V.C. Williams | Updates

Tombstone Festival of Western Books

V.C. Williams — Tue, 10 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

I will be at this book festival in Tombstone on March 13, 2026. It takes place in the historic Schieffelin Hall on Fremont Street. My cousin, Dennis H. Williams, a prolific author of Western novels, hopes to be there, too. I am very excited to see the well-known authors, Anne Hillerman, of TV's Dark Winds fame, and J.A. Jance, with whom I had the pleasure of exchanging emails a couple of years ago. These ladies are truly inspirational, and I look forward to meeting them. Descendants of Wyatt Earp and Geronimo will also be there!

If you're in the neighborhood, or even not, make the drive to Tombstone. It will be fun!

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Wanderin' Walkers - Travel with Larry & Vicki

V.C. Williams — Sun, 17 Aug 2025 15:50:38 -0400

I have been writing blogs/memories of our travels for many years. The link below will take you to the latest post, and you can scroll through previous posts as well. I've written about adventures in our RV and other travels here in the USA and around the world. I think you will find it entertaining as you share in our mishaps, new friends, and crazy and lovely experiences in our beautiful world.

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Unraveling the Ties - A Young Man's Journey of Self-Discovery & No Man's Land

V.C. Williams — Sat, 24 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000

In between projects, I started work on a novella about a young man named Randy Stuart and his solitary experience hitchhiking through Europe and northern Africa in 1970. It's inspired by my husband's own journey at 18, when he traveled from Rabat, Morocco, to Spain, France, England, Italy, and back again. Along the way, he survived Algeria's No Man's Land and, through a stubborn, inexplicable positivity, survived emotionally abusive, absent parents, catching a glimpse of his true worth.

I started writing this years ago, partly as an exercise of discovery. I stopped and started several times, but now I believe that by fictionalizing his various memories, mixed in with likely characters along the way, it portrays a fascinating picture of a young man's coming of age. It's a story of how good humor, self-confidence, and intentional will can lead to self-fulfillment, acceptance, and success.

I'm about halfway through the story with much more to write. I'll keep you updated as it develops. By the way, if you've read my previous books, Walking In Deep Sand, or its later edition, Cynthia's Search, this is the same Randy, son of Cynthia and Geoff.

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The Door In the Carnegie Library is NOW available!

V.C. Williams — Fri, 28 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0000

This historical western novel, about a 1960s teenager whose visit to the local library disrupts her life perspective, is now released! I received terrific feedback from my Beta readers and a wonderful critique from Michael Knost, a multi-award-winning Western author, who also conducts novel workshops. I've been working for weeks on making this story as memorable and entertaining as possible. I got some serious help from my husband, Larry, too. He loves to read thrillers and gave me some fantastic advice on the Apache Kid scenes. "More suspense! More tension!" I hope my changes work.

It has been tremendous fun and a great adventure to write this thrilling time travel/slip. Julie Thompson is 17 and feels she's failed at everything she thinks is important. But when a friendly Native American spirit "pushes" her back to 1907, she finds herself in the Old West of her hometown, but little in the tiny, rustic town feels familiar. Julie must discover the reason she's in this antiquated place. Without the magic of inner knowledge, she may never get home again.

Find the book in the Books section. Paperback and Ebook available.

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Featured Presenter at Arizona Territorial Society

V.C. Williams — Thu, 16 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I'll be making a presentation at the November 19 monthly meeting at the Senior Center on Rosser St in Prescott. It takes place at 1 p.m with plenty of parking. I'll be talking about Sarah Herring's younger life when she first came to Tombstone while it was reeling from the events of OK Corral shoot out. I hope you can come by and find out about the history of Sarah and the experiences that changed her life.

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Open Mic at the Elks!

V.C. Williams — Sun, 5 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I will be the featured reader at Open Mic night for AZ Wordsmiths, on Nov 12! It is 6:30 to 8 p.m. at the Elks building in downtown Prescott. Signs at the door will direct you up the stairs or elevator. Other authors will also share snippets of their prose. It is a great time and lots of fun. I will be reading from my book, A New York Lady In Helldorado. Other authors and I will have our books available for purchase.

