All the things you are

Kurt Tidmore grew up in Texas. He studied Economics and International Law, but later became mostly interested in photography. He worked as chief technical photographer for a major scientific and medical research institution. At the same time his personal photographs were regularly shown in galleries. In his mid-30s he gave up photography and began to write, first technical writing and advertising, then fiction, and received a Masters in Creative Writing at Lancaster University in the UK. After living in Europe for several years he moved back to the US where his first book Bigger’n Dallas was published in NY. Since then he has worked as a book reviewer for the Washington Postand the Boston Globe, and as an editor for several national magazines. He now lives in Ireland with his wife. Kurt Tidmore is also a jazz musician.

John’s wife had been reared on a farm and knew the risks of such a life, but she wasn’t blind to failure anymore than she was blind to the scalding unmerciful sun. She could see the thin soil being carried off day by day by the wind. She could see the ribs of the horses stretching their dusty hides like the poles in the walls of a teepee. And she could also see the far-away look in German John’s eyes when he sat by the door in the evening. So, at last, one evening as they were sitting there she said, “We’ve got to leave, John. We’ve lost. You have to admit it.” He turned and looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time, then he reached out and hit her with his fist, knocking out two of her teeth and bloodying her mouth. “It’s the truth, John!” she screamed up at him from where she fell, “It’s the truth! It’s over!” When she stood up he hit her again.