John Myers Myers – författare

John Myers Myers authored sixteen books, including Doc Holliday and Tombstone's Early Years, also available as Bison Books.

"John Myers Myers has written Doc's story with a skill that matches the sureness of a bullet from Doc's gun."-Dallas Times Herald. "As for the general reader, he'll eat this up and beg for more."-San Francisco Chronicle.

Before his most fabulous adventure (celebrated by John G. Neihardt in The Song of Hugh Glass and by Frederick Manfred in Lord Grizzly), Hugh Glass was captured by the buccaneer Jean Lafitte and turned pirate himself until his first chance to escape. Soon he fell prisoner to the Pawnees and lived for four years as one of them before he managed to make his way to St. Louis. Next he joined a group of trappers to open up the fur-rich, Indian-held territory of the Upper Missouri River. Then unfolds the legend of a man who survived under impossible conditions: robbed and left to die by his comrades, he struggled alone, unarmed, and almost mortally wounded through two thousand miles of wilderness.

Bravos of the West is a panoramic history of the development of the West after the Lewis and Clark expedition. Appearing, exiting, and reappearing in this history are trappers, traders, prospectors, gunslingers, missionaries, soldiers, and scientists. Here they are shown trapping beaver, confronting bears, trading, and discovering natural wonders as they advance ever farther into the wilds. John Myers Myers begins with the struggle for Texas and follows the men and women who came West: the mountain men beyond the mouth of the Yellowstone, the emigrants to Oregon, the fortune hunters to California, the Mormons to Salt Lake, the stagecoaches, express ponies, and steam-engine trains through mountain passes and open country, and the outlaws to all of it. Playing their roles on this huge historical stage are Andrew Jackson, Davy Crockett, Hugh Glass, Jim Bowie, William Ashley, Mike Fink, Jim Bridger, Kit Carson, Thomas Hart Benton, Stephen Austin, Sam Houston, Peg-leg Smith, Mountain Lamb, Marcus and Narcissa Whitman, Jack Swilling, Henry Plummer, Jack Coffee Hays, Deaf Smith, John Charles Frémont, Brigham Young, John Sutter, Sitting Bull, Cynthia Ann Parker, Joaquin Murrieta, and Wild Bill Hickok.

She gave him a look that made him feel warm all over. “How would you like to make a survey of the Road for me? All I need is a clear, objective report based on first-hand observation. All the others I commissioned never lived long enough to give me one.”“What was the matter with them, except being dead?” the professor asked nervously.“They got tangled up because they didn’t know how to look at things. I don’t know why I never thought of turning the job over to a scientist before.”“That’s a mistake voters make, too” he allowed modestly, then loosened his collar. “Er, when do you want me to start?”“Right away wouldn’t be to soon.”“Oh! I couldn’t miss my one-thirty class,” he hedged.“You won’t,” she assured him. “That is unless you get drowned in space, chewed up on land or sea, mobbed, or worse.” She ran a hand reassuringly though his hair.“Just do, for my sake, be careful, pet.”Resistance was useless. She was Venus. He was the merest of mortals. Ten minutes later, in spite of all his best efforts, he found himself being borne off through the sky in a chariot drawn by four eagles!

A. Clarence Shandon was just an MBA from Wisconsin before a shipwreck transported him to the shores of the fantastic Commonwealth of Letters. He journeys through history and myth, meeting unforgettable names from Circe to Robin Hood along the way. But the journey changes him from the studious, conceited academic to a legend in his own right: Silverlock.

“I half expected to run across my opponent as I escaped, but as it turned out I met no one at all in my stealthy trip to get my saddlebags from my room and my equally secretive visit to the stable. My horse was against being saddle at such an hour, but my grim firmness made short work of his rebellion. A drizzle abetted the dank chill of the hours as I rode forth . . . Next time I met that one, I swore to myself, things would be different.”

Yesterday I was delirious, and the day before that, or several before that. Tonight, though, I seem to be aware of everything I’ve ever known . . . . It’s dark, double dark because of the mist that August steams from the Colorado. Yet I can see almost very place I’ve ever been . . .All the men I liked are having drinks with me or yarning around campfires scattered from the Appalachians to the Pacific Coast. All the enemies I’ve fought are visible beyond the muxxles of guns or the points of knives . . . All of the women I’ve wigwamed with, including the two who demanded the law’s blessing, are either smiling or showing they wished they never met me . . . But I could never really belong to civilization, for once I hand helped to create it, I yearned for a place on which it hadn’t laid an ordering hand.

“I tell you what I’ll do,” he said. “The stage won’t be no good to me until Powder Keg amounts to somethin’ . . . I’ll bet a coach and team against what’s on the table, draw and show down.”His offer was a sufficient warning of his strength. However, I still liked my aces. A pair of them pack a lot of power in a two-handed game, and I had the feeling that my luck had not run out . . .I counted my aces as casually as pounding pulses would permit. “Can you beat ’em?”His face showed me he could not . . . “How about loanin’ me your pony?”

“What would I do in Mississippi?” I asked.“What you want to and can.” He sat down again and turned toward me. “It’s all open. There’s a state to be made, and there’s a free hand for the fashioner. Half the available land hasn’t been claimed now, and there’s a new treaty afoot that’ll send the Chocktaws west of the river to give the state a vast new territory.” He clenched a hand. “That country must and will be settled, and it’s better that it be done by Southerners.”

SILVERLOCK is one of the all-time great fantasy classics. In this richly picaresque story of a modern man''s fruitful adventurings in legendary realms of gold, John Myers Myers has presented a glowing tapestry of real excitement and meaning. In essence, this is the tale of Silverlock''s wanderings in the Commonwealth, the land of immortal heroes real and imagined, in search of his true destiny. In form, it is sheer headlong narrative, with occasional clangorous verses woven into its fabric. In content, it is something between a many-peopled, incident-studded story of high emprise, and a morality for our time. Always it is fresh and bold in concept, superb in its execution ... How A. Clarence Shandon came to the Commonwealth, exchanging his everyday name and Chicago-bound life for that of a traveler beyond time; what great ones of old legend and modern story he encountered, and to what purpose; what loves he knew and what fights he fought; what trials befell him in the Pit, and what truth he discovered when at last he won to the Hippocrene Spring--these are matters of such crowding variety and implicit significance as the reader must discover for himself ... And in the discovering, the literate reader will have a wonderful time. He will be amused by the wicked wit that illumines the vast panorama, and intrigued by the challenge it offers his own learning. Most of all, he will be impressed by its profound knowledge, of our cultural heritage, and stirred by its vital interpretations