Keep up to date by following their Facebook page Facebook

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Arts & Craft Show

V.C. Williams — Sun, 5 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I will have my book table set up on October 18, 2025, at the Residence Inn in Prescott. 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Browse the other tables filled with beautiful crafts and art, and drop by my table to chat and buy a book. It's a great opportunity to do some early Christmas Shopping! Buy a raffle ticket to benefit charity, and maybe you'll win something fabulous! Hope to see you there!

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What is Williams Farm Books?

V.C. Williams — Sat, 13 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I've been doing some book signings lately, and this brand is on the skirt of my display tablecloth. It seems to trigger unusual questions, so I thought it might be a good idea to explain it.

I spent many happy hours at the Williams farm south of Chandler, Arizona, from the time I was a little girl in the 50s to an almost teenager. The farm is long gone now, dozed over and developed into thousands of homes. My dad, his brother, and his sisters grew up and worked on that farm. And when they married and had children, we cousins were blessed enough to spend many summer days at that farm together. My grandparents raised mostly cotton on that farm, and at different times, they had milk cows, chickens, pigs, and I'll never forget when Papa decided to raise turkeys for the holidays. They were everywhere, like a swarm of gobbling wattles and feathers surging into every nook and corner of the barnyard.

There was always a vegetable patch beckoning our willing hands to pick enough for supper. I spent time snapping string beans or shelling peas with Mama in the front yard while she told stories about when she was young. Her fried okra was so good, unlike any I've eaten since. She taught me how to sew on her old treadle machine, how to pluck a chicken, and how to hang out the clothes that she handed over after running them through the wringer of her washer. She once caught me before I put a hot iron to my doll's plastic pants. Whew! A lesson on how and what to iron ensued.

Papa always had a ripe watermelon cooling in the well house, which he brought out just when we thought we would perish from the heat. There were plenty of pie pans to go around to receive the big chunks of melon that Papa served up to each of his grandchildren. We sat down at the picnic table in the yard while we discussed if salt was necessary or whether a knife or a fork was the proper utensil for eating cold melon. I always picked no salt and a spoon, but I think salt and a knife were favored. Afterwards, we played Red Light Green Light until it was too dark to see. There was always something fun to do.

Sometimes, when all the cousins went back to their homes nearby, I stayed behind until my parents could drive down from up north to pick me up. I didn't mind because I could swing high in the homemade swing in the yard, singing my favorite song at the time, Que sera, sera, until I'm sure the chickens and Mama were sick of it. When someone appeared at the East Gate of the yard, I'd run for Papa.

They usually needed his help, and he always helped. He'd fill their gas tank or drive them to the grocery store. He never handed out money, but he helped with what was needed. My Papa was crippled as a young boy and walked with a distinct limp, but we never gave it a thought. I know he was in pain every day of his life, but he always had a smile, a lap to sit on, a slice of 'store-bought' cake from Basha's, or a soda pop from the ancient cooler at the gas station down the road. He drove his old Studebaker like it was a race car, dust billowing up behind. We adored him. Everyone did. At his funeral in 1965, people gathered outside and looked in through the windows because there was no more room inside, not even standing room. Everyone loved Archie Williams.

At the farm, we kids were outside all the time, even in 90-100 degree heat. The boys played the marauding Indians, while we girls were homesteaders, 'living' in the unused one-room milkhouse that had an iron bedstead, a wood-burning stove, and even a chair or two. Mama sometimes lit a fire in the stove, and we cooked our lunch. Even in the summer heat! I don't remember what we cooked, but most of the time, the stove was cold, so we picked up castor beans and pretended to cook them. We didn't eat them, of course!

After a long, fun day of imagining, building quilt forts over the picnic table, or climbing up hay bales, we ran into the house and jockeyed for space in front of the wall air conditioner. Later, after supper, homemade quilt pallets were laid out on the floor in the living room, where we spread out while Mama told stories from the Bible. She had a special gift for telling stories about little girls and boys, and how these kids from Bible times learned, grew, and became people we wanted to emulate.

