Hey James,

I've been meaning to write to you for sometime, but every time I sit down to do it, I get hung up that it's not going to come out the way I want it to.

I'm doing well. I've got one more semester of classes before I start my fieldwork this summer and fall. I'll graduate in December if everything goes as planned.

I never told about my trip to Robert E. Howard's home in Cross Plains over the summer. I was in Austin attending a course certification and I had it in the back of mind for sometime to make a journey to Robert's homestead. I had been out skulking the streets of Austin all night and on a whim I headed north to Cross Plains at about 1230 in the morning. I was a bit tired, but I grabbed a few energy drinks for the road. Most of the drive was fairly boring, but as I approached REH's home I could see the thunder and lightning dancing in the distance. I'm somebody who has a strong appreciation for the elemental and I felt that it was a good omen.

I arrived in Cross Plains at about 5 in the morning and I immediately drove to REH's home. I had not planned any accommodations in Cross Plains, so I really no other choice but to sleep in my piccup, which I have done many times before. On the road adjacent to REH's house I parked my vehicle for evening. Being fairly sleepy, I went into a half-sleep. In the midst of my half-sleep a torrent of rain came down that shook my piccup. The eye of the storm was literally right on top of me. This didn't bother me because I thought it was rather fitting given the circumstances of being in such a location of significance of the modern heroic, author REH. I really couldn't have asked for a better welcome in my opinion.

I awoke about 8 am with my body stiff from the long night of partying and travel. I headed for the local doughnut shop and grabbed something to eat. Afterwards, I went back to REH's home and pondered the landscape through what I imagined would be REH's eyes. I stood in the areas where he had taken many of his photos and I touched the trees that had been here when he was living. I really tried to honor the moment of a man who kept the heroic alive in his writing. I was really in awe that he lived so close to me here in West Texas. It made me start to reflect that the latest stage of my journey is more than just coincidence here in Texas. Along with making contact with you and especially your interest in the heroic and REH. Also the many honor-based, masculine individuals that I have come into contact with have made their impression on me. Maybe the points are beginning to converge?? I feel stronger and healthier than ever. In fact, more human, which I think is a prerequisite for achieving higher levels of self. All I know is that I'm going to keep striving to embody my ideals.

The Heroic Never Dies,

Bart

Literary Impressions of the Prose and Verse of Robert E. Howard