Deadwood: The Movie

Even the film poster celebrates the F-word

(Spoiler alert: if you're a Deadwood fan, you won’t like what follows.)

I watched Deadwood: The Movie last evening. A little late to the game, but it's difficult to watch this western with teenage girls in the house. Actually, the three thirteen-year-olds have only lived with us a week and the HBO Film has been available for over six weeks. In truth, I wasn’t keen to see it. After three separate attempts, I never finished the series … and I write Westerns for a living. What’s wrong with me?

I loved the television show until Wild Bill Hickok died, then I no longer cared about any of the characters. Deadwood didn’t draw me back because the story wasn’t compelling. Same for the HBO Film. The movie tied up every loose end, and every actor got to invoke their character’s iconic pose, but the main storyline could easily have been captured within a single episode. The rest felt like fill and forced nostalgia.

The problem with Deadwood is the overuse of visual and dialogue gimmicks to project an artful image. The ploys get old after a few episodes. The harsh profanity mixed with stylized formal speech reminded me of Betty White using the F-word; funny at first, tiresome with repetition. The cardinal rule of storytelling is to never take the reader/viewer out of the story, and the odd dialogue did just that.

Many believe the stilted speech—punctuated with swearwords—made the show unique and artsy. Executive Producer David Milch insists that the vulgar, Elizabethan-like dialogue is based on historical research. To steal a word from the era: poppycock. No characters talked this way in any of the stories by Mark Twain, Louisa May Alcott, or Owen Wister, who were all there. In that age of propriety, they would have omitted profanity, but I doubt Wild West speech would make rap singers sound virginal. In case you think I'm a prude, I occasionally use harsh profanity in my novels, but sparingly, so the impact is not diluted by repetition.

The Deadwood dialogue reminds me of James Fenimore Cooper’s attempt to invoke an earlier age with excessively formal language. Cooper wrote historical novels that occurred about a hundred years in the past. Mark Twain, my favorite Western author, didn’t like Cooper’s writing. Wait, that was far too mild of a sentence. In his article “Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses,” Twain ridicules, lacerates, and skewers Cooper.

I may be mistaken, but it does seem to me that "Deerslayer" is not a work of art in any sense; it does seem to me that it is destitute of every detail that goes to the making of a work of art; in truth, it seems to me that "Deerslayer" is just simply a literary delirium tremens. A work of art? It has no invention; it has no order, system, sequence, or result; it has no lifelikeness, no thrill, no stir, no seeming of reality; its characters are confusedly drawn, and by their acts and words they prove that they are not the sort of people the author claims that they are; its humor is pathetic; its pathos is funny; its conversations are -- oh! Indescribable;  its love-scenes odious; its English a crime against the language.

Counting these out, what is left is Art. I think we must all admit that.

Twain wrote about dialogue in another section:

When the personages of a tale deal in conversation, the talk shall sound like human talk, and be talk such as human beings would be likely to talk in the given circumstances, and have a discoverable meaning, also a discoverable purpose, and a show of relevancy, and remain in the neighborhood of the subject at hand, and be interesting to the reader, and help out the tale, and stop when the people cannot think of anything more to say. But this requirement has been ignored from the beginning of the "Deerslayer" tale to the end of it.

Even the style of this article is meant to mock formalistic writing.

In summary, the starchy speech demanded attention but didn’t enhance the storytelling. I found the volume and volume of profanity off-putting and wearisome. The nostalgic scenes didn’t work for me because I hadn’t missed the characters. Excluding that, what is left is pretty good. I think we all must admit that.

You might also like: Mark Twain Tells Us How to Write

Crazy Rich Asians Tells an Old Story Anew

Last night we rented Crazy Rich Asians based on the book by Kevin Kwan. I had heard a lot of good things about the film, but I was disappointed. I had seen the story before. 

Then I remembered an old Kurt Vonnegut lecture on the shape of stories. I had posted the short video a few years prior and followed his advice in Crossing the Animas. Evidently, I was not the only one. Kwan adapted one of his story lines and transferred it to Singapore. Vonnegut said writers were free to use his model and claimed that any who did would make a million dollars. Kwan cashed in. Me, not so much. However, if you liked Crazy Rich Asians, take a gander at Crossing the Animas. (Soon available in audio in a fine reading by Paul Manelis.)

Watch Vonnegut's talk. It's funny as hell, yet still packed with good advice for storytellers.