On holidays or birthdays when the adults were there, too, Mama played her banjo, and sometimes my uncle joined in on the piano. We laughed and sang, and my little brother danced a jig. I have countless memories that I cherish every day.

I hope you understand why I want to remember the Williams Farm, not as a working farm exactly, but as a place in my heart that brims with the love of family, storytelling, joy, and imagination. Those are elements in my books. They are part of my upbringing, a legacy I am forever grateful for.

Williams Farm Books. I could tell you stories.....

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Is It Me In The Story?

V.C. Williams — Thu, 21 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000

My historical fiction about a real woman, Sarah Herring, A New York Lady In Helldorado, was enjoyable for me to write. I love history and spent many hours searching out all I could find about her life. I found a couple of newspaper and magazine articles, and a Wikipedia page gave me more information and resources. If any of you have read a biography by such authors/historians as David McCollough or a book of history, such as Bruce Catton's books about the Civil War, you know these books include years of research and little undocumented personal details. Personal letters provide small windows into personalities and personal views on events. I recently read a biography on Calamity Jane. She was illiterate, so there were no letters to show what she thought about or who mattered in her life. While the book was thoroughly researched and the facts painted a picture of her sad, wild, and wandering life, I never felt connected with this woman because I never heard her voice. I can't write without a voice. Sometimes, it must be mine.

When researching Sarah Herring, I found one interview that provided a glimpse into her inner life. I jumped on those details as if they were gold. I could have gone to the historical archives in Phoenix or Tucson to find more. But I didn't. Now, I wish I had taken the time. However, I'm not unhappy with how I wrote the book.

With the little information I found, I began to develop my story and Sarah's character. I decided to make this story fictional because I had only that one interview, assumptions, and a few documented facts to build on. It might make a decent article, but those have been written. Not too exciting. Fascinated with this trailblazing woman, I wanted more. While most sources said that she and her younger brother arrived in Tombstone in 1882, those sources said the town was "still reeling" in the aftermath of the famous OK Corral gunfight. I took my author's fictional license and moved back their arrival to the day after the gunfight of October 26, 1881. I had discovered that her father, Col. William Herring, was one of the lawyers who defended Wyatt Earp after he was charged with murder. What was the catalyst that convinced Sarah, a young schoolteacher, to become a lawyer? I wanted to demonstrate her strong will, her determination, and her intellect, leading to her trailblazing successes. With that decided, I had my story.

Recently, I've read Social Media writing groups' discussions on how an author uses bits and pieces of his/her personality to infuse their protagonist. I do that. Many authors do that. We all have imaginations, but when we're drawing a character with our writing, we can hardly help creeping in somewhere. Having lunch with my sister a while back, we briefly talked about this book, and my sister said, "She's you!" I'm not a lawyer, but I must admit that later in my career in different capacities, I dabbled in legal stuff. I remember a disgruntled employee or two once sued me and the CEO, and/or the company. It was my job to write up details for the attorney. When I handed over my work, one attorney said he didn't need to change a thing. Maybe I missed my calling, but it took too long to figure that out. So I do the next best thing. I write! At this time in my life, it's what I want to do.

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July Book Signings Successful!

V.C. Williams — Fri, 1 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000

My book signings in Fry's Food & Drug Stores on Willow Creek Rd in Prescott and in Prescott Valley turned out great. At all the book signings, arranged through the Authors in Grocery Stores program, I sold a total of fifty-two books!! Yay! This program is great, collecting the sales taxes, so I don't have to. I'm attending a Book Festival in Show Low on August 9, and after that, I'll need to restock my on-hand inventory before I can schedule more book signings. That's an out-of-pocket expense, but these book signings make it work it. Thank you for stopping by and chatting. I enjoyed that almost as much as selling and signing books! It was fun.

