My current novel in progress is about Desert Steve Ragsdale, a quirky man who was a minister, a cotton farmer, and the founder of Desert Center, California. He founded the town in the middle of the desert, 50 miles from any civilization. Steve felt there needed to be a stop along the route from Phoenix to Los Angeles with fuel, refreshments, and repair facilities.

Postcard of Desert Steve at the grave he built for himself
Postcard of Desert Steve at the grave he built for himself

At that time, in. the early 1920s, there was no road between Phoenix and Los Angeles. It was merely two ruts in the shifting sands of the Colorado Desert. Steve and his wife and their four children scrabbled out of life in the sand and succeeded. When the Colorado River Aqueduct was built nearby, the town flourished, as it did during World War II when General Patton built a training airfield just outside the little town. The later discovery of a massive iron deposit nearby also increased the town’s status. The invention of paid healthcare happened in Desert center, as did a murder and a flying saucer cult.

Desert Steve himself became one of the “Desert rats” of the area— men and women who loved the desert, protected it, and did their best to educate people about the flora, the fauna, and desert life. Prospectors, con men, artists, writers, painters, all made up many of these scrappy adventurers. They published articles, magazines, books, and flyers. They celebrated Pegleg Smith and the legend of his lost mine. They lead Sierra Club treks into the hills and mountains of the desert.

Desert Steve ragsdale outside his Santa Rosa cabin.
Desert Steve ragsdale outside his Santa Rosa cabin.

This is my second historical fiction novel, and it is by far the most difficult novel I have written. It isn’t the writing that’s difficult, it is the research. My first historical fiction novel was about a slave in the first century Roman Empire. There is a massive amount of data on the Roman Empire, Roman slavery, culture, religion, economics, family life— you name it, many have done deep research and writing into these areas. It was not difficult to find the best resources, read them, and then craft the story (based on real life events).

But there are no definitive works about Desert Center, nor about Desert Steve Ragsdale. There is a lot of information, but it is spread out in tidbits here and there, or in brief overviews in newspaper and magazine articles, internet sites, discussion lists, Facebook, and a few books here and there that deal with other topics but mention Desert Steve and his town. So I find myself searching, thinking of different ways to search, looking for different resources, and sometimes following rabbit trails that often lead nowhere. I’ve even talked to some people who met Desert Steve before he died in 1972. Some of the information I discover conflicts with same information from other sources.

I began writing the first draft last year, but I would finish a scene and then wish there was more information. Having a specific topic to research, I would find more, which might lead to some other information that has nothing to do with the scene at hand, but might be useful later.

So I find myself writing in fits and starts, making good process on the first draft, and then suddenly being sidetracked because I may have missed some important piece of information.

The first draft is close to being finished, only two chapters left. It will be a great relief to finish and begin the second draft. Yet I already know what will happen: as I begin re-organizing scenes, deleting, adding, I will find out something else that I need to research. I do expect this phase to go quicker, and I do expect to finish the book this year. But it has taken four times longer than I thought it would when I began.

Author Markus McDowell at the site of Desert Steve's Ragsdale's Alligator cabin.
Author Markus McDowell at the site of Desert Steve’s Ragsdale’s Alligator cabin.

I am not complaining, for it has been a wonderful adventure and learning about the desert, and the surrounding areas, including Blythe, Palm Springs, and Palm Desert (where I spend a lot of writing time). It makes me believe that I could write historical fiction about any anywhere in the world, and it would be an exciting, educational, and fascinating research project.

However, my next project will not be historical fiction, but rather a speculative or science fiction novel. I already have the basic idea and outline, and I am working on it during downtime from the current novel, ghost writing, and editing for other writers.

I am sure that after I finish the novel, I will find even more information about Desert Steve. Perhaps there can be a second edition, although that is not usually my style. Once the baby bird has been pushed out of the nest, I generally leave it to fend on its own and look forward to the next.

For now, I get back to Desert Steve, as he has been appointed sheriff of his own town, with his own way of dispensing justice…


Cover of Nuff Sed: A Novel of Desert Steve by Markus McDowell.

Desert. Sun. Sand. No roads or human settlements within fifty miles in any direction. The perfect place to found a town?

That’s what Steve Ragsdale believed. So he and his wife bundled up their four kids in their 1915 Ford Model T, bought a local prospector’s shack and well, and built a fuel station (50-gallon drum), a repair garage, and café. He advertised “Free food on days the sun doesn’t shine” and “No drunks, no dogs—we prefer dogs.” He was the owner, sheriff, rockhound, author, naturalist, desert guide, and Santa Claus at Christmas.

He became one of the local “desert rats” and earned the moniker “Desert Steve.” Along the way, he became part of history: the Colorado Aqueduct, the construction of the first State and National highways, the invention of prepaid healthcare, General Patton and World War II, the largest iron mine in the United States, flying saucer sightings, murder, and much more.

Based on a true story, this is the tale of a quirky, clever, and bold man who pursued a dream, wrote bad poetry, and found ways to survive when many would have perished or packed it in.


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