To me, Ed Gorman was a saint. He was a kind man who educated and encouraged many aspiring writers. His knowledge of genre fiction was legendary and some of my lessons in paperback history came from his writings. He provided endless inspiration when I was working on a history of Fawcett Gold Medal ( in reality, he would have been an ideal candidate to write a book like that). He was an accomplished horror and mystery writer as well. His Robert Payne series of gruesome mysteries, starting with Blood Moon were great. The Autumn Dead (from his Jack Dwyer series), was a sad, yet effective mystery novel. I still need to read more of his horror, but I enjoyed Nightmare Child. His westerns, at least in my opinion, are on a different level.
I’ve scratched the surface of Ed’s contributions to the western genre, but I can already tell you that he brought an appropriate balance of pathos, action, and verisimilitude to his work in this genre as he did in others. Somehow, his westerns hit harder than greats like Louis L’amour and about as hard as Lewis B. Patten. Join me on a tour of a few of his works:
Wolf Moon: I read this one back in 2023 and it still stings. Wolf Moon came out in the early 90s as part of Gold Medal’s last gasps after the publisher had been bought and all but scrapped for parts. The story is about Chase, a young man who was set up and betrayed by Reeves. After robbing a bank, Reeves kills Chase’s brothers and leaves him horribly scarred. Eight years in prison only hardened his hatred of Reeves. When Chase gets paroled, he finds out where Reeves had put down roots in a prosperous mining town. What keeps him from going all in is Gillian, the girl who loves him, but is she enough?
This is one of those noir tales where the protagonist is offered salvation and he throws it away because of his own weakness, in this case Chase’s inability to let go. He is understandable and sympathetic, but things could have gone differently for him if he managed to grow from his experiences. At one point, we get a glimpse into his thoughts, “I wish I was sorry, at any rate. I just wish I didn’t hate him so much.” This feeling is all too human, which makes me realize that noir (in westerns or any other setting) is a aesthetic in storytelling that not only focuses on the downbeat fate of its protagonists, but a part of its dark outlook is from examining characters’ weaknesses and exposing their vulnerabilities. Some of these characters are slaves to their flaws. We get this from how some characters give into their baser instincts in Jim Thompson’s books and this same moral failure can be traced back to a few novels by a guy whose work launched thousands of imitations, James M. Cain (because it is such a human impulse, you can go even go back to Shakespeare’s Hamlet and countless other examples for the similar themes). Of course, by calling Gorman’s story noir, you can tell that it’s going to be bleak. It reads at a lightning-quick pace. Expect gunfights, shady lawmen, and a definite conclusion, just don’t expect a happy ending. It’s a fantastic book.
The Sharpshooter: this was Gorman’s other Gold Medal publication. The story’s events are kicked off by Steve Belden, the asshole son of the town’s father Jeremiah Belden, who dies while trying to make a jailbreak. You see, he killed another man over his ex-fiancé Evelyn, and now his father blames Evelyn for Steve’s death. When Evelyn disappears, her friend the local drunk, Mitch Coldwell, a trick shooter with a dark past, is the only who steps up to find and save her.
This isn’t a typical shoot ‘em up, despite what the title or cover of the paperback might lead you to believe. It mostly concerns Mitch’s investigation dealing with uncooperative people, some not-so legal sneaking around, murder attempts, and confronting his insecurities. He has been unable to live down his greatest failure when he accidentally killed his son during a performance. This is noir of a less bitter flavor than Wolf Moon, but no less sad. We relate to Mitch for his weaknesses as well. He’s a decent man of undeniable talent, but he falls into alcoholism when his son is killed and his wife leaves him. This reminds me a little more of the noir novels by David Goodis about a man who reaches success and is brought down by one tragic event which reduces that man to a shadow of his former self. Now, he is stigmatized as not just the failure who killed his own son, but a hopeless drunk as well. Mitch is heroic not just for his intentions to protect Evelyn but for his courage to work against the odds. I wish there was more action in this story, but the intrigue of Mitch’s search makes up for it. Overall, it’s a satisfying story that I’m glad I tried.
