Poet, Philosopher, Parking Lot Attendant…
Flynn McGuin is something of a Renaissance Man

Or at least he’s worked at some interesting occupations.

In I Rode for the Wigglin’ W, a young Flynn accepts the job offer of his dreams—riding, roping, and wrangling in the hills of Wyoming.

Within hours of arriving at the Wigglin’ W Ranch, he regrets his decision. The place is, in Flynn’s own words, an insane asylum with a Western motif. He’s anxious to beat a hasty retreat, but a slip-up involving damage to ranch assets costs him a week of indentured service.

Debt paid, he’s once again ready to skedaddle, but instead misses the bus, winds up in a saloon, and falls hard for a beautiful dancing girl.

As love awakens his heart and incapacitates his brain, Flynn forgets fleeing and commences a clumsy courtship. Things are clearly going his way until he realizes he’s made some enemies. Also, the girl isn’t interested in being courted.

Or is she?

With sly wit and tongue-in-cheek humor, I Rode for the Wigglin’ W delivers everything you’d expect in a rollicking Western parody: Evil villains, bar-room brawls, scheming swindlers, naked protestors, and of course, forbidden love!








A unique and delightful modern Western that’s more City Slickers than True Grit

In this debut novel, Harder brings a sharp, folkloric sensibility and plenty of humor to the not-so-wild West of 1970s Wyoming. …Harder’s prose throughout is solid, and he creates a great first-person narrative voice for Flynn. He portrays him as a fish out of water, but one with plenty of wit behind his observations. As much as the situations provide moments of humor, Flynn’s perspective is a vital element that makes the depiction of cow-hating ranch owners and other players really pop. Many other humorists might have exhausted the wild and crazy characters after only a few short jabs about their particular eccentricities, but Harder’s steady pacing keeps things fresh and engaging throughout. All-in-all, the novel is fast, fun, and a little disorienting—a bull ride that readers aren’t likely to forget.   ~ Kirkus Reviews


Refreshing and humorous

A refreshing tale that had me laughing out loud many times, McGuin presented a delightful change of pace from the drama of today’s world. I highly recommend “I Rode for the Wigglin’ W” and hope to see more tales from Flynn McGuin. – Ann Christine Fell, Author of Sundrop Sonata and In the Shadow of the Wind













A Clever Tale Through and Through





My husband and I brought this book to read aloud on a road trip and we laughed all the way through! A clever tale of dreams and heartache, perseverance and surprises, all told by a character you’ll easily grow fond of. Saddle up and grab your tissues because you’ll laugh until you cry in this first (and hopefully not last) Flynn McGuin memoir! – Amazon customer






Impossibly absurd, yet entirely relatable!

If you’ve never had a shattered dream, a bummer of a job, or a roller-coaster relationship, this may not be the book for you. For the rest of us, Harder’s hyperbolic humor may be just the healing we need. Lovable drifter, Flynn McGuin, goes from dilemma to adventure, to dilemma, with each situation growing in absurdity. For a genuinely “tall” tale, the story arc, the cast of characters, and the (sort of) triumphant ending are remarkably satisfying. – Amazon customer








And then there are glowing evaluations from these highly respected sources…






“Equal parts tall tale and romantic comedy, McGuin’s recollection of a bittersweet summer in the 1970’s is a roller-coaster ride of dreams and disappointments, love, longing, and laughter. From the trial-by-fire of branding season to the final not-so-triumphant trail drive, “I Rode for the Wigglin’ W” is humor with heart.”   —  American Parking Lot Attendant Magazine

“An outlandish …adventure—first-rate entertainment served up with rollicking wit.”  —  Beemerville Banner/Bugle-Blower Book Review

“As Flynn McGuin approaches his twilight years, he realizes the importance of preserving memories. Writing forty years after the ‘fact,’ McGuin goes well beyond preserving memories—he gives them a complete makeover.”  —  Fergus Inknose, Antique Doorknob Enthusiast

“A week after I finished reading “I Rode” I was still laughing!” – Michael B., former assistant funeral director





That’s right folks! For a limited time only (from now until you leave this web page) you can read several chapters of I Rode for the Wigglin’ W absolutely FREE! Find out if this Award-Winning novel is for you. SPOILER ALERT: it is. Meet the lovable but gullible Flynn McGuin and learn how his misadventures began back in the summer of ’77. Did you think that was 1877? Nooo… 1977! This isn’t an Old-West story. This is a ’70s Baby Boomer story. And it’s not exactly a Western either. Sort of, but not really.

Click here to start reading! https://a.co/hJteNgD






More to come, but we will start with the single most obvious question:

Q: The mental image of a “worm ranch” being operated as if it were a 19th Century land and cattle empire is, admittedly, hilarious, but how in the world did you parlay this 1-2 line joke into a 92,000-word adventure/romance novel?

A: It began in 1980 when a coworker and I happened to drive past a sign for Hickam’s Worm Ranch. Half a block later, my colleague was laughing. I asked what was so funny. “I was just wondering,” he chortled, “whether worm ranchers use tiny little lariats to rope the worms, then brand them with tiny branding irons.”

The rest of our day’s work was repeatedly interrupted by a profusion of worm ranch one-liners as we bantered back and forth, each trying to outdo the other with increasingly preposterous descriptions of life on a worm ranch.

Not long thereafter, the young marrieds’ group from our church held a function in which each couple was invited to share how they met. It was at this juncture that worm ranching became a part of my personal “story” and took a romantic turn: I had met my wife when she was a can-can dancer at a saloon in Wyoming and I was employed at a nearby worm ranch. (I might add that we were seated in a circle which meant that I would go first. My dear bride, bless her heart, had suffered amnesia and could only corroborate the very last part of our story wherein we were reunited under rather mundane circumstances.)

Nonetheless, my extemporaneous recollections went over well enough that when the opportunity arose to provide entertainment for a Valentine’s Day dinner, I expanded the story into a 20-minute monolog complete with some of the traditional songs wormboys sang around the campfire.

The element of rivalry between wormboys and cowboys arose when I realized some of the wormboys’ music, culture, and lore had been hijacked by Hollywood and rebranded (so to speak) as a portrayal of cowboy life. Presumably, to increase ticket sales, these media moguls had substituted thousand-head herds of cattle being driven down a dusty trail for the historically accurate million-head herds of worms driven on a slimy trail.

Thus, the “Western” had come into vogue with no regard for historical integrity. For example, wormboys almost never engaged in gunfights. And when they did there were few casualties. Wormboys are simply too skinny to make easy targets.

Nashville committed a similarly egregious usurping of wormboy ballads, churning out butchered reworkings of such classics as “Streets of El Wormo” “My Heroes Have Always Been Wormboys” and even spinning, “Rawhide” from the beloved classic, “Wormslime.”

As a life-long champion of truth, I felt compelled to make a stand. From that point on I was on a mission to set the record straight.

And the rest, as they say, is fiction. Thirty-seven years later, my carefully researched and thoroughly fact-free expose’ of wormboy life and culture was ready for the world to hear.