I grew up in Idaho, the kind of place where the mountains keep their secrets and mud season lasts longer than it should. These days I call Texas home, which either makes me a traitor or a translator, depending on who you ask.
I’ve worn a lot of hats — pastor, writer, podcast host, saddle maker, DJ, and the person still trying to finish a mystery novel that’s been simmering longer than the pot of pintos on the back burner of my stove.
No Grit No Pearl started as a way to talk about faith and hard seasons without the polish. Here’s Waylon started as an idea many years back — tamped down, ignored, then finally, slowly, becoming an actual book.
If you’re here, you probably like a good story, a little grit, and someone who isn’t afraid to admit the paint’s still wet on most of this. Pull up a chair — there’s coffee, and I promise not to make you talk about the weather the whole time.