Terrell L Bowers - Western Writer

Cover for just published novel - 2008 - Black Horse Westerns.

I know very little about this writer except that he was born Laporte, Indiana in 1945.

What I do know is that he has had books published with Avalon, Leisure as well as Robert Hale's Black Horse Westerns.

Looking around the net it appears that there is no information about him apart from an impressive bibliography.

Nor has anyone appeared to write about Terrell L. Bowers and, maybe, I'm not the best qualified to do so - but I'll give it a go.

I first came across Terrell L. Bowers when I borrowed 'The Banshee Raiders' (Hale 1984) from the local library and was impressed by his writing style - it was easy on the eye and the mind.

When I came across a copy of 'THE PETTICOAT WAR' (1985 - Robert Hale) and read the blurb and came to the part that said: "But he couldn't turn his back on a town full of defenceless women and children. His one chance to turn his Petticoat Army into an able bodied fighting force' my immediate reaction was - The Magnificent Seven Ride.

Except that this book is not a reworking of the themes from that film but a well structured story the deals with good and evil.

Marc Kannon is a man on the run after killing a Mormon in self-defence. On his trail is U.S. Marshall Nate Child's, also a Mormon, who never gives up until he has caught his man. Added to the mix is that Kannon fought for the Union and the town of Rio Diablo is full of Confederate die hards. Sounds all straightforward - but Terrell L. Bowers builds his book with interesting characters like the bandit leader Paco Basada and Marc's brother Steve who is a member of Basada's gang of outlaws. Steve and Marc are chalk and cheese - but they do care about each other.

Where Terrell L. Bowers strength lies is in turning ,what should be a traditional western, into something else. What appears to be predictable doesn't happen or if it does then it does in a way that you didn't forsee.

In 'DELRYAN'S DRAW' (1986 - Robert Hale) gambler Delryan wins an Indian, mute slave girl who turns out to be white. As he doesn't want her he gives the girl, Capricho, her freedom but she doesn't want it

Into the mix is Faro Link, Capricho's former owner and an army scout, Short Change, who thinks that the girl can lead the army to capture Jutemayo a renegade Indian.

Delryan is caught in the middle and there are those who want him dead. The pace just doesn't let up and the reader (well, this reader) wanted Delryan to survive.

Terrell L. Bowers, in my opinion, has gone from strength to strength with books like 'YANCY'S LUCK' (2002 - Black Horse Westerns) where a simple job for Yancy Nodean's mission to clean up Pine Junction is anything but that easy.

Terrell L. Bowers is one of those writers who should be better known - and I can only guess at his influences - but he could stand with them and some of his better known modern contempories.

The Yellow Teddy Bears - 1963

Out on DVD.

No, this is NOT a porn movie despite the picture on the cover- so I'm not going to give you the blurb from the back of the box.

In the wake of the kitchen sink dramas of the sixties came this little number and it was just a second feature.

The movie does a good job about telling the story of a group of schoolgirls who form a 'special' club for those who lose their virginity - the yellow teddy bears that they wear is the only outward sign that they belong to this club.

The leader of this group, Linda, becomes pregnant by aspiring pop singer and window cleaner with the nickname 'Kinky'. What follows is a tragic tale of a girl who, because of the climate of the time, is unable to talk to her parents and the only 'friend' she can confide in turns out to be a prostitute. The 'friend' arranges for Linda to have an abortion and the only way open for Linda to pay for it is to do her 'friend' a favour.

Into the mix is a teacher who discovers the reason for the yellow teddy bears and tries to help out with her own brand of sex education to the extent that she puts her own career on the line.

Maybe, not the best Sixties movie - but within it's 88 minutes running time it deals with a lot of issues - issues that still exist today.

The film was based on true events in which a group of grammer school girls advertised the loss of their viginity by pinning a Robertson's golliwog to their uniforms.

Again this was a movie aimed at a certain audience and was given an X certificate by The British Board of Censors. However, that audience did get to see this film at special screenings in certain areas (Orpington I do know about - as the screening was at the Commodore). I do know that the 5th formers of two schools went down with their teachers to see it.

Of course, there was outrage as parents thought that it was their job to give their children sex education - a debate that still seems to be going on.

The Festival Of Britain - 1951

Recollections of my childhood would not be complete without a mention of the Festival Of Britain back in the summer of 1951.