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The Writing Journey Goes On

V.C. Williams — Sat, 26 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I've been a writer all my life. I wrote letters a lot when I was growing up. No one called long distance unless it was an emergency. Then I read the book, Anne Frank - A Diary of a Young Girl. So I got a diary and wrote. In fifth grade, my teacher chose me to write an article for the local newspaper that featured my byline and picture. In high school, I had study hall, and used most of the time to write bad poetry and more. Usually about what I wanted in life, or my feelings and thoughts. Teenage stuff. Then I grew up and got a job. At first, the job didn't require much writing, but I still kept a journal. Then, with more time and experience, the jobs required writing. Policies and procedures, personnel manuals, product descriptions, grants, and newsletters. And back to letters. Only they weren't to my friends and family but to Federal Agencies, regulators of various kinds, corporations, banks, etc. Not fun. Whatever needed writing, I wrote it, even acknowledgments for memorial donations. I didn't have a lot of time to journal in those years. I was lucky to get six hours of sleep and to work on time. But after all those years of writing, the only time I wrote a fictional story was in my high school senior year creative writing class. I don't remember what I wrote, but I do remember that one of the girls in class had a serious crush on the young teacher. So much for that.

When I retired from working and writing for others, I determined to write for myself. It didn't happen all at once. My husband has this incredible story of growing up abroad, and everyone kept telling me I should 'write a book' about it. So I did. It took three years and several extensive rewrites before I published my first book, Walking In Deep Sand. I dismissed the idea of getting an agent and a traditional publishing deal. I'm a nobody! But getting that book out and into readers' hands was like learning Greek. But I got it done. I'm a committed and determined person. Now I wanted to become a real author. But I knew I needed to learn about the publishing business and how to be a better writer. Writing for myself worked the first time, but now I want to write for readers, too. I got Writer's Digest, which contained information on literary agents and publishers, how to write a query letter, and much more. I studied, but my feeble attempts were not successful. I discovered I couldn't learn everything I need to know without some direction. I'm good at research and never give up, but some things require an experienced guide. I stumbled on a writing group which promised all that. I joined and for almost two years, I read, wrote, zoomed, traded pages with my writing partners, critiqued queries, and received some critiques in return. I learned a lot. It was worth the time and dedication. Not that I've arrived. I'm still working hard and still striving to write books and find readers to entertain.

If you want to be a writer, write. Every day. A word, a paragraph, a page. Just sit down and do it. I have no problem with that. I learned that kind of discipline years ago, but distraction is ever present. And usually the distractions are those we love. It's a balancing game that we, especially as women, understand very well. I'm still learning and I'm still writing. As long as I can sit down and put my fingers on the keyboard, the writing will go on. If you're a writer, you know. :) I wish you all the best!

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The Editing Game

V.C. Williams — Mon, 30 Jun 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I sent the completed manuscript of my cozy mystery, A Dream Of A Murder, to my publisher recently. But I'm still thinking of things I could have added/deleted to make it better. That's an author's life. It's easy to fall into the "just one more round of edits" treadmill. I 'finished' that manuscript back in November 2024. I set myself a goal to get it done by the end of that month. and I wrote forward daily, even during Thanksgiving, to get it finished. I wrote over 15,000 words! The only way I could do that was to force myself to skip my typos and minor glitches and just get the words down. I had a rough outline and I knew where I was going, so off I went. When it was done. I forced myself to leave it alone while I worked on my other book. The best time to edit a manuscript is when it's cold.

Last month I opened that file again. I used a couple of editing tools to catch spelling, grammar and structure problems and I ran the pages through. Some suggestions I accepted, but I dismissed a few, too. I have thugs and a floozie in my book. Such characters aren't expected to speak The King's English. One tool drove me crazy with the placement of commas, which I admit, I skipped over in my rush to the finish line. But I drew the line at the AI suggestions to restructure entire sentences. It's my work and I'll keep it true to me. Always. I went over that manuscript, word by word, chapter by chapter countless times. I am grateful to AI for catching my mixed up chapter numbers. That helped a lot. But I didn't accept the Chapter Titles AI suggested. Mine are better.

