Wildfire

As I watch the pictures continue to come in from the devastating wildfire in Yosemite, and consider the plight of the brave souls trying to bring it under control, I’m reminded that Nature has always had its way.

1871 was a hellova fall for fires. The best known, the Great Chicago Fire, started on October 8^th, burning for three days. Although the story of a cow kicking over a lamp in a barn turned out to be fiction, the wind the fire produced to feed itself was fact. Over 300 died and 100,000 were made homeless, yet this was nothing to what was going on elsewhere.

Wisconsin, like other states in the region, had been suffering an outbreak of wildfires due to the extended dry conditions. Near Peshtigo one took lethal hold to become a firestorm. Of the town’s 1,749 residents, more than 350 were later buried in a mass grave “primarily because so many had died that no one remained alive who could identify them”. Twelve communities were destroyed, leaving well over 1,200 people dead or missing.

Coincidence can be disconcerting. The same day the cities of Holland and Manistee in Michigan, and Port Huron, all fell to the same fate, adding another 200 deaths. Four days later Windsor, Ontario, joined the list.

Today we talk of $billion devastation. Considering our crowded communities, perhaps we should be grateful the figure is merely dollars and not death toll.

Looking at Outlaws

The derring-do - or mostly just the goddamn awfulness - of folks history has labelled Outlaws, has always been a large part of the Western writer's research. From snippets of their sorry lives come the secondary research as to the why and the how that makes up the motivation driving a wholly imagined character.

So I was pleased to come across, by accident as often these things happen, the blog of The American Cowboy and his post which lists a whole host of lesser known varmints.

And no sooner do I turn around than I find that Tom Rizzo has a post about the exploits, or lack of them, of the Jennings Gang.

Do check them out. Both well worth the read.

Review: The Devil's Work by Paul Bedford

Being an ex Black Horse Western writer, I tend to keep an occasional eye on this UK imprint (publisher Robert Hale), the last of a dying breed, and recently an old name surfaced - Paul Bedford.

One of his first novels - a true historical rather than Western genre - was passed on to me some time ago, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. A Most Dark and Bloody Land by his alternative author name Paul Ayton, is set in 1844 with a young British Army Officer, Thomas Collins, being sent out from Her Majesty's government to the fledgling Republic of Texas. He's to negotiate terms with President Samuel Houston for the British Empire's procurement of cotton. Sound far-fetched? Not a bit of it, as Paul Ayton emphasises in the book's Historical Note.

For some reason Paul eschews a digital footprint of his own, but the cover, and that of two sequels A Most Deadly Foe and A Most Damnable Campaign, can be found via the site of Western re-enactment group The Searchers.

So when I heard that he'd had a Western genre novel accepted by Robert Hale, I called in to my local library and asked if they'd consider purchasing it. The Black Horse Westerns have always, as far as I am aware, been destined for the library market, and I saw no reason why others shouldn't enjoy good writing in a genre mostly ignored. 

As can be seen, Robert Hale doesn't believe in going overboard with its covers, but don't let that detract from a good read. 

When town marshal Rance Toller is called to a gun-toting drunk in the town's worst saloon, he notices a stranger biding his time in the warmth. Experience tells Toller that the quiet man poses the bigger threat. Not so. Greed, lies and betrayal pose the biggest threat of all and, while away in the snow helping the widow of a murdered homesteader, the town of Devil's Lake decides what's in its best interest might not include Rance Toller.

It's a cracking read in the classic style of Western that the imprint maintains. Go order it at your local library and spread the experience. As ever, more information can be found on Amazon.

Riding the Rails and the Range

After last week's desperate measures, this week has proven to be somewhat of a golden gateway for UK terrestrial television. Series 1 of  Hell on Wheels is crossing our screens with a good head of steam.

I was in New Mexico when I first caught episodes of this tale of building a railway across the continent after the Civil War: revenge, racism, intimidation, mysogeny, graft... the story of everyday folk, all carrying a lot of emotional baggage. It'll be interesting to see if the multiple storylines rise above their basic descriptions.

John Ford's The Searchers certainly managed to, and still does nearly 60 years after it was made (1956), despite this week's TV guide's crass description of John Wayne's character as being in a "relentless search for his young niece". Watch the movie, mate. It didn't gather its 5 stars merely for the spectacular filming in Monument Valley. And while you're at it, read the book by Alan le May. A riveting use of colloquial speech.

The Searchers was, in fact, my first view of Monument Valley in both photograph and on screen. It made a great impression, so much so that when my young eyes laid sight on a map of the Southwest I traced not only its features but its names: Painted Desert, Mexican Hat, Vermilion Cliffs, Gila Wilderness, Grand Canyon. The surprise is that it took me so long to visit them.

Feeding the Horses

Yes, I know. It’s been a long while since I fed these horses. This is what happens when my other writing persona starts flapping like a buzzard with a broken wing and takes up all of my available time. Then life shoulders in and before I know it I find myself laid up and in need of a bit of Old West to watch.

Shoot, Cowboys and Aliens doesn’t quite hit the mark, does it, but what can I say? It was on offer. My partner on the couch took delight in combing the internet to list all the historical inaccuracies and continuity issues I’d missed. Some kin are just supportive that way. However, what did catch my eye was the scenery, hence the reason for this blogpost.

Parts of the movie were filmed around the Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, New Mexico, where the mesas can’t decide whether they want to turn into badlands or into a northern outpost of the Painted Desert. We journeyed through the area a few summers back, drinking in the colours of the country and the huge skies.

It was here that Georgia O’Keefe travelled from 1929 onwards and made her  permanent home after WW2, to concentrate on her art and in so doing raised international awareness of the beauty inherent in the New Mexico landscapes.

Unlike Western artists Charles M Russell and Frederic Remington, born in the same decade – the 1880s – Georgia O’Keefe was an artist very much in the modernist style. She lived to be nearly 100 years old and moved to Santa Fe during her latter years where there is now the Georgia O’Keefe Museum dedicated to her work.

So, y'see, good can come from somewhat suspect Old West DVDs. Have you ever watched some for the scenery?

Merry Christmas

Let the snow be high, or the wind fierce, if you have logs for the fire and food on the table welcome the coming day with an open heart and friendly smile, and be grateful for the blessings you and yours enjoy.

If not... it's never too late to make a difference.

Don't we all want one - a Western Town?

If we had the money, the time, the energy, the enterprise, wouldn't we all want to build ourselves a fully operational Western town?

Billionaire Bill Koch is doing just that on his land in Colorado, it seems partly to house his collection of Western artefacts, and partly as a playground for family and friends. The Denver Post is showing a picture.

The story is carried by a number of other online sites - do your own search - and some of the comments make interesting reading, leaning heavily towards dictating what a man, this man, any man, should do with his money. Perhaps Bill just looked to his brothers, David and Charles, also billionaires, who spend lavishly on what might be called politics.

Where's the fun in that? I'm with Bill.