Books like Weird Westerns

Orphaned young, Ming Tsu is the son of Chinese immigrants but was raised by a ruthless gang of outlaws during the California Gold Rush. When, as an adult, his wife is kidnapped, Ming Tsu goes on a quest for revenge that pits him against some of the same men from his youth. And this is happening at the same time a bitter fury rages across the nation at the Chinese men brought into the US during westward expansion.

Lin's book is gritty and propulsive, and Ming Tsu is an ass-kicker on par with any cowboy John Wayne ever played. 

This short novel is heaps of fun! It’s another take on the Tombstone story, told from Doc Holliday’s point of view with great wry wit. This Doc is an engaging and unexpectedly kind character, with little or no hint of his reputed “mean disposition”. Weird elements include steampunk – with Thomas Edison living in Tombstone and bringing not only electric light but cyborg sex workers – as well as an undead Johnny Ringo, and supernatural justice wielded by the Native American shamans. It’s delightful!

This anthology “blends western grit with the magical and mysterious unknown that waits beyond the next horizon” and includes both a great range of stories and some delightful illustrations. “Abishag Mary” by Frances Rowat brings sea-based imagery deep into the landlocked deserts. “Frank and Earnest” by Tonia Brown features some cracking dialogue, not to mention a villain who seems entirely out of place and mostly baffles the two heroes. Other stories venture beyond the Old West, including "Fifteen Seconds" by Scott Hungerford featuring an alien invasion of a different kind in a more recent West. An excellent collection!

This rollicking set of whip-smart short stories through a supernatural Wild West is guaranteed to engage readers, with tales ranging from uncannily magical cards to steampunk bordellos to undead outlaws.

Delivering chaotic gunslinger fun from start to finish, Dead Man's Hand explores the intersecting worlds of the living and undead in many delightful and unforeseen ways. As a supernatural storyteller myself, I couldn't stop turning the pages to see what new fantastical creature or magical spell the authors would envision next.

It was my faithful companion through many late nights crafting my own novel, inspiring me with its spirited inventiveness of mysterious beings and magical mayhem. 

If you’re a fan of Deadwood or, going further back, the 1953 Doris Day movie, Calamity Jane, you will be fascinated by Jones’s book about the buckskin-wearing Martha Jane Canary, a.k.a. Calamity Jane. Details about her life are either sparse or exaggerated, so Jones tells us what the frontier legend has symbolized, both in her own time and in ours. Dressing like a man made her stand out and made her the object of both derision and decades of bad biographies. She still serves as a symbol of the way that women could defy expectations in the West, and Jones’s book gives us a Calamity Jane we can root for.

“Margaret Parker and Hattie LaCour never intended to turn outlaw,” but sometimes life just hands you a rough deal. Especially if you are a woman in the Wild West. This novel is an interesting journey of strong women choosing to take fate into their own hands. They don’t want to end up on their backs to make money, and decide they rather take the money they feel the world owes them. Heresy is a classical Wild West tale with a bit of a female twist. A good read for any lover of this genre.

Ellen Meloy just might be my favorite Utah writer. She’s smart and witty. She’s laugh-out-loud funny. She’s self-deprecatory and never preachy. She gets her natural history right. And her writing is gorgeous. She died far too young, at 58, in 2004, and I miss her. As she wanders outward across Bears Ears National Monument from her home in Bluff, Ellen’s musings apply equally to the slickrock spine of the Waterpocket Fold in Capitol Reef. So I was determined to include her in my own book. I chose an excerpt from The Anthropology of Turquoise—a terrific piece on sensual canyon country wildflowers, “slickrotica.” In her book, Ellen follows turquoise to the ends of the earth, but she always brings us back to her home territory in the canyons. 

As a boy, I encountered Kit Carson via the Landmark Books, and I could not resist rediscovering him in juxtaposition with his friend but non-kindred spirit, John C. Frémont, who nearly became president in 1856. Although Roberts mercifully spares us from exposing Frémont’s Civil War blunders, his account of the disastrous 1848-49 expedition renders the “Pathfinder” in his grandiosity a less sympathetic figure than the laconic scout. As Roberts notes in his epilogue concerning the feats of his two flawed subjects, “pure heroes or villains do not exist outside the pages of bad literature.” He likens the evolution of Carson as “thoughtless killer of Apaches and Blackfeet” to “defender and champion of the Utes” to a similar reversal in the case of General George Crook.

Here, I veer off into nonfiction, but only because nobody would believe any novelist who conjured up the likes of the real-life people Betsy Gaines Quammen talks to in constructing this portrait of how things got so fraught out West.

In my view, it takes a writer of particular skill and empathy to honestly get at the thoughts and motivations of folks with whom she likely disagrees on fundamental questions. Further, it takes a writer of inherent fairness to call balls and strikes on all sides of contentious issues. Quammen, for my money, is such a writer.

I had never heard of Rinker Buck—nor of C-Span Book TV, for that matter—when one day, flipping through channels, I landed on him giving a talk about his then-new book, The Oregon Trail. I was smitten. As soon as his talk ended, I rushed to my local library to check out a copy.

Part travelogue, part memoir, part history lesson, The Oregon Trail had me mesmerized from the first page. “Exceptional” is not too strong a word to describe Buck’s skill as a writer and his extraordinary 2000-mile journey in a real covered wagon pulled by mules, tracing the pioneers’ arduous trek.

His insights, humor, and a personality that “doesn’t suffer fools gladly” provide a true understanding of the difficulty such a journey posed 150 years ago.