Godless—A Review

A character and dialogue driven western, Godless presents a traditional plot with some fresh twists, served up with an appropriate balance of action. (Godless is a Netflix original mini-series.) A good script, excellent acting, appealing filmography, and a focus on storytelling makes Godless an excellent addition to the Western film genre.

Here's a good review at Columbus Underground

Talk is not cheap!

“People don't talk like this, theytalklikethis. Syllables, words, sentences run together like a watercolor left in the rain. “ Bill Bryson, The Mother Tongue: English and How It Got That Way

“If writers wrote as carelessly as some people talk, then adhasdh asdglaseuyt[bn[ pasdlgkhasdfasdf.” Lemony Snicket, Horseradish

When I was at the Tucson Festival of Books, I was asked how I learned to write dialogue. Although I had no intention of ever writing a movie script, I studied several books on screenwriting. Screenplays focus on dialogue with only sketchy descriptions of place. The spoken word is crucial for all movies that don’t spray spent casings all over the landscape or use explosive fireballs to punctuate scenes. So, if you want to improve your dialogue skills, study screenplays.

Dialogue exists in novels to move the plot forward or to reveal character, or both. There is no place for small talk in a novel. Every word that’s inside quotes—or outside, for that matter—must have a purpose. Dialogue is engineered by the author. It is not natural, but must sound natural. Authenticity comes from providing clues so the reader can fill in the blanks. For example, a hint of an accent is all that is needed for readers to hear a character speak a dialect.

Richard Ford wrote in The Lay of the Land, “You rarely miss anything by cutting most people off after two sentences.” This is perfect advice for your characters. Dialogue should be taut and tense. Off the top of my head, here are a few other thoughts on dialogue:

• Dialogue is not the place for exposition.
• Soliloquies are out of style.
• Characters should not tell each other what they both already know.
• Heavy accents and odd speech patterns take the reader out of the story—a mortal sin.
• Different characters should speak differently.
• Personality is revealed in how your characters speak and what they say.

These are not rules, but guidelines. Each one will be broken brilliantly by writers who know exactly what they are doing. I can’t wait to read their work.

Sam Elliott, A Favorite

Sam Elliott is one of my favorite actors. Although he has done outstanding work in Western films, I first became a fan after watching the 1976 Lifeguard. Elliott had the lead role in this coming-of-age film. He dominated the screen, but I really liked his character because I identified with his beach bum mindset.

I grew up in what is called the South Bay area of metropolitan Los Angeles. The South Bay was an odd collection of beach cities south of the upscale Malibu and Santa Monica. It was a perfect time to grow up in a perfect place. Surfing, friends, bikini-clad girls, and a little school on the side. I spent more time at the Second Street street-end in Hermosa Beach than I did at school ... sometimes at my principle’s invitation.

Lifeguard was filmed in the South Bay, so I had an immediate connection. Elliott plays a lifeguard who is constantly harangued about getting a real job. It is a nicely crafted script, and great performances by Sam Elliott, Anne Archer, and Kathleen Quinlan lifted a low-budget film above the commonplace. This was shrewd casting, since they all went on to become stars.

What brought all this to mind was an interview with Sam Elliott at A.V. Club. The interview is comprehensive, with film clips, lots of Hollywood insider stuff, and it ranges all over his remarkable career, including his Westerns. (Warning: It’s also sprinkled with F-bombs.) 

I had forgotten about Lifeguard until he mentioned the film, and the reference brought up a host of pleasant memories. It also reminded me that I once owned a tee-shirt that read, “There is no life east of Pacific Coast Highway.”

If you have never seen the film, pick it up and take a gander at a unique moment in time when Southern California beaches were uncrowded and life was truly simple. It’s also a great story.

Six Makes Magic

My wife and I just finished a perfect vacation in Southern California. Our daughter and son’s families have returned to their homes and everything is now calm and still. What a drag.

Right after Christmas, we flew to San Diego with our daughter’s family, and on New Year’s Eve, we all met up with my son’s family in Laguna Beach. Six grandchildren together. The cousins are between four and ten and they greeted each other with wild enthusiasm … an enthusiasm that never abated over the entire four days. Boy, I want that kind of energy again.