So, it's done, for better or for worse. And to tell the truth, I feel pretty good about it. It's a lighthearted thrill of a ride around the world with only three murders, several detours and red herrings galore. I'll let you know when it's available in ebook and print.

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The Book Publishing Maze

V.C. Williams — Mon, 9 Jun 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Hello, my friends! I thought I knew almost everything I needed to know about the book publishing business. I know now that I KNOW NOTHING! To be honest, I'm a relative newbie at this, and I thought that since I'd attended dozens of webinars on getting a book published, I was smarter than the average inexperienced author. After all, I'd self-published a book and managed that rather well. I knew how to format a print and ebook, design or shop for a premade cover, and I knew my way around KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing). What more did I need to know?

So, when I signed my contract with my Publisher, I thought I had it made. All I had to do was submit my pristine manuscript and a good blurb with a hook. If I had a cover, I'd submit that, too. Once the book was published, I could sit back and collect my hard-earned royalties. What a rube! In today's publishing world, the author's work is only beginning.

I've been following Kate McKean for a couple of years. She's a Literary Agent and Author who, most recently, nailed her first book deal, a nonfiction, Write Through It, about the creative life of publishing. Her newsletters were filled with step-by-step descriptions of her journey to publication. It was a lot of work. The ink was barely dry on her deal with a major New York publishing house when she began to develop her marketing strategy. What? She's putting together a marketing strategy? Yes, she works with her Agent and the publisher's marketing team, but she is deeply involved in making sure the book sells. Without sales in the tens of thousands, one doesn't make much money. Since my Publisher is a small independent, marketing is substantially up to me, too. Just like Kate McKean with the big-time New York publisher.

I knew all that, and I put together my own marketing plan, too. But there were some things I took for granted. Like how much each sale of each print or eBook actually generates in royalties. I got a good percentage with my publisher and didn't bother to read the fine print buried under "Payment of Royalties", which the distributor is responsible for. That was dumb. I missed the part about the 90-day lag between the sale and when the vendor verifies and reports to (pays) the distributor, who in turn, pays me and my publisher. There are also deductions for printing and handling, and by the time the royalty is posted to my account, that good deal I was counting on is substantially less. Until I figured that out, I was upset and confused. But that's the thing. Unless one is already a bestselling author or big-time celebrity, few authors rake in the money like we think they do. If you watch the late shows, the celebrity authors are making the rounds, plugging their new books. It takes work and dedication to write a good book, and work and discipline to make any money from it. That's the hard part for many authors. We are usually introverts, and putting ourselves out there, talking about our books, and doing something foreign like marketing isn't always fun and certainly not easy. But we do it because we want our books to be read! That's it.

So, my friends, am I still upset about the royalties? No, because that's not why I write books. I write because I enjoy writing stories that will entertain and enlighten readers. You, the reader, pay me far more than that direct deposit to the bank account. But that royalty payment doesn't hurt my feelings, either.

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Book Signing Success!

V.C. Williams — Mon, 9 Jun 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I had a great day at Fry's Food and Drug here in Prescott on June 6, 2025. I didn't know what to expect, but after getting my table set up, the customers began stopping by. I answered their questions, gave my 'elevator pitches' and sold books! I had a great location and greeted the steady stream of shoppers as they entered the store. I sold out most of my books and with the emails folks provided, I sent off free chapters from two of my books, hopefully enticing them to buy the book later. I have a new, bigger order in for more books and I hope to schedule another signing soon! Watch this space!

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How To Write a Query Letter and Go Crazy

V.C. Williams — Sat, 10 May 2025 00:00:00 +0000

When I completed my book, A New York Lady In Helldorado, I was determined to get a Literary Agent and a Publishing deal. I self-published my first book, but getting it noticed was difficult and expensive. I researched how to acquire an agent and looked up examples of query letters that got results. I went to work and wrote a query. And another. I researched agents who represented my genre and sent letters I was sure would bring me success. Nothing. No reply, not “this stinks”, no “drop dead”. Nothing. But it wasn’t all bad. Early on, I got a request for my full manuscript. Huzzah! My query letter worked. I sent off the manuscript, hoping to get the “phone call” that she loved it and wanted to represent me and my stupendous manuscript to the major publishers who would give me a huge advance, and my books would sell a gazillion copies in no time.