It was a fantastic sight with the newly built Royal Festival Hall almost hidden by the Dome Of Discovery and The Skylon.

It was built on the South Bank of The Thames and replaced the warehouses that had stood alongside the river.

It was built, or so I am told, to celebrate the victory of the Second World War and 'cheer up a despondant people'.

Well, I don't know about that - I was just coming up to 6 years of age.

The exhibition not only looked back at the past but forward to a bright new future. Clean cut kitchens with Formica topped tables and fancy fridges. It all looked good but my mum was very dismissive as it all looked too expensive.

Five years later we would have a clean cut kitchen with Formica topped work services and a fridge.

It is estimated that over 8 million people went to the Festival and, I think, they all turned up on the same hot, sunny day that I was there.

Nearby, Battersea Park had been turned into an Amusement Park and funfair. But for me the high point was the Guiness Festival Clock.

Was it all worth it?

For a child it was an insight into the world that I had been born into - and my mum enjoyed the day out. Only the adults understood what it was all about - but for me it was a day of excitement and awe.

All too soon the site was demolished and here I am, in my later years, thinking what a waste of money it was. Especially, with the news that they want to rebuild The Skylon - should have just left the original in place.

Another building would eventually suffer the same fate - The Shot Tower. This was a relic from the 1850s with a tall chimney like tower where lead was dropped to create shot. It became a casualty to make way for the expansion of The South Bank.

Well, that's progress - and The Festival Of Britain has become like a forgotten memory. Many of the things that we take for granted today - well, kids like me saw it first back in 1951.

The Festival Of Britain

Jack Giles: Childhood Reflections

Just thought that I would add one or two things to my last post - and the comments did jog my memory.

The pic is of the house that I grew up in. Nowadays, it is a four bedroom house but when I lived there it was divided into two flats.

The small window to the right (as you look at the pic) was the kitchen. The big bay window was the front room and my bedroom. Then to the rear of that was my parents' bedroom which they shared with my younger sister.

I often wonder if the author Alan Hunter, the creator of Chief Superintendant George Gently, ever lived in my road as he has his creation living in North Finchley and the description of the house he boards in is exactly as I remember the above.

When I talk about my childhood I often err to the brighter side of things but I come back to earth with the memory that I grew up in the aftermath of the Second World War. I could not go to London without seeing the bomb damage - even five or six years on they were still re-building the City.

Rationing was still in force. Despite the shortages somehow or another people got through.

My mum shopped on a daily basis - not like today where we indulge in bulk buying and shove it in the freezer. Even during the blizzard of 1947 my mum went shopping - the snow, so I am told, was so deep that my pushchair was buried halfway. I just imagine myself as a kind of human snowplough.

As a small child I knew nothing of the crisis that blew up in Germany a year later with the Berlin Airlift - but I did become very aware of the Korean War. There was a fear in our house that, despite the existence of National Service, all the ex-servicemen including my dad would be called back.

I recall my mum's fears as we sat and watched the newsreel showing a group of white, arrow shaped missiles. 'I hope those things miss you," my mum said. I said: 'If I saw one of those big arrows coming I'd just roll to one side so that it'd miss me.' No one told me that those arrows exploded and if I had rolled to one side.....

I guess, as children, we more more involved in building on our childhood than worrying too much about what was going on around us.

To see a bunch of kids sitting outside a pub was something that was natural. Parents took their children to the pub and the children would sit outside with a glass of lemonade or ginger beer and a packet of crisps into which they would shake salt from a blue wrapper. Not all parents dumped their kids while they got drunk - it did happen, but for the majority I would see parents attending to their kids. As I went to school with some of those kids it was not unusual to be offered a glass of ginger beer by one of their dads.

That was what it was like back then. People knew each other and they talked to each other.

We played in the street - the sight of a car was a rare thing. But some politician thought that we children should be made aware of a certain danger. So they came up with an advertising idea and a film, aimed at children, about the dangers of taking sweets from a stranger. The very people that this film was aimed at would never get to see it as The British Board of Censors gave it an 'X' certificate.

Blissfully, we played on. I still caught the trolley bus on my own and went down to visit my grandparents. Carried on going to the park on my own and we took sweets from strangers for there was never a hint of an ulterior motive. But, then, most of the sweet givers were the parents or grandparents etc of another child that I knew.