The remainder of my experience with Gorman’s westerns comes from his short stories collected in Gunslinger, The Long Ride Back, and a little from The Dark Fantastic. My first impression as I read his short stories was that Ed was incredible. I don’t feel up to a complete play by play, so here are some highlights:
Gorman’s most famous short western story is “The Face,” which he called existential horror; it also won a Spur award, which is no small feat. This story is about a combat surgeon who witnesses the unit’s morale falling apart after they look at the face of one of his patients. This patient has no injuries but there is an expression on his face (he implies what his face is like but no explicit descriptions) and it makes the viewers lose the taste for fighting. It manages to be not just horror, but an anti-war story with an almost supernatural feel. The resolution at the end is grisly.
“Gunslinger” is not a traditional western but a story about a man who becomes a movie extra in a western while the film industry was in its infancy, with a specific mission in mind. It’s a revenge story with an ironic twist that I didn’t see coming: taken as a whole, it’s psychological horror that is tied into a piece of western history.
“Deathman” is an enigmatic tale about Hawes and a peculiar ritual of sorts that he performs every night before he does a job. It’s only by reading the full story that we come to understand his isolation as a hangman.
“Blood Truth” a bounty hunter is convinced by his prisoner to take him on a detour to visit his mother. The twist isn’t a major shocker but wholly appropriate.
“Pards” is not really a western but it’s about a western fan. A bibliophile and fanzine writer has his big chance to meet and interview his hero, a former western star and now a washed-up has been. I take this story as a parallel to juxtaposition of the myth of the western and the reality of it. The protagonist realizes that the reality of his hero is too bleak for his article and creates the myth that the man deserves.
“Junior” is Gorman’s EC-style western story about a local badman and his wife and son who normally get whatever they want from the town because the townsfolk are afraid what will happen to them if they refuse. When the badman is on his deathbed from an accident, ma and junior are scrambling to get what’s left of the gravy train before it runs dry for good. What happens at the end is also appropriate.
“The Long Ride Home” is one of the shortest in this bunch about a lawman who finds a killer and brings him to justice, his son. This story stands out in my memory because of what wasn’t said, particularly what the father chose not to say to his son who will hang for his crimes.
“The Victim” is the last one I’ll describe. This one is about a reluctant gunfighter who finds out that he’s in the same town as the man who accidentally killed his cousin, a gunfighter who has been haunted by his guilt. You can see where this one is going, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Gorman’s stories are diverse and they are distinguished by their characters more than Gorman’s capacity for action, although he’s no slouch there. At times sad, ironic, occasionally touching, Gorman’s lean and efficient prose carries it through every time. I wish he was still around, but at least I can get to know him through his books that he left with us.
Written by Nick Montelongo
I’ve scratched the surface of Ed’s contributions to the western genre, but I can already tell you that he brought an appropriate balance of pathos, action, and verisimilitude to his work in this genre as he did in others. Somehow, his westerns hit harder than greats like Louis L’amour and about as hard as Lewis B. Patten. Join me on a tour of a few of his works:
Wolf Moon: I read this one back in 2023 and it still stings. Wolf Moon came out in the early 90s as part of Gold Medal’s last gasps after the publisher had been bought and all but scrapped for parts. The story is about Chase, a young man who was set up and betrayed by Reeves. After robbing a bank, Reeves kills Chase’s brothers and leaves him horribly scarred. Eight years in prison only hardened his hatred of Reeves. When Chase gets paroled, he finds out where Reeves had put down roots in a prosperous mining town. What keeps him from going all in is Gillian, the girl who loves him, but is she enough?
This is one of those noir tales where the protagonist is offered salvation and he throws it away because of his own weakness, in this case Chase’s inability to let go. He is understandable and sympathetic, but things could have gone differently for him if he managed to grow from his experiences. At one point, we get a glimpse into his thoughts, “I wish I was sorry, at any rate. I just wish I didn’t hate him so much.” This feeling is all too human, which makes me realize that noir (in westerns or any other setting) is a aesthetic in storytelling that not only focuses on the downbeat fate of its protagonists, but a part of its dark outlook is from examining characters’ weaknesses and exposing their vulnerabilities. Some of these characters are slaves to their flaws. We get this from how some characters give into their baser instincts in Jim Thompson’s books and this same moral failure can be traced back to a few novels by a guy whose work launched thousands of imitations, James M. Cain (because it is such a human impulse, you can go even go back to Shakespeare’s Hamlet and countless other examples for the similar themes). Of course, by calling Gorman’s story noir, you can tell that it’s going to be bleak. It reads at a lightning-quick pace. Expect gunfights, shady lawmen, and a definite conclusion, just don’t expect a happy ending. It’s a fantastic book.
