Jack, While I hope your new business provides you with joy, challenge, and security, I never really forget both the great beginning you gave me as a writer, and, possibly, the absolute lowest moment in my writing career. You fucked me pretty hard a couple of years back. Even if…
Leave a CommentAuthor: Patrick Dobson
Dr. Patrick Dobson is a work in progress until his termination. In the meantime, He is a writer, scholar, postman, and college professor living in Kansas City, MO.
The University of Nebraska Press published his travel memoirs, Canoeing the Great Plains: A Missouri River Summer in 2015 and Seldom Seen: A Journey into the Great Plains in 2009. Canoeing the Great Plains won the 2016 High Plains Book Award in Creative Nonfiction and the Thorpe Menn Literary Excellence Award. His essays and poems have been published in New Letters, daCunha, Kansas City Star, Garo, Wood Coin, and JONAHmagazine, and others.
Dobson earned a doctorate in American History and Literature at the University of Missouri-Kansas City in 2013. He has edited books, taught journalism, and been a union ironworker. He now teaches American History, Modern Latin American History, and Western Civilization at Johnson County Community College in Overland Park, KS.
He looks forward to hearing from you soon.
red grit on Indian trails ignitedquantrill’s lust for blood, and he scalpedtwo farmers on the way to Lawrence he waved those scalps like torchesand lit up the eastern prairielike it hadn’t been since creation after the dead were lined up and shotthe cinders cooled and the smoke clearedhe hung that…
Leave a CommentLisa, You’re E-mail today reminds me what a lucky woman you are. I know the grass over the fence gets you higher, and all that, but it’s good to hear about your family visit in their small town. I don’t know if you are around your parents, siblings, or relatives.…
Leave a CommentMy efforts with getting book events at independent bookstores fascinate me. Indies in smaller towns elsewhere are incredibly interested in having me around. Urban indies could give a shit. Corporate stores, sadly, welcome me with open arms. What’s an anti-corporate iconoclast to do? Indies were the first stores I contacted…
Leave a CommentToday, I was weeding the raingarden at the community center. It was a cold day, in the 30s, and my kid was whining about his hands and feet being cold. He wanted to go home, having gotten bored watching me yank on zoysia rhizomes and curse the bane of decent,…
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