Saddle Up and Move ‘Em Out; or Hello Again, My Gauchos

Whoa, buckos and buckorettes, a year? My, time flies when you’re working and developing projects that don’t, on the surface, seem to connect to westerns. But as we all know, everything that is anything actually connects–

Josey Wales: Are you gonna pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?

Right. Got it. STFU and write.

To paraphrase another Clint, Blondie in The . . . → Read More: Saddle Up and Move ‘Em Out; or Hello Again, My Gauchos

Unforgiven; or, I’ll Never Forgive the Blood-Soaked Retribution Blah, Blah, Blah Bits

Don’t get me wrong. I would recommend Clint Westwood’s Unforgiven (1992), even if it was just because people who don’t like westerns say they like this western. To them, I’m like, um, this is a total western, so I don’t get what you’re saying, but whatever–it kicked the genre in its dusty ass at a time . . . → Read More: Unforgiven; or, I’ll Never Forgive the Blood-Soaked Retribution Blah, Blah, Blah Bits

The Animal Hero’s Journey into Serial Darkness; or, Not Another Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Western!?

Just when you thought it was safe to go blog surfing, one more Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Western! Nooooo!

Actually, it’s not too bad. In this flick, Rex and Rinty far outshine the human actors and the ridiculonkulousness of the script. Like their man’s-best-friend comrades in the real world, Rex and Rinty prove themselves to be . . . → Read More: The Animal Hero’s Journey into Serial Darkness; or, Not Another Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Western!?

The Man from Laramie; or, The One-Two Punch of 1950s America

Ah, the beauty of pulpish western cover art, filled to the brim with all the perfect 1950s western cover clichés, combined and intertwined in a perfect union of cinematic, pulp western majesty.

Can life get any better?

You might recognize the title, perhaps? Anthony Mann’s films with James Stewart, such as The Man from Laramie (1955) are . . . → Read More: The Man from Laramie; or, The One-Two Punch of 1950s America

Like a Mighty Cannonball; or, Can’t Stay Away from the Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Westerns

This Thanksgiving, in between shots of rotgut rye, I gave thanks to all the gods and goddesses of the western world that Flapjack42 has the epic psychic strength to haul the universe into righteousness with the continuing countdown of the top-ten list of the absolute worst animal-as-hero westerns EVER.

Confused by life? Don’t be. Be confused . . . → Read More: Like a Mighty Cannonball; or, Can’t Stay Away from the Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Westerns

One’s All You Need; or, Shane’s Successful Showdown Advice

Control your arsenal at all times.

Just as real-life sharpshooters should be aware of the number of bullets (think of Dirty Harry’s classic line that foiled the Scorpio Killer: “I know what you’re thinking. ‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’”), a Silver-Screen Western Hero wannabe knows the quantity and quality of his or her . . . → Read More: One’s All You Need; or, Shane’s Successful Showdown Advice

Shoot Up the Town; or, The Establishing Six-Gun Shot

Cowboys have it good. Women swoon in close proximity to them. Gay men do, too. Boot fetishists want to lick their boot soles. Everything about them is beloved, from the ching of their spurs to their slang.

But the real-life historical cowboy wasn’t so lovable. He could be a roughneck, a gangbanger, a kind of ride-into-town-get-drunk . . . → Read More: Shoot Up the Town; or, The Establishing Six-Gun Shot

The Beauty of Bonanza; or, What to Do When You’ve Finished a Novel Draft

What do you do when you finish a draft of a novel? Holy hellion hoofbeats, bucko! You have to ask?

Sleep. Buy a bold bottle of vino (or whiskey or iced tea or whatever–just spare no expense). Look around your domicile and see the dust caking the surfaces and do nothing about it (yet). Listen to . . . → Read More: The Beauty of Bonanza; or, What to Do When You’ve Finished a Novel Draft

The Curse of the Return of; or, One More of the Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Westerns

The deadline hit my shoulder with the force of a bullet and the reins of the stagecoach dropped from my nerveless hands. The coach careened across the dusty road as its six horses, freed from my steady presence on the reins, bolted. The passengers–my beloved characters–shrieking, I tried in vain to pull the brake but nearly . . . → Read More: The Curse of the Return of; or, One More of the Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Westerns

The Good, the Bad and the Rinty; or, Another of the Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Westerns

The chasm yawns below me. My fingers ache from their grip on the rock; my feet kick wildly for purchase, nothing between them and novel-revision and work deadlines except dead air–and too few hours.

I feel my fingers giving and I regret the many hours I spent on Twitter rather than doing finger exercises, and I . . . → Read More: The Good, the Bad and the Rinty; or, Another of the Worst Silver-Screen Animal Hero Westerns