Free Comic Book Day 2019: The Haul

I spent the bulk of my selections of free comic books selecting things I'd never heard of except for the DC comics ones. But the two stores I went to in Houston--The Pop Culture Company and Bedrock City-- also yielded some interesting finds.

Probably the most fun comic was a Shazam 100-page giant. What great timing considering I just had a Shazam-themed month of posts.

I've heard good things about Denny O'Neil's run of The Question, and I picked up volume 1.

I love Hard Case Crime but have never read one of their comics. Now I have one.

Finally, a pair of books devoted to pulp fiction. One is Don Hutchison's book about pulp heroes while the second is a book called THE PULPS, published in 1970. Here, author Tony Goodstone actually read hundreds of pulps magazine and selected some representative samples. Looking forward to seeing what a guy in 1970 thought was a good sample.

So, what issues did you buy yesterday?

Forgotten Books: Mascarada Pass by William Colt MacDonald (2019)

(2019 update. On a lark, I scoured this blog to see the book I reviewed first for Patti Abbott's Friday's Forgotten Books way back in 2008. How ironic, then, did I rediscover it was a mystery set in the old west by a railroad detective.

In my introduction to EMPTY COFFINS, the first Calvin Carter: Railroad Detective book, I openly acknowledge the role Gregory Quist played in forming my own character. Back in 2008 when this review was written, I began looking for old Quist novels in used bookstores. I found a few to add to the collection I inherited from my grandfather, but I only read two of them. Now, in 2019, as I've written six Carter novels, I may have to read another Quist novel and see how Carter and Quist compare. From what I can remember about Quist, he was a true cowboy whereas Carter is a refined actor. To be honest, Quist and Carter's partner, Thomas Jackson, would probably get along just fine.

Anyway, I thought I would republish my very first Forgotten Book today.)

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After Patti Abbott graciously invited me to submit a book for her Friday Forgotten Books collection, I was excited and worried. You see, I’m putting myself through a sort of self-education in crime fiction, learning its history, and determining where my own fiction fits in. Thus, books that are forgotten by many readers are brand-new to me. You can peruse my reviews of other crime fiction here on my blog and get my take on what I've read so far. But today I begin with a western--a western mystery, that is--by an author I never heard of until I opened a box of books my grandfather owned.

When one thinks of westerns, three names immediately come to mind: Louis L’amour, Max Brand, and Zane Gray. At least that’s how I see it as a lifelong SF geek looking through the barbed wire fence at the pasture that is the western genre. My dad got the box of L’amour books. I got the box of everything else. And, amid all the Luke Shorts and Giles Lutz books--and a few Perry Masons, Cool and Lams, Ellery Queens, and Mary Rogers Rinehearts--I found about ten novels by William Colt MacDonald. Cool western writer name, to be sure. Among the MacDonald books were six books about Gregory Quist, a railroad detective for the Texas Northern and Arizona Southern Railroad Company. Shoot, I thought, how unique is that. If I’m going to read a western, might as well be one with a mystery involved.

Mascarada Pass (1954) is the earliest of the novels I have so I started with it. One of the words MacDonald uses to describe Quist’s features is his ‘aquiline nose.’ Any reader of Sherlock Holmes will know that the English detective has the same adjective used on him as the railroad detective. With a deft use of one word, MacDonald let us in on Quist’s secret weapon: his mind. But this is a western and you know Quist is handy with a six-shooter. And he has ample circumstances to demonstrate his prowess.

Quist is dispatched to the town of Masquerade City once the railroad company determines that the recent freight train derailment was “man-impelled.” He arrives only to discover that one of the more respected men in town, Reed Haldane, took his own life the very night of train crash. Quist’s reputation precedes him and two of Haldane’s hands--Ramon and Chris who constantly feud with each other for Quist’s attention--enlist the detective’s help in discovering the culprit who killed Haldane. They don’t think Haldane took his own life. They believe it was murder.

Like a good pulp story, the two seemingly unrelated story lines are connected but Quist has no evidence. And it is through the method Quist gathers his evidence that the true charm of the book shines. Unlike Sherlock Holmes who rarely doubts his own abilities, Quist constantly questions himself at places throughout the book, even going so far as to question his own assumptions. Quist sends Chris and Ramon on various errands, gathers their results and the evidence they’ve seen, and pieces it all together. He deals with the rival family Haldane crossed twenty years before. And, as in all good pulp stories whether western, crime, or SF, he has to deal with the alluring daughter of the recently deceased.

