Willie Nelson

Digital audiobook read by Christopher Ryan Grant.

Oh, Willie! I’ve had a long-standing crush on the “red-headed stranger” and am glad to have learned more about him, because I like him even more now.

Willie lays it all out there. He talks about his childhood and the importance of church and faith in his upbringing. He talks about the poems he began writing when he was still in grade school, and how music filled his soul and helped him express himself. He talked about family and yet show more tried to maintain some privacy for his wives and children. He doesn’t shy away from chronicling his mistakes and owning them – from profligate spending to drinking to adultery – but he also celebrates his shining moments and gives credit to the many people who helped him along the way.

I listened to the audiobook read by Christopher Ryan Grant. I have to say that Grant’s delivery made me think that it was Willie, himself, relating the story. So I was somewhat disappointed that when he mentioned the lyrics of some of his more famous songs, they were spoken rather than sung. On the other hand, the audio does have a bonus at the end with a small section read by Willie and then a song. show less

I don't usually review CDs, but hey, this is WILLIE NELSON for cripes sake! Who I've been listening to for over forty years (and even at that I was late to the party). And it's probably his fifty-umptieth album, and he's eighty-frigging-six YEARS OLD! And I don't understand how the ol' fart does it, but he just keeps getting BETTER! His writing, his singing, his picking' - on that wrecked old gut string guitar he calls Trigger - it's all just so great! He does a couple Guy Clark songs here show more that will just blow you away, and "Come On Time" - a catchy little tune - is a kind of challenge to mortality itself. There is not a clinker on the whole album (but then it's Willie, so ...). I've only had RIDE ME BACK HOME for a week, but I've listened to it at least a dozen times. It's a soul-soother in these troubled times. Five stars? Shee-it! Gotta be at least TEN! Thanks, Willie. Please don't ever die, okay? Oh, and P.S. If you're an old guy like me, use headphones, 'cause you don't wanna miss a word or a note. It's that good. show less

I've heard Willies music most of my life. He's always been there, not a favorite at the moment pop star but a favorite to listen to when I needed some comfort and memories. Willies songs tug at the memories. I finally got to see him live In March 2020 right before Covid shut the Houston Rodeo down. He sung from his heart, his sister on keyboard his son on vocals. It was a night I'll always remember. I never really knew much about the man except for his public charity works, and thought it show more was time to read up on him from his words and his sisters.
Respect to these two for opening up about their life, the best, worst and middle ground times. A brief life story of a sister and a brother from their different views. Both open their hearts and let the pain and joys out, shared with the world. They have had some struggles, some heartbreaking soul crushing events and yet they still go on, still love, create and laugh. show less

FICTION
Willie Nelson (with David Ritz)
Pretty Paper: A Christmas Tale
Blue Rider Press, an imprint of Penguin Group (USA)
Hardcover, 978-0-7352-1154-4 (also available as an e-book, an audio book, and on Audible), 304 pgs., $23.00
October 25, 2016

“It was a rough Christmas in a rough town,” December in the early 1960s, and Willie is headed into Leonards department store in downtown Fort Worth to do some holiday gift shopping when he spies a man down on his luck, both legs amputated above the show more knee, balancing on a rolling board, hawking wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows on the sidewalk. Willie buys his Christmas gifts and goes back outside to look for the man with the pretty paper, but he’s gone.

Willie, intrigued by the quality of the man’s voice when he was singing out about his ribbon for sale — and suspecting he might be a musician — returns to look for him several times. The man on the board is Vernon Clay. He does have a story, one he doesn’t want to tell, but Willie is compelled to discover what brought a man with that voice so low. When Willie sets out to make things right, the situation quickly becomes complicated.

Pretty Paper: A Christmas Tale is “autobiographical fiction” from Willie Nelson (with the help of longtime collaborator David Ritz), based on his hit song of the same title. Pretty Paper seems simple, but as with Willie’s songs, you soon find yourself in the deep end of the pool, tackling big questions like the nature of God, betrayal in business and love, and why bad things happen to good people. Inexplicably drawn to the enigma of Vernon Clay, Willie makes a human connection with a stranger, and does the right thing because it’s the right thing to do.

Pretty Paper is peopled with colorful characters. There’s “Nutsy” Perkins, a local enforcer and bookie with an affinity for white fedoras with purple feathers in the brim, a drummer called Brother Paul (“who understood [Willie’s] personal sense of rhythm. Not everyone does.”) given to wide-brimmed hats and black capes, and Ranger Roy Finkelstein, who owns a record store in Garland (“Garland is where the action is. There’s more to Garland than meets the eye.”) where Willie tracks down clues to Vernon Clay.

Willie’s good-natured, dry wit is here. A British music promotor wearing a monocle and tweeds wants to take Willie to England. Brit: “Let’s proceed to the dining room for tea and crumpets.” Willie: “Or bourbon and barbecue. This is Memphis.” When Willie tries to talk a nightclub owner into letting Vernon Clay sing with his band, the owner responds with, “Seeing some guy in a wheelchair don’t make nobody wanna dance.”

A feel-good, quickly paced holiday tale, Pretty Paper is sometimes too sweet, with a couple clichés too many, but these flaws are infrequent. More often, we are treated to Zen Willie: “cosmic conspiracy” at work and advice to “love the mystery,” extolling writing and music as therapy, release, and exorcism, reminding me in turn of O. Henry and Jimmy Buffett.

It’s a slim, handsomely designed volume; the dust jacket features an iconic drawing of Willie in saturated color, complete with a red bandana anchoring his braids, and a green scarf warming his neck. The interior is similarly thoughtful, with simple charcoal drawings scattered throughout and the edges of the pages changing color by section, striped like a candy cane. This first-person narrative of seasonal serendipity reads as if you’re hanging on the tour bus with the man himself, telling tales. The final touching twist left me smiling, as any good Christmas tale should.

Originally published in Lone Star Literary Life. show less