April 4, 2015

I currently live in northern New Mexico, after stints in Louisiana, Texas, the Netherlands, Scotland and Norway. I'm on the masthead at the Prague Revue. I launched a novel last year with Southern Yellow Pine, Jupiter and Gilgamesh, a Novel of Sumeria and Texas. I was a finalist in the 2014 New Mexico-Arizona Book awards in four categories.
I've been a finalist a few places but never a winner. I've published here and there but received enough rejection to achieve humbleness. That publication list is dull but available – what is more important is that I cut and split all my own firewood, live a mile from my nearest neighbor, and write grants for the community. ~Scott Archer Jones

January 1, 2015


I currently live in northern New Mexico, after stints in the Netherlands, Scotland and Norway. I believe that this exposure to other cultures makes me a natural to tell a story of a tenuous connection with a blues great.
I'm on the masthead of the Prague Revue. I have a novel out this year, Jupiter and Gilgamesh, a Novel of Sumeria and Texas. I've been a finalist in a few contests but never a winner. I've published here and there but received enough rejection to achieve humility. I'm a finalist in the 2014 New Mexico-Arizona Book awards in four categories.
The publication list is dull but available – what is more important is that I cut and split all my own firewood, live a mile from my nearest neighbor, and write grants for the community.

October 1, 2014

Scott Archer Jones is currently living and working on his fifth novel in northern New Mexico, after stints in the Netherlands, Scotland and Norway plus less exotic locations. He’s worked for a power company, grocers, a lumberyard, an energy company (for a very long time), and a winery. Now he's on the masthead of the Prague Revue, and has a novel out this summer, Jupiter and Gilgamesh, a Novel of Sumeria and Texas.  Website -- www.scottarcherjones.com 
 

STRIKE NOT

Las esperanzas engordan pero no maintienen.  Hope fattens, but it doesn't keep you alive.
It turned noon as David Alvarez raised the roof of the Crusher.  With short little explosive sounds, the Rambler lying in the Crusher’s bed released tension from its new shape, as if it tried to pop its bones back into its joints.  The compressor topped up its pressure, and when the gauge showed right for a fast restart, David turned off the diesel.

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