The warm and sunny weather made a perfect respite from the storms lashing our homes in New York and Nebraska. My daughter’s husband went on a Steve Dancy marathon, reading three of the four books in the series. He runs a demanding construction supply business and has difficulty finding time to read with three kids jumping all over him when he gets home. I was flattered he enjoyed the books, and glad he could relax with some of my best friends.

Honest westerns ... filled with dishonest characters.

I had a reading marathon of my own. I rediscovered a favorite author. I read two Stephen Hunter novels and started a third. It had been over a decade since I had read one of his books, and I had forgotten he was an exceptional storyteller and gifted writer. It’s rare nowadays for authors to keep doing top notch work once they have scaled the bestseller lists. When millions of dollars are at stake, deadlines become brutal. Stephen Hunter is an exception. His latest book, The Third Bullet is as well written as his first Bob Lee Swagger novel.

One of my great joys in life used to be reading novels. Since I started writing fiction, I have become so critical it interferes with the pleasure of reading. Instead of being emerged in the story, I keep seeing plot holes, meandering points-of-view, outright errors, sloppy research, and lazy writing. This is not the case with Stephen Hunter books. He writes with a no-nonsense style, moves his stories forward with a sure hand, and polishes the narrative to an impeccable shine. As a Pulitzer Prize winning movie critic, he was required to have a firm understanding of characterization, plot, and pacing. Oh yeah, he also had to know how to write good prose lickety-split.

So, while you wait for the next Steve Dancy Tale, try a Bob Lee Swagger tale. (You can start anywhere since Hunter does a good job of making each book self-contained.) 

Panel Speaker at the Tucson Festival of Books

I've been invited to be a panelist at the 2014 Tucson Festival of Books, which will be held March 15 and 16. The Festival will be held on the campus of the University of Arizona.

I'm honored because this is the largest book festival in the Southwest. At the moment, I'll be on four panels, but the agenda won't be finalized until the first of the year. If you are in the vicinity—or not—you should plan on attending. 120,000 people attended last year. It's a fun event and a great opportunity to meet and hear your favorite authors. You can see who has already committed by visiting the Tucson Festival of Books website.

I hope to see you there.

A great first sentence does not a page-turner make

Every novelist wants a memorable first sentence. There are innumerable lists of great and dreadful first sentences. (#95 at the great link is a hoot.) Writers seem to always struggle for the perfection—searching for uniqueness, and then honing each word until it demands attention.

Perhaps Charles Dickens started this obsession with the beginning of A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

(One of my favorites is my score-settling first sentence in The Shut Mouth Society, “Amos Cummings cursed his editor.”)

Despite first sentence mythology, the greatest first sentence in history will not make a page-turner. Readers often blow by the first sentence with nary a thought. The most important aspect of a genuine page-turner is chapter endings. The end of a chapter is the natural point to put aside a book, so to deprive readers of sleep, each chapter needs to end with a teaser. A cliff-hanger is not necessary; in fact, a string of these can be tiresome.  All that is necessary is a hint of mystery, discovery of a fact not disclosed to the reader, a character startled by a revelation, an imminent threat by an antagonist, or anything else that prompts the reader to flip the page to see where the story will go next.

Here are a few chapter endings from The Shopkeeper.

I glanced at the shop door, closed to the outside. “Unfortunately, the world has a way of intruding.”

I didn’t make excuses but looked at each man sequentially. Finally, Richard said, “Okay, we’ll tell you everything we know.”

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I could not win this battle by remaining indoors.

If you want to write a page-turner, focus on chapter endings. They should not be over the top. The idea is to entice, encourage, tempt, compel, or even bribe the reader to continue reading. If you need further examples, watch the early seasons of the television program 24. The writers were masters at bringing the viewer back for the next episode.

Hollywood at its Worst

Us Old Guys Don't Like Change

I rented Man of Steel last night. When I saw it in the theater, I was disappointed. Actually, more than disappointed. My first words to my wife were, “I hated that movie.” My wife felt differently, so I decided to give it a second chance. I still hate the film.

Man of Steel is a prime example of Hollywood’s penchant for CGI over storytelling. We don’t need characters, just eye-popping explosions with booming sound effects. I’m a fan of Amy Adams, but in this film she came across flat. And Perry White? What was that about? His role contributed nothing to the storyline. This darker Superman moves in the direction of an anti-hero, so perhaps that explains his complete lack of humor. The bad guys and gal were unmemorable, which is crucial to storytelling.