Sadly, no phone call, but a nice email telling me the sad news. My work didn’t “engage” her as much as she had hoped. My story needed work. That’s a whole other topic. After revising, deleting, and hearing from a few editors, I felt I was ready to attack the literary agents again. I signed up with a writing group, which gave me wonderful training, reams of information, and wise support. In the meantime, I found great tools, like Query Tracker, Publisher’s Marketplace, and Manuscript Wish List, that helped me find the right agents, what they wanted, their publishing history, and lots of other important information. My writing group helped me with tweaking my query and my pages, and I was sure everything was bound to click. Others in the group received full manuscript requests, and some found their agent. I was happy for them. Kinda.

I spent hours researching each agent and tailored my query to that person. I did everything right. My bonding opening was spot on. My blurb teased out the details of what the book was about. Not too much, but enough to interest the agent. The wrap-up was simple and sweet, with my writing credentials, awards, and author memberships. All under 300 words! Remember, if you don’t hook 'em with the first few lines, you’ve lost 'em. That’s hard to do, and it took time. A lot of time.

Sometimes I found an agent I believed was perfect for my story. But she was closed. Many agents take time off from receiving queries to catch up with their work. Literary Agents receive 400 or more queries every month. The popular ones receive many more. Besides processing all the queries, these agents must still manage their client list, sell manuscripts to publishers’ acquiring editors, and much more. Seeing a favorite agent closed, I’d set up a notification trigger, and when the agent opened, fire off my query. But sometimes, during the time the agent is closed, he/she decides to delete a genre that the public isn’t into right now and start working with a more popular genre. This happened to me a lot and made me crazy! I spent over two years querying over and over and over. I got a few positive hits, but no takers. I began to believe no one wanted a historical fiction set in the Wild West. Some agents even said they would not accept a “Western” of any kind. What do they know in New York?

Then, I got the bright idea to query publishers, bypassing the agent. With information from my cousin, a published Western author, I submitted my query to his publisher. Huzzah! I got a contract! It did not come with a big advance or a guarantee of huge sales. Yet, when I signed that contract, a huge boulder rolled off my shoulders. It’s wonderful. No regrets. Not one.

So my suggestion to all you writers who want a book deal. It’s possible. Debut authors get book deals every day. Before you send out your query, do your homework. Spend time, serious time on your query. You slaved on your manuscript, making it the best it can be. Don’t send out a query that doesn’t demonstrate your skill. No shortcuts. Research the publishing business and Literary Agents. The Agent wants to know who you are and that you’re right for her. Prove it with your professional skills, no typos, and personalize every letter. Good Luck!

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An Author Lost In the Technology Desert

V.C. Williams — Sun, 4 May 2025 00:00:00 +0000

When one decides to be a ‘writer’, there are many things to consider. I thought I needed to have a certain amount of literary skill, a creative mind and a disciplined personality. But that, dear friends, is not the half of what one needs to be a writer in today's world.

I set up my workspace in my home and was grateful for a quiet place to work. Son Todd put the desk together and son Aaron put the chair together. Husband Larry built a beautiful bookshelf that accomodates a small printer and my writing resources. He even built a footrest so the ankles wouldn’t swell too much. With my laptop, steno pads, pens and a lamp, I was all set. I began to write.

I usually like to write historical fiction, so writing on my Word document, I have easy access to conduct internet searches of everything that pops into my head. It’s a built in Thesaurus and an encylopedia. What was the clothing like in 1880? When did telephones, elevators and trains come to the Southwest? What route would one take if traveling from New York to Tucson in 1881? All kinds of things. When I was writing my first book, I researched USAID. How did it start and what was it’s mission? Trust me, nobody got rich. Larry told me he remembered the smell of the boiling bitumen that young Camboian women brushed over the highway, with their babies in slings draped over a nearby tree limb. I looked up how that roadwork was done, with oxen moving slowly down the road as the women dipped their mops into caldrons of tar boiling over a coal fire.

