Ordinary Soil



Terrorized by a shadow from the past, an afflicted farmer attempts suicide under a rotting burial elm, inadvertently unearthing a dark ancestral history and exposing diseased generational roots of abandonment and abuse. But a secret also waits to be discovered, deep in the ordinary soil of the Oklahoma Panhandle, that holds the redemptive power to save both the man and the land.


“Ordinary Soil brings to haunting life the desperate realities of the American heartland but also offers a glimpse into a better future… a call to action for all of us.”


“An epic, beautiful, and compelling story, rich in plot and characters, with a powerful message that needs to be heard by all of us.”

Producer/Director, East New York, The Blacklist, Monk, The Mentalist, NCIS, NYPD Blue, Grey’s Anatomy

“Beautifully written . . . captivates readers with an urgent call to action and a message of pure hope. Woodard eloquently weaves a tale of relatable humanity that inspires us all to embrace our connection to the earth.”

CEO of Kiss the Ground

“Captivating…an essential love story between human and earth. They are one.”

Cabinet Minister for Nelson Mandela and Chairman of the UN Global Alliance for Improved Nutrition

Bison Bridge

You probably weren’t there that Wednesday night, in the tiny dive bar a few blocks from the beach.

If you were there, you’d know.

How four guys who’d never played music together blistered the small stage with Springsteen covers, then stood around at the set break, unsure how to answer questions about their next, non-existent show. Because they weren’t a band, of course. The drummer and singer had just met a few songs ago, even though they’d sounded like they’d been playing their brand of gritty Americana for years.

Which they had been, of course… playing for years, albeit in different bands, in different cities, leading different musical lives entirely, with resumes listing artists from Springsteen to local heroes and neighborhood pretenders, in stadiums and clubs and dive bars.

Dive bars, like that one a few blocks from the beach, where on a recent Wednesday night, four guys who’d never played music together, finally did.