73 Books Like 6000 Miles of Fence

This is the go-to book to learn about the Klondike Gold Rush. Tappan Adney was a journalist sent by a magazine to chronicle what was going on, and he did a good job. In 1897, he took a steamship to Skagway, then made the long trek into Canada over Chilkoot Pass, to Dawson, and on to the Klondike River. Because Adney was a trained newswriter, it doesn’t have quite the warmth of a personal diary, but there’s all kinds of good stuff. Especially, detailed descriptions of the hard journey on foot, daily disillusionment of the average stampeder, descriptions of gold mining techniques, Yukon era saloons, claim jump squabbles, and the common struggle for a decent meal, when supplies have run low.

Bob Fudge worked for the famous XIT, a large cattle outfit based in the Texas Panhandle, during the late 1800s and early 1900s. Bob Fudge lived an iconic cowboy life, driving cattle from Texas to Montana. He told his life story in 1932, a year before his death. I first heard about this rare book during a song intro, by western singer Ian Tyson on his Live At Longview album. Before he plays the song “Bob Fudge,” Tyson tells a story of how someone left this book on his guitar case during an earlier performance—and it captivated him. The book captivated me, too, and served as inspiration for my own western novels. Another Canadian western singer, Colter Wall, recorded a live cover version (watch it on YouTube) that is quite cool.

A Hopi Indian named Don Talayesva was born in 1890 in the northeastern desert of Arizona. This is his personal life journey on the Sun Trail. I’ve never read anything quite like this. Every sentence immerses you into his mind’s eye, and you’ll see life through the lens of the Hopi worldview. Legends and myths run through every experience–yet everything feels real. The Spider Woman, Guardian Spirit, Katcina dancers, Six-Point-Cloud-People, Masau’u the bloody-headed Fire Spirit who wanders the mesa at night, and the secret society of Two-Hearts, who cast spells to take lives, to prolong their own. Don’s personal joys, opinions, and flaws are all part of the mix. In my own novel, I created a Hopi character with a vivid inner dialogue, thanks to Sun Chief.

I’ve been to the Tomboy Mine. All that’s left of the camp are old foundations in a rocky basin above timberline, surrounded by high peaks, 3,000 feet above Telluride. The only gold left behind is in the rich hues of a Colorado sunset. While the Tomboy may be gone, it’s the same view Harriet Fish Backus saw every day. Life at a remote mountain mine was full of “mishaps and makeshifts,” and she kept a diary of daily events. Nothing she writes is a dull description, nor is it the soaring purple prose of Victorian-era romanticism. Her account of mining life in 1906, from a woman’s perspective, detailing daily routines, friendships, and fears, is invaluable as a western author, to create believable female characters in the Old West.

Cattle drives although a relatively brief episode in history largely contribute to tales of the cowboy that helped writers and Hollywood to later make him an American icon. Texas Women on the Cattle Trails provides a history of sixteen of the women who contributed to and participated in cattle drives originating from Texas. This edited collection offers individual stories of these women and based on their own accounts which give us an inside glimpse into how this era shaped their lives. Meet real cattlewomen who built ranching empires, who showed courage and spunk, and enjoyed a closeness with nature while viewing buffalo and gazing at the stars along their journeys.

Louise S. O'Connor, a fifth-generation descendant of an early settler of Texas has always loved the stories of the "old timers,” the cowboys and hands who worked the ranch where she grew up. O’Connor spent seventeen years collecting oral histories about ranch life on the Coastal Bend and compiled those stories into Cryin' for Daylight. Though published in 1989, the language of O’Connor’s isolated, rural, mostly elderly subjects rings with 19th Century authenticity.

I treasure O’Connor’s labor of love for its emphasis on the tragically neglected black cowboys. One such cowboy supplied the title by swearing, “We loved to work cattle so much, we’d just be sittin’ around cryin’ for daylight to come.”

Remember that song from Disney's Mulan – "I'll Make a Man Out of You"? Move that to the wild west with an English lady named Sydney disguised as a boy and a ranch owner determined to turn his partner's British fop of a "nephew" into a cowhand worth his salt, and you've got a good idea of the crazy antics awaiting you in Fancy Pants. With a strong supporting cast of characters and a giggle-inducing plot, this book is sure to leave you grinning.

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.

Who doesn’t love a cowboy, a marriage arranged by two loving fathers, and two souls who have lost something precious?

Cowboy novels are downright delicious and Linda Broday has a knack for making you fall for tough but sensitive cowboys who passionately protect those they love. Lara and Houston meet for the first time on their wedding day. When Houston lifts the wedding veil, he finds a woman with beautiful green eyes, an ugly scar marring her cheek but a defiant glean in her hope-filled eyes.

Houston decides he will protect this woman and will avenge those who hurt her if it’s the last thing he does. I’ve loved cowboy novels for years and will devour Linda Broday’s novels as soon as they are released.

Lawman was my introduction to the novels of Diana Palmer, which have become my go-to for contemporary romance. Perhaps I found Lawman compelling because the heroine's history of trauma stirred some memories of my own. The taut thriller quality of the tale certainly kept me reading, as well. And a happy ending is a must, even if I want to slap a stubborn hero upside the head from time to time. (Well, yes, the heroine sometimes needs an attitude check, too.)