Every boy who grows up in New Mexico, especially southern New Mexico, knows about Billy the Kid. He’s a real presence, an authentic legend. When I was growing up I spent a lot of time with Billy the Kid. We rode the range together. My imagination ran wild with cowboys and Indians. I discovered a book by Will James called Smoky, the story of a cow horse. That was my first great literary experience. I could not put that book down, literally could not put it down. When I had finished it, I read everything I could get my hands on by Will James. Sun Up, all kinds of cowboy stuff. The writing was terrible, but the books were wonderful. It made a great difference in my life. When I was 12 years old, I was, like Alexander, given a horse. There the comparison ends, but that horse meant everything to me. It was one of my great glories. I must have ridden several thousands of miles on the back of that horse in a period of about five years. That was a great time in my life. You know, being the descendent of centaurs, I have always understood the value of a horse, from the time my father began telling me stories. A lot of them were about horses. Horses have always been very important to me.