My research into William Colt MacDonald revealed that he only wrote westerns but Mascarada Pass would fit nicely into anyone’s mystery collection. He plants the clues for Quist to find and for the reader to digest. And, in good Nero Wolfe or Nick Charles fashion, Quist keeps the results to himself and gathers all concerned for the big reveal. I won’t spoil the ending here but, suffice it to say, I saw part of the ending coming. I guess that makes me as smart as Gregory Quist. But not nearly as fast with a gun as he is.

In my review of Allan Guthrie’s Kiss Her Good-bye, I make mention of casual violence. That is, violence that seems to erupt out of nowhere and is gone almost as fast. That is the kind of violence in Mascarada Pass. It’s swift and brutal, but not gory. Death happens in a matter of fact way. It’s a part of life in the old west.

MacDonald’s writing style is somewhat dated. The story is all third-person with only the first two chapters not featuring Quist. Once he steps on stage, MacDonald never leaves Quist’s POV. As was customary back in the 50s, MacDonald uses adverbs profusely (heh) whereas we modern writers strive for a near adverb-less style. Like a good Elmore Leonard character, Quist’s personality emerges through his dialogue, at times laconic and hard-edged. MacDonald also uses dialogue as shorthand for personality. Ramon Serrano, one of Quist’s helpers, is a Mexican-born character and his dialogue is written as if it were from a 1940s western movie, dialect intact. For example: “Eet was my idea--” Serrano cut in indignantly.” The same technique was applied to the town drunk: “What in. . hic! . . you care . . where I buy’em?” It was annoying at first but I got used to it. Different time, different style.

The one charming aspect of the book I really enjoyed was the chapter titles. Remember those old Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books with those fun chapter titles? Remember how, as you started a new chapter, you wondered what the cryptic chapter title really meant? That’s how it was with Mascarada Pass. I haven’t read a book like that in a long time.

Mascarada Pass was a fun book, especially as a first western for me. It checked off all the major things a western needs--gun fights, ambushes, dusty towns--and filled in the cracks with a solid mystery. Gregory Quist is a good character, complete with good brains, a little self-doubt, but fortitude enough to get the job done. It goes without saying that I’ll be reading the other Quist books in my collection. I recommend Gregory Quist as a character that needs to be remembered again. Go ahead and start with Mascarada Pass.

Longarm and the Border Wildcat

In the 229th adventure of Custis Long, U.S. Marshal, he acquires a partner in the most Longarm-ish way possible: a fight over a woman.

Just as the voluptuous red-headed Anne Marie is about to lead Longarm up some stairs to her boudoir, a bearded, beefy hombre questions the federal lawman about his intentions with "my girl." The brawl ensues and both men get in their licks under the man, Lazarus Coffin, produces his Texas Ranger badge. Longarm laughs and trumps the state badge with his federal one. It is only then they realize they are both in Del Rio, Texas, for the same reason: to provide security during a delicate negotiation between diplomats from America and Mexico.

This being an adult western, naturally there is yet another woman. She is Sonia Guiterrez, sultry daughter of the Mexican diplomat, Don Alfredo. She in openly wanton in her wants and desires and she teases just about every man in every scene in which she appears. Naturally, her father is unaware, but Coffin and Longarm aren't. Thus begins a rivalry between the two men to see who can bed the temptress. Guess who wins.

Another factor is at play in this story: a mysterious marauder, El Aguila. The local owlhoots who ride through the streets and shoot up the town are alleged to be members of his gang. That may be so, but if they are his men, the leader himself proves too elusive.

Longarm and Coffin chaff at the boredom of standing guard while the diplomats negotiate, but that lull is quickly dispatched when El Agulia's gang again rides into town. This time, however, they kidnap Sonia. When asked why she was out of her hotel room, Longarm doesn't answer that he and Sonia were having a rendezvous in an alley.

Naturally, the two lawmen must pursue the kidnappers and bring back the lovely Sonia. Along the way, they meet El Aguila himself, sling lead with the bandits, and uncover the truth behind the entire scheme.

