Saddle up, we’re writin’ West and gunnin’ for paydirt
Randolph Steele has a swagger to it. A name that will sell a hard-bitten Western novel. I once worked with a fellow subeditor who penned such sagas, and a stack of them. Yet he was English – suit-and-tie English – and he’d never been to the United States – nor, I suspect, thrown his leg over a horse, aside from a carousel at Brighton Pier.
‘‘You’ll be itching to go West,’’ I said. ‘‘Taste the prairies in person.’’
No, he shrugged. Research was good enough.
It was a dispiriting moment, like when you find out that the songwriter of Georgia On My Mind had never been to Georgia, and Ray Charles was courting trouble if he’d performed the song in that segregationist hellhole. You never trust the tender lyric again.
My workmate used a nom de plume, which escapes me. His work may well be on the shelves of Western literature in my local library. I was there to use the wi-fi.
No joy. The Aotearoa People’s Network rebuffs my laptop.
She’s getting on, admittedly, but I’m not the kind of slug who lusts after younger models with sexy processors and big RAM. We’ve been together through thin and thin. She’ll do me yet.
My glance wandered to the horse operas at my elbow, and I thought, ‘‘We can do that, girl. You and I could knock one out in a couple of days’’.
Have gun, will prosper. The Wild West ethos is hot again in the US, right up to the White House, where Marshal Trump advises being heavily armed to go to church or school.
These books must sell by the wagonload in such a climate. I’ll strike gold in them thar tills.
First, build the foundations – and sure enough, the authors’ names are writ large.
Warner Grayson. That’s cute. Sounds like a 1950s actor striding Dodge City. Jonas Ward, likewise. Clint Ryker – short, tough and manly.
Ethan Flag and Tyler Hatch are Nebraska gothic. Jake Douglas could fit a new set of wheels on your buggy.
Peter Taylor and Hugh Martin might have put in a bit more effort. How’s about something vaguely Old Testament, like Wade Everett, or presidential, like Jackson Gregory and Dane Coolidge?
Curt Longbow is sailing close to the PC wind. Not that we ain’t inclusive. A whiff of perfumery did Louis L’Amour no harm.
Giles Tippette is pushing it, but Abe Dancer’s gotta go, and Arthur St George might be a remittance man from Sussex.
The pros throw in a middle initial, as American authors will: James B Hendryx, Terrell L Bowers, Walter A Hopkins (as distinct from Walker A Thompkins), Owen G Irons, and my favourite, Wayne D Overholser.
Others dispense with the Christian name altogether, though L D Tetlow is a tad socks-with-sandals.
The show ponies go full-barrelled, except you’d mistake Carter Travis Young and Johnny Mack Bride for country singers in bulbous Stetsons. I’m stickin’ with Randolph Steele.
Now to the plot. Retribution is mighty pop’lar: Reckoning at Lansing’s Ferry, Blood Quest, Dry Gulch Revenge, Montana Vengeance, and The Trail of Vengeance. In short, Vengeance is Unbound.
How to get to this paydirt? I’ll avoid The Savage Plain, and with fuel prices cantankerous, The Long Road to Cheyenne doesn’t appeal.
Splintered Canyon is not the scenic route, I’m guessin’, and Bitter Sands promises a Torturous Trek, endin’ in a holler to the AA.
I ain’t gonna head ’em off at the pass, either Treachery Pass, Skeleton Pass or Badman’s Pass.
The Bandit Trail is sure to be on an MFAT warning list. I could Ride The Wild Country across a Dark Mesa, but there’s been an Incident At Fall Creek, a Slaughter At Snake River, and War has broken out In Lincoln County.
Accommodation will be scarce at The Devil’s Corral since there’s been a Death At The Yellow Rose, so I reckon it’s a case o’ The Quick and the Dead in finding a bed.
Might take some protection. The Marshal of Sundown looks reputable, The Sheriff of Hangtown less so, and The Phantom Sheriff next to useless. The Paintin’ Pistoleer is a no, I’d wanna see some references from The Tarnished Star, and even the Teacher With A Tin Star is suss.
Now Mr Gunn, he walks the walk. Gunmaster advertises hisself as The Fastest Gun in the West with a Gun In His Hand, though he’s sure to command Slick Money.
The Buzzard Guns and Sparrow’s Gun could be bird-brained. The Gunsmith can repair the Broken Gun if it’s emitting too much Gunsmoke. There’s Killer Gun, High Gun for the stoners, and The Quiet Gun and Green Gun for environmentalists.
I might buy A Gun For Silver Rose because there’s The Big Gundown festival en route, Guns at Q Cross, featuring the well-known heavy metallers Guns of the Brasada and Rifles On the River. But by then I’ll likely be Shot To Hell. It’s all Dust and Bullets at those gigs, and the portaloos are rank.
Cain’t see no scope for sequels in The Business Of Dying, To Die This Day, All Must Die, Comes The Reaper and The Last Ride. Dang it. Looks like Paytime For A Good Man might be harder than I thought.
Still, research done.
Saddle up, old girl. We’s got ourselves a mess o’ hogwash to scrawl before sundown.
The Wild West ethos is hot again in the US . . . I’ll strike gold in them thar tills.