Jack Ledger Interview

 Pictured: William T. Anderson—“Bloody Bill.”
The most feared Bushwhacker of the Civil War. Quantrill’s right hand. Jesse James rode with him.
So did Franco Loco.
For a time, they were brothers in blood.
But only one walked out of the fire. 

What inspired you to write this story—or this series? 

The original story was supposed to be a screenplay. I had just taken Dov Simens' Two-Day Film School course online—the same one Tarantino took before making Reservoir Dogs. A friend recommended it to help me unlock my writing. And it worked. The stories that had always lingered in the background suddenly aligned, and for the first time, I had a process. Then one day, listening to Franco Country radio, to a song I couldn't even understand, the melody hit me. I began thinking about my French heritage and wondering: were there ever any French cowboys in the American Wild West?

Then it struck me—France loves all things Western, but never had a real gunslinger of their own. Let's give them one.
Franco began as an orphan boy raised in the shadow of French nobility, cast across the sea to survive the American Civil War as a teenager. When he returns to France, he brings the Wild West with him—dust on his boots, vengeance in his heart, and the promise of reckoning on his shoulders.
That’s when the story took off—like gunpowder catching flame. 

Why Westerns?

My love for the West and the last frontier didn't come from a movie theatre. It came from growing up in places like Montana, Florida, and Alaska, and spending summers on farms and ranches in Texas and Michigan. We went to rodeos like they were church revivals, I learned how to ride horses, wrestle a calf to the ground, and how to handle a gun. Then came California, and now Missouri, the home of Jesse James, Bloody Bill, Cole Younger, and Belle Starr. You can even throw in William Munny from Clint Eastwood's 'Unforgiven.' He was from Missouri. Fictional, yeah, but so is Franco Loco. As far as I know. I ain’t a cowboy. But I do know how to ride. 

Is there a personal connection to your main character? 

Absolutely. Franco Loco is me. His story is my story, just dressed in a different time and place. It’s about survival, loss, redemption, addiction, rage, recovery, and the spiritual journey of a man who keeps rising no matter how many times he's fallen.

How long have you been writing, and when did you know this was “the one”?
I've been writing since I was a kid in 1974—4th grade in Montana. Wrote my first sci-fi short story and felt something spark. I dabbled in short stories, songs, poems, screenplays, but nothing stuck... until now. This story exploded like a gusher. I didn’t write it so much as I watched it come to life.

What’s your writing process like?
Controlled chaos. I sit on a cushion in front of a large glass coffee table, my laptop open to Scrivener, with a monitor behind it. Yellow notepads everywhere. Pens, Inc. R2 Rollerball's 0.7mm, black. Books stacked on the couch, floor, fireplace, nightstand. Websites, newspapers, YouTube history rabbit holes, and tabs open like an air traffic controller. I lived this book.

Do you outline or write by instinct?
Pure instinct. I don’t chart maps—I follow the storm. I become the character. What do they see? What do they fear? What memory haunts them? Franco didn’t just live in my head—he was my head. I had a beginning, middle, and end mapped out by Day 3. But the path kept shifting, as stories do when you listen closely enough.

I also lean on music as a muse. It sets the emotional tone, helps me summon the right imagery, the rhythm of a scene. Sometimes I’ll loop the same song over and over—until the words start breathing on their own. If there’s one track that captures the soul of Franco Loco, it’s Todd Snider’s haunting cover of Sympathy for the Devil. That song doesn’t just play—it testifies.

How do you build emotionally complex characters?
I read books on character, tropes, dialogue, structure. I studied westerns, historical dramas, Eastwood films, Sergio Leone's visual poetry. Then I researched—relentlessly. The characters became more real than most people I know.

I've lived a rich life moving all over the world when I was younger, so I’ve had people from all walks of life around me. But it was Alaska that truly shaped me—that wild stretch of land where I spent the longest growing up, and still consider home. My Navy experience deepened that even further—putting me shoulder to shoulder with extraordinary people from every corner of the world, and dropping me into cultures I’d only read about. From Shanghai to Saudi Arabia, the backstreets of Subic Bay to the mosques of Bahrain, or joint ops in the Red Sea to midnight watch on the Indian Ocean—I was living my own version of Michener’s Tales of the South Pacific, one wild chapter at a time. And after that, I never looked at the world the same way again. 

My life in Los Angeles—from the high-powered corporate world and Type-A sales trenches to my recovery journey through a certain fellowship—put me up-close and personal with some of the most fascinating, unforgettable personalities you’ll ever meet. But my life in St. Louis is the foundation that holds it all together. If not for this city—its deep Civil War roots, its role in the Missouri-Kansas border wars, its old soul built in red brick and rusted steel—I don’t know if this story would’ve ever taken root. St. Louis is layered, brutal, and beautiful. And like me, it remembers everything. That’s where my characters come from. 

What does your editing/revision process look like?
Messy. Notes across dimensions. Word, Excel timelines, napkins, Scrivener, emails I send to myself with notes, bill envelopes, voice memos at 3AM. I wrote like I was on fire. Editing came in bursts, usually after the smoke cleared. 

How do you balance historical accuracy with storytelling?
History helped me tell the story. I didn’t bend facts. I found the truth and placed my character inside it. Research made the timeline stronger. And when I hit walls, I kept digging until the story gave me an answer.

What makes Franco Lacroix different from other antiheroes?
He isn’t just dark or tragic. He’s real. A brutal survivor of noble lineage, twisted upbringing, and spiritual death. He gets sober. Finds meaning. And still ends up burning it all down. Because legacy is complicated. Sometimes the hero is the villain. And sometimes the villain is the last man standing.

How does Beneath the Red Clay tie into this universe?
It’s the nonfiction spine of the saga—the real Confederate drug deals, forgotten French cavalry, opium rings, guerrilla massacres, and royal scandals that shaped this world. You want to know what really happened? Start digging.

Do you see this as a book series or something more?
This is just the beginning. Books, films, historical education, media. I want this to become a living world people can enter, learn from, get lost in—and come out changed.

What’s the deeper message behind this series?
Redemption. Recovery. The spiritual war we all face inside. This isn't just about getting sober—it's about living sober, fighting sober. Franco's story is a roadmap for anyone lost in the darkness who still hears a voice whispering: You can come back.

Why addiction, war, family trauma, legacy?
Because I lived it. And I know millions of others have, too. This story is a mirror. A weapon. A lifeline.

Is this a redemptive arc or something darker?
It’s redemptive. But with a warning. Because when Franco falls again... the world better watch out. You don’t slay the Dragon of the Camargue and walk away clean. Not unless you’re willing to live in the ashes.

How does your own recovery shape this work?
It is this work. Every scene, every lesson from Samuel at the reformatory ranch—those were real teachings passed to me. I’m just paying it forward.

Are there Easter eggs in the series?
Dozens. Historical, literary, cinematic. Hunt away.

Who would play Franco in a film?
Finn Wolfhard. No question. He’s got the look, the haunted eyes, the talent.

What’s next for Jack Ledger?
Hard sci-fi. After we burn the old world down... we build a new one.

If you could leave readers with one line?
"If you always do what you always did, you will always get what you always got."

What would you say to someone lost, haunted, maybe with a drug or alcohol problem?
You don’t have to die like this. Reach out. The hand will be there. Maybe not the one you expect. But it will be there.

Copyright © Mark Ferland, writing as Jack Ledger. All rights reserved. 'The Ballad of Franco Loco' original poster artwork on the author's page was created by Robn Meeks.