about “South Vietnam” and “North Vietnam” than nearly all…

Shotgun Shacks

Shotgun Shacks

My mom (1924-1983) and dad (1921-2001) grew up in the same Chicago slums their parents had landed in and children were born in. Their wooden cribs were known as “shotgun…

My Generation

Generally speaking, I’ve never much liked the affluent white boys of my generation. Didn’t much like them when they were young, and I like them a whole lot less now…

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