When I Came West is Laurie Wagner Buyer’s account of her terrifying and exhilarating years in Montana as she changes from a girl too squeamish to touch a dead mouse to a toughened frontierswoman unafraid to butcher a domestic animal. Living in a cabin far away from family and friends, with the nearest neighbor four miles away, Laurie finds herself caught up in two love affairs: one with the volatile Vietnam vet Bill and one with the untamed West—even as she recognizes, in the words of one neighbor, “It is plumb foolishness to love something that cannot love you back.”
A few books are still available on Amazon and from her publisher.
Laurie’s 6th Letter: (Sent to DK with Permission to print)
On October 19th, I wrote to Matt Bokovoy once more stating, “The rough draft of When I Came West is being printed as I type this to you. It needs work. Some more organizing, tightening, getting rid of repetitions, working on transitions so that the stories flow one to the other, and perhaps a concluding chapter. And, of course, more polishing.”
I told Matt that I needed to do a serious revision and then send my rough draft out to personal readers who could help me “find the holes and spot the glitches.” Then I would revise once more and send the manuscript to him.
Response from my third reader, an accomplished writer with a Ph.D. in English Literature, came back to me on December 7, 2005. She stated, “I was surprised and delighted with how well this flowed, especially given its origins in so many separately published pieces…I think you did a remarkable job organizing your experiences and creating emotional momentum and seamless meaning for the reader.
Congratulations! I think it will be a wonderful success.”
Finally, on January 6, 2006, I was able to write to Matt Bokovoy, “Thank you for your patience and your encouragement over the past six months. Finally, here is the manuscript for When I Came West.
I told Matt that while the story had been shaped and polished I was open to suggestions for revision if need be. At Matt’s request, I also sent along an expanded list of experts in the field of Literature of the American West who might be willing to read the manuscript and offer an opinion on its viability as a memoir.
Meanwhile, I was still wrestling over my final chapter, which didn’t seem to want to find a good ending place. My three personal readers were rigorous in their comments that the last chapter had to be just right.