When director Zack Snyder met with his CGI geeks, I’ll bet the conversation went like this:

“We got some really terrific stuff,” the head-honcho geek says. “We put together thirty sequences of Superman and Zod crashing through buildings so you can pick the ones you like.” 

After watching the special effects, Snyder slaps the honcho guy on the back and says, “Nice work. We’ll use ‘em all.” 

“Okay, what about the fanciful creatures on Krypton? We’re over budget.” 

“Just slap something together. Maybe adjust some of that flying dragon stuff you used before. Just get something quick and cheap.”

The CGI was intended to appeal to the younger, hearing-impaired market, but some hacks also tried to wrench the plot around to appeal to women. One of the major themes of the saga is Lois Lane trying to discover the identity of Superman. But some Hollywood genius said women want romance, and they’re unwilling to wait for a sequel. Simple. We’ll discard that useless bit of tinsel and rewrite Lane as the strong champion and savior of Superman, and that way they can flirt from the gitgo.

I could be wrong, of course. Man of Steel may be a classic. A smart retooling of the saga for a modern worldwide audience. The movie did gross nearly $300 million in the United States alone. However, it cost somewhere around a quarter billion dollars. Even with foreign box office and home rentals, that does not qualify as a blockbuster.

I might be a curmudgeon, but I liked the original Superman better. I preferred the humor and light tone and creativity. The domestic gross was three times the budget, so they must have got something right.

What makes a good TV series?

Bonanza, 4th Longest Running Series

What makes a good television series? You probably already guessed that I would say writing. Some might say exceptional characters, but writers define those characters. In fact, the characters are usually defined prior to casting. Actors audition to fill predefined roles. Actors? Without a quality script, even great actors phone it in.

Television writing is a team contact sport. A series can employ over a dozen writers and everyone knows you can’t manage writers. They always want to do something creative and a television series promises continuity. Writers are egotistical. Writers are inflexible. Most writers are slow and disdain deadlines. Television writers want celebrities to mouth their words, not the words of the writer sitting next to them. A room full of writers magnify these flaws exponentially.

Simpson's Writing Room

So again, what makes a good television series?  Not writing per se, but skillful management of a writing team. This is a tough job. The lead writer needs to define hard boundaries, yet encourage craftsmanship and creativity within those boundaries. 

Do you want to see a small example on how this is done? Read Writing for Bonanza: Seven Rules From 1968. Rule #7 summarizes the rules nicely: "What we do want is Western action and Western adventure, concerning a worthy and dramatic problem for the Cartwrights, and strong opponents. We want human drama built around a specific locale and specific period in the country’s history; simple, basic stories as seen through the eyes of Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe Cartwright, and Candy.”

After reading this article, it’s obvious that a key element of managing writers is clarity. Firm rules, stated firmly. Then let them have at it. 

Something Fun!

I'm in New York City visiting my son and his family. Okay, my son is really on a business trip and I'm filling in for him at a father/daughter event. The event was last night and we had a great time cruising the Hudson River. My son will be back this evening, so we'll have the weekend to catch-up and watch his son play a double-header. Since I'll be busy with more important matters, here is something fun. I never would have guessed that this was the most popular line in film.

 

And now starring ...

Good books can make good movies. This is especially true if the script is true to the book. This doesn't mean a movie should doggedly follow a book. Film and novels are different mediums. They present stories through different senses, so there must be an adaptation from one media to another. Gifted scriptwriters know how to do this, as can be seen in Lonesome Dove. The reverse is seldom true. When novels are written to take advantage of a hit movie, they are invariably cinematic, not literary.

Click for hot properties!

On the other hand, can good movies be made about books? BookRiot has published a list of 17 movies starring books. There are some good films on this list, but they make me wonder. Do writers get tired of making heroes out of cops and detectives, Cowboys on horseback or in pickups, teenage vampire killers, or even people working in exceptionally boring crime labs? Do they decide, hey, what about us? We can be heroic … and besides, we control the keyboard.

Don’t know, but movies about books are much more interesting than movies about writing. I mean, how exciting is writer’s block? Does the actor type faster to pick up the pace of the story? The pen is mightier than the sword, but a typewriter makes an awkward weapon. Writers can be interesting characters, but outside the author’s mind, writing looks as dull as running a DNA test. Humm? Anyway, the better movies on this list focus on the writers and their books, not the act of creation.