As always, these Longarm westerns are fun, action-packed, and a joy to read. I especially enjoyed the interplay between the more cautious and reasoned Longarm and the brash Coffin. This one was written by James Reasoner.  I emailed him and asked if Coffin ever showed up again in a future Longarm novel he wrote. He said no, so this is your one and only time to meet the big Ranger.

Speaking of Ranger, I also got a smile on my face when Reasoner namedropped "Jim Hatfield" as one of the Texas Rangers Longarm wished had been sent to Del Rio. Hatfield was the lead character written by Bradford Scott in the old pulp magazine TEXAS RANGER. Speaking of old pulp characters, there's another one hidden in plain sight. Read this book and see if you can identify the character.

The Sun Rises West by Oscar J. Friend

Last week, I attended a small comic convention here in Houston that served as a throwback to the early days of comic book fandom. It was hosted in two rooms in a hotel. One room was devoted to toys; the other to comics. But, happily for me, the owner of Bedrock City Comics brought his pulp magazines.

I had been to his shop last month after I discovered Bradford Scott and his pulp hero, Texas Ranger Walt Slade, in paperback. After reading my first Slade novel, I wanted to read one of his old pulp exploits. I bought one issue of Thrilling Western and reviewed the Slade story. Naturally, I beelined to that section of the pulp magazines on sale last week, but I’m not here to talk about my next Slade story.

No, what I’m here to talk about is the odd mash-up of a western in a World War II setting.

The cover date for Thrilling Western volume 29, #1 is May 1942. I’m not sure how much lead time editor G. B. Farnum gave to writers, but Oscar J. Friend’s story was definitely written after December 7, 1941.

 “The Sun Rises West” features cowboy Chuck Hardin. He’s been hired to work a cattle ranch out on Hawaii. With just the description of Hardin, you know you’re in for a treat: other than battered suitcases and his typical cowboy attire (you know what I’m talking about), he brings his Winchester and two double-action .45 six-shooters. The other character comment on Hardin’s attire more than once.

There’s a girl here, but she doesn’t figure too much into the story other than the typical rivalry between Hardin and Montague Townley, the ranch’s manager. With a name like that, you also know what kind of man he is. Well, there’s also a native Hawaiian co-star in Hamelaki George who fills the role perfectly.

And you already know who the bad guys are just from reading the story’s title and sub-title: A Novelete [sic] of Texas Guns in Hawaii. Yup, the Japanese, specifically the houseboy Mikimatu. The old pulps were filled with descriptions and terms we in the 21st Century cringe at, and that’s all there. But Friend piles it on. After being introduced to Mikimatu, cowboy Hardin never pronounces his name correctly for the rest of the story, instead using terms like “Mikiblotto.” The physical
descriptions are worse. But that was a different time, and when Friend wrote the story and the readers consumed this story six months after Pearl Harbor, I don’t suspect many minded.

Speaking of Pearl Harbor, it doesn’t take a genius to know that’s when this story takes place. The day is lost for America, but Hardin, naturally, wins the day at the Robinson Ranch.

The story is good and about what you’d expect. Not much to write home about, but it’s a fantastic snapshot at a particular time and place.

Western Words

I live and write in 2016, the 21st Century, and there isn’t any real way to know how folks talked in the Old West. The only way to discover what words people used in conversation is to read then-contemporary documents and glean what I can and put it in my stories.

There is, however, another way: western novels and stories. From the earliest days, authors sometimes had the opportunity to interview real old west cowboys. Or these future authors—I’m thinking of Edgar Rice Burroughs or Lester Dent—they actually grew up around some of these cowboys. No matter how the early 20th Century authors got their data, they put what they learned or knew into their stories.

Over the years and decades of western writing, a vocabulary of how writers described things emerged. A more or less common way to make these cowboy heroes, villains, and lovely ladies speak also emerged. Ever since the first western I read, I quickly realized that western writers simply had their own unique vocabulary.

So I started reading westerns with a pencil in hand.

Every time I came across some new term, I’d circle the word. Every new-to-me western I read, I repeated this practice. It’s second nature to me now. Even the Longarm novel I picked up in Austin last weekend—Longarm and the Bank Robber’s Daughter—has multiple new words for me. Even when I read stories on my Kindle, I highlight words and phrases and collect them when I'm done.

Now, I have an ever-growing “database” of words I can use to sprinkle into my Triple Action Western stories and give them more authenticity and help the reader—and me—become immersed into the world of the Old West.