Review of Malcolm Brooks's debut novel "Painted Horses," and What I've Been Up to All This Time

So I feel bad for my uncared-for little blog here, languishing away as I rush about in my busy life, never finding time to nurture, as they say. It’s like the freckled orphan in the corner, who you notice now and then, and think, “When did I feed him last?” (Okay, now all the orphans of the world will be upset with me, treating them lightly and all.) It’s been months since I’ve even thought of it, for good reason: I’ve been working on finishing a new novel this summer, and made good progress, but I’m not there yet. I keep telling myself I’ll make time for my blog when I’m finished with the novel, which is like saying I’ll retire when I’m dead. And I am making nice progress on the book, thank you very much, but it’s not done.
Meanwhile I did review a new novel for the Dallas Morning News last Sunday, Malcolm Brooks’s Painted Horses, here.
And I did find time to backpack in Yellowstone at the start of this month, where we were caught in a six-hour rainstorm, laughing and playing cards in the tent the whole time. At the end of it, while it was still raining, we needed to eat dinner, and went outside to find this glorious rainbow, and my daughter, digging it:

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