By the way, where is Little Women on this list?

We can all learn from Shakespeare

Writer’s Digest did a piece titled, “10 Things Shakespeare Can Teach us About Writing Thrillers.” The ten tips actually help with any genre. Shakespeare was a great writer and a suburb storyteller. It’s the combination that makes him world renown nearly 400 years after his death. In his day, he was not a literary figure; he was the equivalent of a prime time screenwriter. Shakespeare wrote to fill theaters with paying audiences. (Somewhere around forty people depended on his plays for their livelihood.) 

Populist or Elitist?

One of my favorite writer quotes comes from Raymond Chandler; “It might reasonably be said that all art at some time and in some manner becomes mass entertainment, and that if it does not it dies and is forgotten.” 

Shakespeare is remembered because he aimed for mass entertainment. Shakespeare’s appeal to the general public is what makes these 10 writing tips powerful. All of them have to do with the storytelling side of his great talent. From an artistic standpoint, he was an unbelievably gifted wordsmith, but craft alone will not make a writer immortal. 

Nor, quite frankly, will storytelling divorced of good writing. Just ask Harold Robbins.

Related Posts

Shark Killing Cowboy Meets Shakespeare

Can the Bloody Benders Revive Western Film?

Bender General Store and Inn

In the early 1870s, the Bloody Benders were a family of serial killers on the Kansas prairie. The four members of the family could not be weirder. If they were a family. The only thing known for certain is that there were four of them and they killed over a dozen travelers that ate or stayed at their makeshift general store located along a popular trail to the West. One more thing is known, they escaped.

This is a fascinating story and now The Topeka Capital Journal reports that two Harvard graduates are making an independent film about this grotesque piece of Western lore. There may also be a Hollywood production about the Bloody Benders. I’m rooting for the indie film. 

When the resurgence occurs in Western film, it will come from solid storytelling. My money is on indie films because they can’t afford elaborate computer generated effects, so they have no choice but to concentrate on a great script. Western enthusiasts keep hoping that movies like Cowboys and Aliens or The Lone Ranger will rejuvenate the genre. Small films have a better chance.

Bender Knife

IMDB reports an estimated budget for Open Range of only $26 million, a pittance for a movie with two bankable stars. Dances with Wolves was only $19 million.  Quigley Down Under $20 million. And even the remake of 3:10 to Yuma was only $55 million. On the other hand, films with nine figure budgets have harmed the genre. Big losses sour Hollywood powers-that-be on Westerns and they’re too dumb to figure out they threw away their money on a lousy script because they believe CGI, fast cuts, and a pulsing soundtrack were the key to a blockbuster.

Good storytelling draws audiences into movie houses … and that’s the forte of low budget films. Since Hollywood is blockbuster obsessed, we’ll have to rely on indie films to have an enjoyable night at the movies with a box of hot, buttered popcorn.

Top 10 Western Books

 Reading Cowboy Statue, Azle, Texas

American Cowboy magazine has listed the top 10 Western Books, plus a few also-rans from the same authors. Many of these novels were made into classic films, which shows that good storytelling can be adapted to multiple mediums.

By the way, I searched through the list twice, but never found any of the Steve Dancy Tales. I'm sure this is an oversight that will be corrected in the next list. 

Actually, I believe they compiled a fine Top 10. I've read 8 of the 10 ... an omission I'll correct shortly.

Illustration by Zachary Pullen

Shark Killing Cowboy Meets Shakespeare

To me, soliloquies seem like cheating. They’re frequently a dull way of conveying a character’s thoughts to the audience. Besides, how can any author compete with Shakespeare at his own game?

Probably the most famous soliloquy occurs in Shakespeare’s Hamlet.  Take a gander at this. Musing has never been so much fun.

Fan Letters are cool

Carson McCullers to Henry Miller

I always like to get fan letters. Some writers write for themselves, but I write to be read, so a fan letter is a bit of confirmation that someone out there enjoys reading my books. Flavorwire recently posted ten fan letters from famous writers to other writers. I’ve gotten a few of those and even a phone call from a New York Times bestselling author. That certainly made my day … or I should say week. Nothing on the caliber of these Flavorwire letters, of course. 

Here is the link to the Flavorwire post on famous fan letters.

