If you were to tell me 10 years ago that I would become a fan of western novels, I’d probably give you a funny look, but such is the case now, buckaroos. Westerns, or at least a few movies here and there, provided a minor backdrop in my upbringing. Bear in mind that I was a young man when westerns had a brief return to box office prominence in the late 80s/early 90s with Young Guns, Tombstone, Quigley Down Under, Unforgiven, Dances with Wolves, and Back to the Future III. With that being said, I didn’t really read any until I was much older.
I recall back in 2012 when I read Joe Lansdale’s Dead in the West and a few years later, I read The Magic Wagon. I didn’t realize it consciously, but I started to like westerns quite a bit. However, I was so focused on horror that it took dominance over everything else. That changed in 2021 when my reading world expanded to crime noir, pulp heroes, and western novels. It started with Louis L’Amour’s novel Hondo, which had simple but evocative poetry in its prose. L’Amour’s gift was not just in writing an engaging western story, but in describing things in such a way that it made it easy to visualize. If he isn’t credited with being a great stylist, I would like to point out that he fulfilled the primary focus of language: to communicate. A lot of would-be “literary” writers sacrifice this element and replace it with opacity, stark fragmentary images with little correlation to the story to convey any real meaning to the reader, leaving them to come up with weird interpretations to fill the gap. Critics expect there to be hidden meanings in books and some writers seem to take pleasure in making them spin their wheels. L’Amour didn’t do that. When he wrote about a prairie, a desert, or gunfight, it was about a prairie, a desert, or a gunfight. I plan on revisiting L’Amour in another article, particularly to talk about his contributions to Fawcett.
My research into Fawcett Gold Medal had its beginnings in 2021 and started in earnest in 2022. I had to bite the .44 bullet and read some westerns since they comprised a sizeable dent in Fawcett’s catalogue. As a result, I read more L’Amour, Elmore Leonard’s classic Valdez Is Coming (one of the best westerns out there), Clifton Adams (a true artist), and Ed Gorman’s underrated Wolf Moon. Because writers work with multiple publishers, there was a significant overlap with other imprints, such as Lion. I began researching Lion too, and although it is difficult to get a detailed summary of its history, they gave us some excellent books too like .44 by H.A. deRosso and Flint by Arnold Hano. By 2023, I knew that I loved westerns but was overcommitted with reading other books.
Now we are in early 2025. Reading the graphic novel Ghost of the Badlands by RazörFist and George Alexopoulos spurred me to read more westerns and to watch more of them too. As a result, I watched The Angel of Death Trilogy (starring Eastwood in Hang ‘em High, High Plains Drifter, and Pale Rider), The Dollars Trilogy (Fistful of Dollars, For a Fistful More, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly). Actually, I’ll watch The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly this week, having only seen half of it years ago. I also watched Django and The Great Silence, filmed by Sergio Corbucci, Bone Tomahawk, and recently Unforgiven. By Django, I mean the original spaghetti western starring Franco Nero (I like the Tarantino film, but it was a homage to this one). I have RazörFist’s videos on westerns and the background info to the making of Ghost of the Badlands to thank for this rekindled interest.
Also, I’ve been reading piles of Louis L’Amour novels, my favorites of his include Flint, Hanging Woman Creek, and The Iron Marshall. I also tried out Harry Whittington’s Desert Stake-Out, Hombre by Elmore Leonard, Shane by Jack Schaefer, Gambling Man and Noose for the Desperado by Clifton Adams, Destry Rides Again by Max Brand, and the list goes on. Much like my discovery of horror, I’m wondering where these books and movies have been all my life.
This leads to an important question, since I’m a contemplative type. Why? What is the appeal of the western? For me, it works on an elemental basis. The idea or image of an outlaw riding out into the wilderness is appealing. The lone gunslinger/warrior archetype is almost programmed into my DNA as something to seek out. Kind of like sword and sorcery, the lone gunslinger/warrior facing crazy odds is appealing in way that’s deeply personal to me because it involves the outsider against the world. I’m a loner and wasn’t always one out of choice, and so I can relate to this. This isn’t to say, that the gunslingers in some of these stories, are always alone, but in many cases these are stories about people who have no choice but to rely on themselves. Self-reliance is a tough lesson that I’m still learning, but when I embrace it, it’s usually a rewarding effort, and it’s a clear trope in westerns. If anything, I like westerns for their tough-as-nails protagonists, who had no choice but either to toughen up or die, partly because it reminds me to be tougher. Many protagonists in these books, not all, also provide good examples for the kind of person that a man should aspire to be. L’Amour proved how a hero can exude the positive qualities of masculinity without the toxic traits or straining believability that they could actually exist.