Even as a ten year old I could travel from Orpington in Kent back to Finchley on my own.

Were things differant back then?

I think so - we had far more freedom than our modern day counterparts - but, our modern day counterparts live in a totally differant world than ours.

We grew up with the radio - from 'Children's Hour' to Jet Morgan and Paul Temple. Most people didn't have a television until the Queen's Coronation - and then it was one channel in black and white and not on 24/7. There was a children's hour from 5pm to 6pm and then a break to 7pm when the grown-ups television began with the Newsreel. The gap was to allow parents to put their children to bed. Television closed at 11 pm with the Epilogue and the National Anthem. Then it was a case of watching the screen until the little white dot disappeared.

Jack Giles: Childhood continued

Jack Giles: 1. Childhood 1945 - 1955

If they only knew......I was about 5 or 6 when this photo was taken in my grandparents back garden.

Even as a child I lived and breathed all things to do with cowboys.

My mother made the vest in this pic but I'm holding a pair of Chad Valley Colts.

Another thing that I'm reminded of is that the outfit was made after meeting Gene Autry at Harringey (North London).

Like all kids I wanted to be a cowboy when I grew up - well, there you go.

Our first home was a small flat in North Finchley and my bed was in the front room tucked behind the settee. Later, when we got a black and white television, I would lie upside down and watch things like 'War In The Air' and various plays.

In those days they either showed a play from the West End or a good drama. Unfortunately, my upside down antics were discovered and I was banished to my parents' room until they came to bed.

Watching these plays not only stimulated my imagination but made me wonder if I could become an actor.

Yes, I made it on to the stage at St. John's Primary School's production of 'Rumpelstiltskin' where I played a soldier along with two friends Raymond Marsh and Philip Snow. We always hung around together but that appearance was to be the last for us. The following Easter Philip was killed crossing the road outside the Tower Of London. Ten years later on August Bank Holiday Monday Raymond died in a motorcycle accident.

In 1954 we moved from North Finchley to Orpington, Kent where I found myself being cast in lead roles in the Warren Road Primary School plays. It was when I was in 'The Pied Piper Of Hamelin' that I added something new. The teacher wanted a narrator to introduce each scene but there was no script. So I took the role of narrator and wrote my own lines - much easier to learn.

And that concludes my acting career. I found that the writing was far more interesting.

I learned to read at an early age - in fact I was reading before I arrived in Primary School - and was to produce a kind of rebelliousness in me.

On the classroom wall was the alphabet and with it a picture of an item that began with that letter. We were taught A is for Apple etc and every day we repeated it all by rote. Then we had to do it child by child. The teacher would point at a letter and asked a child what it stood for.

Teacher to me pointing at the letter 'H': What word begins with that letter?

Me: Hoop

Teacher (pointing at picture): No - it's horse.

Me: But, miss, hoop begins with H.

Teacher: It's horse. That is what you are supposed to say.

Me: Hoop begins with an H.

Teacher: Yes, it does but that was not the answer that I wanted. And if you are going to argue with me you can stand in the corner.

I learned one thing - how to rebel but I didn't realise it then.

The first book that I bought was Pat Reid's great escape book 'The Colditz Story'. Still have that book though the pages are fragile, browned and the spine reinforced with black tape. It cost me two shillings (10p) and weeks of going without sweets etc. I didn't lose out on my 'Eagle' comic as my dad could see that I was making an effort to save so he paid for the comic.

In those early childhood years books and comics were the main stimulation. Those and Saturday morning cinema at the local Odeon where we would get a cartoon, a serial and a movie (more often than not a cowboy film). We would come out of the cinema having a shootout or swashing an invisible blade as we emulated Zorro.

Later, I would find a kind of de ja vous when the BBC followed the news with a cartoon, Doctor Who and a Western.

Back in the fifties I was already watching 'The Lone Ranger', 'The Range Rider', and 'The Cisco Kid'.

Our local park, commonly known as The Sandpits, catered for children by building a wooden stockade for the boys and a playhouse for girls. The fort was built close to an area of the park simply known as 'the bog'. This was a muddy, marshy place hemmed in by trees close to the pond where we fished for newts and sticklebacks and stuck them in jam jars. The bog was the fort's weakness for we could creep up on the occupants from this side and they just wouldn't know we were there until we were inside.

Great days - but therein lay the building blocks that would shape our lives.