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Ralph Beer

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July 6, 1986 | Nancy Mairs, A collection of Mairs' essays, "Plaintext," was published recently by the University of Arizona Press. and
"The Blind Corral," Ralph Beer's first novel, represents in many ways a type of male romantic fantasy. A wounded veteran returns, after treatment in an Army psychiatric hospital, to the Montana ranch on which he grew up with his father, Smoke; his grandfather, Harley, and his brother, Summerfield. He intends to sojourn only a few weeks before emigrating to British Columbia to join his true love.
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March 19, 1989 | CHRISTY PORTER, Porter is a free-lance writer in Spokane, Wash.
Circling crows appear like smudges on the pale winter sky, occasionally swooping to peck at frozen road-kill. The last few miles on Highway 15 from Helena to the Butte stockyards are harsh and not that pretty. At the yard, Ralph Beer struggles against a 1,200-pound cow and the cold wind until the animal is finally in the auction stall. Then Beer lights a cigarette, perches on a rickety fence gate and muses on the state of literature in Montana.
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NEWS
March 19, 1989 | CHRISTY PORTER, Porter is a free-lance writer in Spokane, Wash.
Circling crows appear like smudges on the pale winter sky, occasionally swooping to peck at frozen road-kill. The last few miles on Highway 15 from Helena to the Butte stockyards are harsh and not that pretty. At the yard, Ralph Beer struggles against a 1,200-pound cow and the cold wind until the animal is finally in the auction stall. Then Beer lights a cigarette, perches on a rickety fence gate and muses on the state of literature in Montana.
BOOKS
July 6, 1986 | Nancy Mairs, A collection of Mairs' essays, "Plaintext," was published recently by the University of Arizona Press. and
"The Blind Corral," Ralph Beer's first novel, represents in many ways a type of male romantic fantasy. A wounded veteran returns, after treatment in an Army psychiatric hospital, to the Montana ranch on which he grew up with his father, Smoke; his grandfather, Harley, and his brother, Summerfield. He intends to sojourn only a few weeks before emigrating to British Columbia to join his true love.
BOOKS
May 7, 1989
I enjoyed Christy Porter's article on Montana writing featured in the March 19 View issue under the cute headline "Bright Lights, No City." There are a couple of points I would like to bring out, though. Montana has so many good writers, past, present and future, that it would be nearly impossible to list them all. Porter did a good job of listing the ones from the two most notable writing environs, Missoula and Paradise Valley. What was not reflected in the article is that there is a type of writing underground in Montana that is part of neither of those two camps.
NEWS
June 23, 1988 | WILLIAM KITTREDGE, Kittredge, a novelist and scholar of Western fiction, teaches in the creative writing program at the University of Montana at Missoula
Driving south across Nevada on Highway 95, through the steely afternoon distances, you get the sense that you are in a country where nobody will cut you any slack at all. You are in a version of the American West where you are on your own; the local motto is take care of your own damned self. That's where I was, just south of Tonopah, maybe 150 miles north of Las Vegas, dialing across the radio, when I heard the news that Louis L'Amour was dead of lung cancer at the age of 80.
NEWS
July 1, 1987 | BOB SIPCHEN
Our forefathers had civilization inside themselves, the wild outside. We live in the civilization they created, but within us the wilderness still lingers. What they dreamed, we live, and what they lived, we dream. --T.K. Whipple, in the epigraph to Larry McMurtry's "Lonesome Dove" The dreamers gathered in the climate-controlled Holiday Inn convention center here booed the name Larry McMurtry.
TRAVEL
July 19, 1992 | Frank Clifford, Times Staff Writer; Clifford, who once lived in Santa Fe, covers politics and urban affairs for The Times.
The American West is crawling with debunkers these days. A new breed of western writer is making its mark, arguing that the West of the imagination-and in particular of Hollywood's imagination-is on the verge of extinction, its prairies ravaged by over-grazing, its mountains torn up by mining, its forests stripped, and its park lands overrun by commercial tourism.
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