Somehow, westerns tend to hit the spot and I’m glad for that. I plan on a few more western-themed articles in the near future, so bear with me. I plan on writing about Weird Westerns (westerns with horrific or supernatural themes), Louis L’Amour, H.A. deRosso, and maybe a discussion or two about films I’ve been watching. Put on your Stetsons, tighten your belts, and load your Colts because it’s going to be a wild ride.
Written by Nicholas Montelongo
I recall back in 2012 when I read Joe Lansdale’s Dead in the West and a few years later, I read The Magic Wagon. I didn’t realize it consciously, but I started to like westerns quite a bit. However, I was so focused on horror that it took dominance over everything else. That changed in 2021 when my reading world expanded to crime noir, pulp heroes, and western novels. It started with Louis L’Amour’s novel Hondo, which had simple but evocative poetry in its prose. L’Amour’s gift was not just in writing an engaging western story, but in describing things in such a way that it made it easy to visualize. If he isn’t credited with being a great stylist, I would like to point out that he fulfilled the primary focus of language: to communicate. A lot of would-be “literary” writers sacrifice this element and replace it with opacity, stark fragmentary images with little correlation to the story to convey any real meaning to the reader, leaving them to come up with weird interpretations to fill the gap. Critics expect there to be hidden meanings in books and some writers seem to take pleasure in making them spin their wheels. L’Amour didn’t do that. When he wrote about a prairie, a desert, or gunfight, it was about a prairie, a desert, or a gunfight. I plan on revisiting L’Amour in another article, particularly to talk about his contributions to Fawcett.
My research into Fawcett Gold Medal had its beginnings in 2021 and started in earnest in 2022. I had to bite the .44 bullet and read some westerns since they comprised a sizeable dent in Fawcett’s catalogue. As a result, I read more L’Amour, Elmore Leonard’s classic Valdez Is Coming (one of the best westerns out there), Clifton Adams (a true artist), and Ed Gorman’s underrated Wolf Moon. Because writers work with multiple publishers, there was a significant overlap with other imprints, such as Lion. I began researching Lion too, and although it is difficult to get a detailed summary of its history, they gave us some excellent books too like .44 by H.A. deRosso and Flint by Arnold Hano. By 2023, I knew that I loved westerns but was overcommitted with reading other books.Now we are in early 2025. Reading the graphic novel Ghost of the Badlands by RazörFist and George Alexopoulos spurred me to read more westerns and to watch more of them too. As a result, I watched The Angel of Death Trilogy (starring Eastwood in Hang ‘em High, High Plains Drifter, and Pale Rider), The Dollars Trilogy (Fistful of Dollars, For a Fistful More, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly). Actually, I’ll watch The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly this week, having only seen half of it years ago. I also watched Django and The Great Silence, filmed by Sergio Corbucci, Bone Tomahawk, and recently Unforgiven. By Django, I mean the original spaghetti western starring Franco Nero (I like the Tarantino film, but it was a homage to this one). I have RazörFist’s videos on westerns and the background info to the making of Ghost of the Badlands to thank for this rekindled interest.
Also, I’ve been reading piles of Louis L’Amour novels, my favorites of his include Flint, Hanging Woman Creek, and The Iron Marshall. I also tried out Harry Whittington’s Desert Stake-Out, Hombre by Elmore Leonard, Shane by Jack Schaefer, Gambling Man and Noose for the Desperado by Clifton Adams, Destry Rides Again by Max Brand, and the list goes on. Much like my discovery of horror, I’m wondering where these books and movies have been all my life.
This leads to an important question, since I’m a contemplative type. Why? What is the appeal of the western? For me, it works on an elemental basis. The idea or image of an outlaw riding out into the wilderness is appealing. The lone gunslinger/warrior archetype is almost programmed into my DNA as something to seek out. Kind of like sword and sorcery, the lone gunslinger/warrior facing crazy odds is appealing in way that’s deeply personal to me because it involves the outsider against the world. I’m a loner and wasn’t always one out of choice, and so I can relate to this. This isn’t to say, that the gunslingers in some of these stories, are always alone, but in many cases these are stories about people who have no choice but to rely on themselves. Self-reliance is a tough lesson that I’m still learning, but when I embrace it, it’s usually a rewarding effort, and it’s a clear trope in westerns. If anything, I like westerns for their tough-as-nails protagonists, who had no choice but either to toughen up or die, partly because it reminds me to be tougher. Many protagonists in these books, not all, also provide good examples for the kind of person that a man should aspire to be. L’Amour proved how a hero can exude the positive qualities of masculinity without the toxic traits or straining believability that they could actually exist.
Somehow, westerns tend to hit the spot and I’m glad for that. I plan on a few more western-themed articles in the near future, so bear with me. I plan on writing about Weird Westerns (westerns with horrific or supernatural themes), Louis L’Amour, H.A. deRosso, and maybe a discussion or two about films I’ve been watching. Put on your Stetsons, tighten your belts, and load your Colts because it’s going to be a wild ride. Written by Nicholas Montelongo
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