The Sharpshooter: this was Gorman’s other Gold Medal publication. The story’s events are kicked off by Steve Belden, the asshole son of the town’s father Jeremiah Belden, who dies while trying to make a jailbreak. You see, he killed another man over his ex-fiancé Evelyn, and now his father blames Evelyn for Steve’s death. When Evelyn disappears, her friend the local drunk, Mitch Coldwell, a trick shooter with a dark past, is the only who steps up to find and save her.
This isn’t a typical shoot ‘em up, despite what the title or cover of the paperback might lead you to believe. It mostly concerns Mitch’s investigation dealing with uncooperative people, some not-so legal sneaking around, murder attempts, and confronting his insecurities. He has been unable to live down his greatest failure when he accidentally killed his son during a performance. This is noir of a less bitter flavor than Wolf Moon, but no less sad. We relate to Mitch for his weaknesses as well. He’s a decent man of undeniable talent, but he falls into alcoholism when his son is killed and his wife leaves him. This reminds me a little more of the noir novels by David Goodis about a man who reaches success and is brought down by one tragic event which reduces that man to a shadow of his former self. Now, he is stigmatized as not just the failure who killed his own son, but a hopeless drunk as well. Mitch is heroic not just for his intentions to protect Evelyn but for his courage to work against the odds. I wish there was more action in this story, but the intrigue of Mitch’s search makes up for it. Overall, it’s a satisfying story that I’m glad I tried.
The remainder of my experience with Gorman’s westerns comes from his short stories collected in Gunslinger, The Long Ride Back, and a little from The Dark Fantastic. My first impression as I read his short stories was that Ed was incredible. I don’t feel up to a complete play by play, so here are some highlights:
Gorman’s most famous short western story is “The Face,” which he called existential horror; it also won a Spur award, which is no small feat. This story is about a combat surgeon who witnesses the unit’s morale falling apart after they look at the face of one of his patients. This patient has no injuries but there is an expression on his face (he implies what his face is like but no explicit descriptions) and it makes the viewers lose the taste for fighting. It manages to be not just horror, but an anti-war story with an almost supernatural feel. The resolution at the end is grisly.
“Gunslinger” is not a traditional western but a story about a man who becomes a movie extra in a western while the film industry was in its infancy, with a specific mission in mind. It’s a revenge story with an ironic twist that I didn’t see coming: taken as a whole, it’s psychological horror that is tied into a piece of western history.
“Deathman” is an enigmatic tale about Hawes and a peculiar ritual of sorts that he performs every night before he does a job. It’s only by reading the full story that we come to understand his isolation as a hangman.
“Blood Truth” a bounty hunter is convinced by his prisoner to take him on a detour to visit his mother. The twist isn’t a major shocker but wholly appropriate.
“Pards” is not really a western but it’s about a western fan. A bibliophile and fanzine writer has his big chance to meet and interview his hero, a former western star and now a washed-up has been. I take this story as a parallel to juxtaposition of the myth of the western and the reality of it. The protagonist realizes that the reality of his hero is too bleak for his article and creates the myth that the man deserves.
“Junior” is Gorman’s EC-style western story about a local badman and his wife and son who normally get whatever they want from the town because the townsfolk are afraid what will happen to them if they refuse. When the badman is on his deathbed from an accident, ma and junior are scrambling to get what’s left of the gravy train before it runs dry for good. What happens at the end is also appropriate.
“The Long Ride Home” is one of the shortest in this bunch about a lawman who finds a killer and brings him to justice, his son. This story stands out in my memory because of what wasn’t said, particularly what the father chose not to say to his son who will hang for his crimes.
“The Victim” is the last one I’ll describe. This one is about a reluctant gunfighter who finds out that he’s in the same town as the man who accidentally killed his cousin, a gunfighter who has been haunted by his guilt. You can see where this one is going, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Gorman’s stories are diverse and they are distinguished by their characters more than Gorman’s capacity for action, although he’s no slouch there. At times sad, ironic, occasionally touching, Gorman’s lean and efficient prose carries it through every time. I wish he was still around, but at least I can get to know him through his books that he left with us.
Written by Nick Montelongo
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