I learned a lot. And I wrote my books. I’m still writing and I hope I’ll keep on writing as long as I can type. I learned about the publishing business. A lot! (Future blog topic.) But one thing I didn’t give as much thought to as I should have. Technology. Yes, that fearful word that sends shivers up and down the spine. When I was working full-time, I was often the technology ‘fixer,’ not because I was educated and brilliant. I’m a person who refuses to be beat by a wayward copier, printer or computer. I learned the hard way. And I kept up with most of the required tips and tricks to keep an office running. But that was a long time ago and some things I never learned in the first place. My friend Kathy was a godsend in that office. She knew the lingo and had the talent I lacked. My beautiful daughter-in-law, Hannah, built my first author website and it was a wonderful thing to behold. But she’s a busy wife and mother with two teenagers in the house. Need I say more?

So, when I embarked on my new and updated website, I found a platform that caters to we authors. Think of it! A user friendly platform that I can edit, add, and delete as simply as any Word document. Templates to choose from and everything one needs for a website. Except…

Have any of you heard of DNS? Me neither. I needed to transfer my domain from one host to another. Then I needed to connect my domain to my new ESP (Email Service Provider) so I can collect subscriber information on the website and have an email account connected to my domain. I struggled through that, but what if I actually want to connect with those who like my books or my blog or my ‘brand’ and have been so kind as to sign up to my mailing list? I need an email service provider. That is where my technology skills hit a brick wall.

I’ve spent hours of the past two days trying to ‘authenticate’ my domain email so I can reach out to the reading public. I’ve not admitted defeat yet. I’m calling or emailing these guys tomorrow and I will prevail. Wish me luck.

By the way, that new domain email is: vcwmail@vcwilliamsauthor.com. It works, too! And that URL code? I did that. But this one is just a picture. It's not activated. I can make barcodes, too. See what I mean? Technology is taking over and we creative types have to get on board whether we like it or not.

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Sarah and the Gunman

V.C. Williams — Mon, 28 Apr 2025 00:00:00 +0000

The first time I met him in 1881, I was so excited. And so scared. As a twenty-year-old schoolteacher recently arrived from New York, I was more naïve than I owned. I assessed this man of whom I knew so little. He was tall and lean, made of grit and sinew, without an ounce of fat. The angles of his face were sharply unyielding, and I felt a little afraid of his imposing appearance.

Within days, I was sitting across from him at our dining table. I was here because Papa needed my help. I wavered at first, but my father’s eyes convinced me. For the first time in my life, Papa needed me, and I could not say no.

Papa’s presence eased my trepidation when I first met him. But now we were alone. Unconsciously, my teeth clenched. Despite his intense appearance, his soft-spoken greeting dispelled most of my anxiety. “Pleased to see you again, Miss Herring.” His warm smile contradicted the wild tales shared by my brother. As we talked, his spare words and lack of emotion made me wonder what he hid inside. Then he told me how he struck a man with his pistol, knocking him down in the street. He said the humiliated scoundrel still wanted to kill him.

I shuddered but leaned across the table and asked, “Has anyone ever knocked you down that way?”

He lowered his head, his eyes narrowing under his strong brow. With a voice of flint, he said, “There’s not a man alive to tell about it.”

I was stunned. He spoke as one who lived by a set of rules utterly foreign to me.

Despite or maybe because of it, he inspired me.

How could this memory, so clear now in my mind, have happened so long ago? I wasn’t much more than a girl then and incapable of guile. I wasn’t sure who I was or what I wanted, only that I could not accept my parents’ conventional expectations. This man looked into my soul, spoke the truth, and pushed away the haze of my uncertainty. Throughout his lifetime, he was known by many labels—sheriff, marshal, prospector, saloon owner, and horse racer. But to me, he was simply my friend. My friend, Wyatt Earp.

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