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Rough Beast
Set on what remains of a small family farm in the Blue Ridge foothills of Western North Carolina, ROUGH BEAST depicts the quirky ascension of Larry Ledbetter from small-time country gangster to unwilling literary lion. Larry’s voice is the engine that drives the sometimes comic but often violent narrative. In his attempt to come to grips with both personal tragedies and his inexplicable success, Larry reveals his vulnerability and shared humanity.
82 pages, Paperback
First published January 28, 2014
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March 14, 2018
We are the publisher, so all our authors get five stars from us. Excerpts:
LARRY’S DEDUCTION
He knew that if he worked hard
and did the right things, it would
make no difference; he had
studied Daddy and Burton
battling the sun in the fields,
wiping whole afternoons of
sweat on faded red hankies
they stuffed in back overall
pockets, the hay rake or the
tractor always broken just
before the rain, despite church
donations and prayers over
supper. Momma washed his mouth
out, but he still swore enough
for them all because he knew
there had to be some better
way than doing the right thing.
LARRY’S FIRST APOCALYPSE
A super-red sunset swept across the sky,
a fire come down to us, Larry thought,
and he wondered where his brother was,
out at the brush piles, messing with
the copperheads, or maybe mindlessly
damming the creek for the hundredth time.
The red sky was like a lake of blood,
and it had stopped over the field
and the valley below; time stopped,
Larry was sure, and somewhere Sam
was righting an overturned wash tub
to see the black widow beneath
because he thought it beautiful,
noticing not the sky or that the
end was nigh.
LARRY’S ANECDOTAL EVIDENCE 85
King of Darkness
Nights I’d sit the barn loft
amongst the hay bales
to watch the moonlight
drift between the eave slats,
outlining my bearded face and
shoulders on the back wall,
and I’d wonder about God
and the terrible secrets
men carry to their graves,
and the joint’s orange glow
was just the tiniest bit
of hell poking through.
LARRY’S DEDUCTION
He knew that if he worked hard
and did the right things, it would
make no difference; he had
studied Daddy and Burton
battling the sun in the fields,
wiping whole afternoons of
sweat on faded red hankies
they stuffed in back overall
pockets, the hay rake or the
tractor always broken just
before the rain, despite church
donations and prayers over
supper. Momma washed his mouth
out, but he still swore enough
for them all because he knew
there had to be some better
way than doing the right thing.
LARRY’S FIRST APOCALYPSE
A super-red sunset swept across the sky,
a fire come down to us, Larry thought,
and he wondered where his brother was,
out at the brush piles, messing with
the copperheads, or maybe mindlessly
damming the creek for the hundredth time.
The red sky was like a lake of blood,
and it had stopped over the field
and the valley below; time stopped,
Larry was sure, and somewhere Sam
was righting an overturned wash tub
to see the black widow beneath
because he thought it beautiful,
noticing not the sky or that the
end was nigh.
LARRY’S ANECDOTAL EVIDENCE 85
King of Darkness
Nights I’d sit the barn loft
amongst the hay bales
to watch the moonlight
drift between the eave slats,
outlining my bearded face and
shoulders on the back wall,
and I’d wonder about God
and the terrible secrets
men carry to their graves,
and the joint’s orange glow
was just the tiniest bit
of hell poking through.
Displaying 1 of 1 review