I think the western genre is dying largely because the younger generation doesn't have the time for the past. Always looking for the next game on PlayStation, the next iPhone, or the next 4k, curved screen, 3d, LED television. The time where one man, tall in the saddle is dying. As long as I'm here the Gary Coopers, John Waynes, and Glen Fords will always be alive. Louis L'Amour will still be typing. (I haven't read them all yet.) I know a few "under 30's" that read westerns, but very few. I try to get the young people I know to read. Just that... read. A western thrown in with the action will hook them. Work on the young people you know. get them to read instead of Facebook. Their lives will be better for it.

It's dawn, somewhere in the Nations. Frank Hunter has finished his coffee and is packing up his camp gear for another day on the trail. He walks relaxed and easy. He's been trailing outlaws in the Indian Nations for goin' on 20 years.
His gunbelts creak as he fills his canteen from the little stream he camped by. His big quarter-horse gelding is already saddled. His day begins where the last ended. Looking at a distinctive spot on a horseshoe print in the dirt along the well worn trail. He's 1 day ahead by the looks of the print. Hunter didn't want to catch him out in the open. He wanted to wait till he got to Walner. The talk was the railroad was comin' through here soon.
Frank Hunter was sad to hear it. Whistles and black coal smoke had a way of drawing people. This was about the last of the un-populatd places in the country. The railroad would end it. He quietly mounted up and got on the trail.