Shepard's Cowboy Wisdom

In looking at an American writer who is cut from another cloth. Cowboy playwright Sam Shepard has such a unique artistic voice. Last summer I had just written my historical thesis on buffalo hunting in the Great Plains. As a result of my studies I had to travel by car across the great state of Texas from Los Angeles. I went with my father through the Southwest and accompanying me on my journey through Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas was Sam Shepard's "Cruising Paradise." The collection of short stories by Shepard was the perfect type of book for a road trip. At the end of each story is the date and the strange location of where Sam has driven to pen this story. Places like Kadoka, South Dakota/ Langtry, Texas/ Tucson, Arizona. Stories of a writer who never uses a plane to travel, but instead drives endlessly across the country. Women who collide into his life leaving only glass shards. Jobs that he possessed like catching hay bales on a moving truck to collecting money in a tiny booth in New York City. As a reader the most striking thing about Shepard's stories are his attention to detail and the visuals he paints.
For example, here is an excerpt from a story called "See You In My Dreams": "On the little table in front of the rocker were opened cans of half eaten tuna fish and a crusty bowl of Esteban's black bean soup. Stacks of National Geographic, Look, and Life, all barricading the table, with a narrow alleyway leading out toward the sink. A peanut butter jar on the floor, half filled with brown water and soggy cigarette butts."

These visuals put the reader directly into the house of the reclusive character. One of the best choices a writer can make is to never make the reader feel rushed. Every detail and object begins to take on a life of it's own. There is no money shot in a Sam Shepard story. The entire story is described seamlessly.

One of my favorite screenplays by Shepard that was adapted for the screen and directed by German auteur Wim Wenders was "Paris Texas." In the creation of Travis, Shepard formulates a character who is haunted by his past. A man who hasn't spoken in four years and walks around endlessly on the Plains of Texas. All a viewer has to do is look into the eyes of Harry Dean Stanton in the opening shot and they know everything they need to know about the character. In the climax of the film, Travis speaks to Jane on the other side of the glass of a peepshow for 10 minutes straight. In this uninterrupted conversation, Travis poetically fills in the gaps of what exactly happened to his lost love. Jane has to turn off the light inside the peepshow room and Travis uses a lamp to illuminate his profile. Shepard's writing for this scene reaches a summit that only he could climb to. The location of Paris Texas is where lost love is found.