72 Books Like 1960s Austin Gangsters

As an ex-pat Oklahoma who writes crime fiction, I’ve long been enamored of my homeboy, the great noir-ist Jim Thomson, whose best novel this is. Like most of Thompson’s work, this is set in Texas, not Oklahoma, but as in all my choices, the world he evokes is indistinguishable, the one from the other.

Lou Ford, the main character, is the kind of guy who makes you want to sleep with both eyes open. A psychotic, small-town Deputy Sheriff, Ford openly mocks the idea of justice; he is a purely malign force, a glad-handing menace who rules his petty fiefdom with the wisdom of Josef Goebbels and the kind-heartedness of Charles Manson. Ford’s first-person narration reads like it’s been scrawled in Magic Marker on the walls of a men’s room in hell. No one did nihilism better than Jim Thomson.

The first in Locke’s Highway 59 series, featuring African American Texas ranger Darren Matthews involving two bodies one black, one white that wash up in a small East Texas town.

The story combines procedural, western, and Southern gothic to give an entertaining, human, yet unflinching look at race both past and present. This book enlightened me on how much African Americans contribute to what we call Texas culture.

Crumley used his PI Milo Milodragovich to look at the state “with more guns than cows” in all its colorful insanity.

The search for a runaway pool shark wife puts Milo in the middle of plot involving firearms, drugs, and crimes in various forms as Crumley draws from two of his favorite writers, Raymond Chandler and Warren Zevon.

I got to know Jim near the end of his life and see his broad, loving, cynical personality, and the feelings of his birth state when I read this.

My favorite book from Texas’ greatest living writer.

I’ve been lucky enough to go from fan to friend of Joe’s and realized a lot of the experiences of his youth ended up in this novel of a young boy in 1958 who discovers a box of love letters that unravel the mystery of a murder that happened decades ago in his small town, but some folks still want silent.

Lansdale captures a time of drive-in movies, early civil rights, and gearing up for times of change. Part Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, King’s The Body (a.k.a. Stand By Me), and all Lansdale.

The China Bayles series by Susan Wittig-Albert introduced me to characters who are brave without being superpowered.

China Bayles is a female protagonist who is strong-willed and intelligent. The stories about her never emphasize her looks other than describing things that would be overlooked on television.

She’s left her job as a Texas attorney and runs an herb shop (it expands in later books). She’s more likely to have dirt under her nails and sneakers on her feet rather than a fresh mani-pedi with stilettos for superhero-style espionage.

China is surrounded by a tight group of loved ones. These are characters that go through troubles. They support each other. The series gives middle-aged people something to embrace when typical pop culture never lets anyone age.

After reading some China Bayles stories, I noticed myself doing new things like planting small porch pots of pansies and herbs. With small steps come… show more.

The Time It Never Rained tells the grim battle between ranchers and drought in 1950s western Texas.

I grew up on a small Minnesota farm and remember my father’s struggle to keep the farm going, but at least he never faced a seven-year drought. A stubborn rancher who reminded me of my father, refuses to give in or ask for help.

I especially liked the secondary story of illegal immigrants, attitudes of ranchers toward the Feds tasked with arresting and deporting them, and the government programs that backfired in the end. It’s an excellent read that left me thankful for every drop of rain and blade of green grass. Its lessons of racism and kindness are pertinent to today’s world.

You didn’t think I could make this list without including the queen of fat-positive YA, did you? Puddin’ is my absolute favorite Julie Murphy book, and it’s down to how much I adore the main character, Millie Michalchuk. She’s unapologetically dorky and genuine with her kitty sweatshirts and news anchor aspirations, and she reminds me very much of Teen Me.

Her story touches on fat trauma (a diet culture mom, a history at fat camps) but focuses on fat joy, which hit home because girl, same. And her friendship with POV-sharing Callie Reyes is a delight. This is the one I come back to when I need a hug in book shape.

Shames’s fiction should be better known.

This book wasn’t what I expected, given its set-up in a small west Texas town filled with testosterone-laced popular imagery of today—a fundamentalist cult smelling of illicit sex, anti-feminism, and gun show economics; bored adults insanely consumed by high-school football rivalries; a chain-rattling motorcycle crowd; and far too many sour, flag-waving vets.

Take your pick about important themes to follow in this well-crafted cozy featuring Sam Craddock. Sam is asked to stand in as policeman while the one local cop dries out. He’s cranky, flawed but likable, persistent, competent.

The puzzle mysteries are tricky enough to be interesting, no overwhelming thriller-type fight scenes or chases. I thoroughly enjoyed this surprisingly gentle read. 

The action is set in the fictional east Texas town of New Long Lincoln, where Daniel Russell returns after a long absence. He was 13 when his father tried to kill them both by driving his car into Moon Lake. Now a drought has caused the lake to evaporate and the car’s been found, with the remains of Daniel’s father inside, as well as an extra body in the trunk. Daniel teams up with a childhood friend who’s become a police officer to untangle a web of old grudges and strange murders.

Drowned towns – ones that are deliberately submerged in order to build dams and reservoirs – fascinate me. There’s one in Sussex County, New Jersey, called Walpack. It was intended to be buried under a man-made lake in the nineteen-seventies, as part of a project to build a dam across the Delaware River. It was a cause célèbre… show more.

The great landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted was a journalist before he found his true calling - he designed New York’s Central Park, Roland Park in Baltimore, and many other green spaces across the U.S. Olmsted toured East Texas in the early 1850s as a correspondent for the New York Daily Times. An ardent abolitionist, he reported on the cruelty of slavery, which he found permeated the society. The white slaveholders lived in almost constant dread of their insurrection and escape, which were constant. Occasionally, the slaves themselves had dogs who would engage the hounds used by slave owners and overseers to track and capture the runaways. Olmsted used the nom de plume Yoeman and he compiled his reports and journals into a trilogy that looks at the institution of slavery in its last decade.  His companion for much of his journey was a bull terrier named Judy, a… show more.