Louis L'Amour, The Read Deal

If your name was Louis L'Amour and you wrote about men tougher than nails, would you adopt a penname? Frederick Faust used Max Brand to publish his rough and tumble Westerns. Of course, that was partly because Faust was a Teutonic name, and the Great War had made Germans unpopular.

Saul David, editorial director of Bantam Books, told Donald Jackson a story he included in a Smithsonian Magazine article. "That was the heyday of the paperback Western. We had lost Luke Short, our Western Star, and I was in California looking for a new one. I got a call - the word was out that I was in town - and a voice said, 'This is Louis L'Amour, you've never heard of me but I want to see you right now.' He came up with an envelope, made a pitch and told me to read his samples. He said he was going to be the next great Western writer and we'd do well to take him on. I read it while he waited. It was Hondo, and it knocked me out. I signed him to a long-term contract on the spot … David's boss in New York had doubts about their new author's name - L'Amour on a paperback sounded like ‘a Western written in lipstick,’ he said - but no one had grit enough to ask him to change it, ‘I didn't want to get punched out,’ David explains.”

At the time David met L’Amour (1908-1988), he was nearly fifty. He had mellowed a bit in middle age, but could still throw a hefty punch. For almost his entire life he would spend over an hour each day lifting weights, skipping rope, and punching a bag.

It might seem that L’Amour started late in the writing field, but that would be incorrect for two reason. First, he wrote for the pulps before WWII. (He took an extended hiatus during his enlistment.)  After the war, he sold at least one story per week prior to the film Hondo. There is a legend that John Wayne made L’Amour’s career when he bought the theatrical rights to a short story that became Hondo. Wayne also endorsed of the later novel as the best Western he had ever read. The Duke certainly gave L’Amour a big boost, but L’Amour was making a decent living from writing prior to Hondo. He had already sold several novels to paperback publishers and had sold several other projects for movies and TV.

The second reason would be research. He spent his early years living the life he would later write about. During his upbringing in North Dakota, his father’s veterinary practice and his other relatives exposed him to ranching and genuine cowboys. As a youth, L’Amour traveled the world as an itinerate worker. He hoboed, skinned cattle, baled hay, worked in mines, saw mills and lumber yards, circled the globe as a merchant seaman, and boxed all over the globe for money. He went out of his way to meet lawmen and outlaws. He traveled everywhere, noticed everything, and read constantly. He bragged that from 1928 until 1942 he read three books a week. By the time he met David, his life experiences and pulp writing had thoroughly prepared him to be a novelist.

Louis L'Amour wrote over one hundred books, of which more than 30 have been made into movies. He was extremely prolific and once signed a thirty book contract with Bantam. His books have been translated into over fifteen languages. A few days before he passed away, L’Amour was notified that sales of his books had topped two million. Today, that number is well in excess of three million. None of his titles have ever been out of print.

He loved writing and storytelling. He said, "I can transport myself to another time and place and put myself there." 

Critics panned his dialogue and one-dimensional characters, but praised his pacing and historical accuracy. L'Amour dismissed their criticism. "If you write about a bygone period east of the Mississippi River, it's a historical novel. If it's west of the Mississippi it's a Western." He added, "I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks, I know it's literature and I know it will be read 100 years from now." 

Twenty-five years after his death, his prediction looks accurate.

Frederick Faust, aka Max Brand

Frederick Faust was one of the most prolific writers of all time, publishing nearly thirty million words in his lifetime. Faust had more pen names than Destry had bullets. (In the film, Destry Rides Again, based on the Faust character, James Stewart famously shoots his Colt seven times.) He wrote more than 500 novels and short stories—all with two fingers on a manual typewriter. In his day, Faust was one of the highest paid writers in the world. Late in his career, Warner Brothers paid him $3,000 a week and he made a fortune from radio, film, and television adaptions of his Dr. Kildare character. Despite writing poetry and fiction in every genre, it was Westerns that made Faust famous, albeit under the pseudonym Max Brand.

Although Faust had once worked on a ranch, he was not a true Westerner. He was born in Seattle in 1892 and grew to maturity in California. He attended the University of California at Berkeley for four years without graduating. He was enamored with the Greek and Latin classics his entire life and often incorporated ancient mythology into his stories. His real life’s ambition was to be a poet, and he wrote genre fiction in the afternoons so he could pursue his passion for poetry in the mornings.

Faust wrote his first Western as a magazine story in 1918. Faust’s editor had recently lost Zane Grey to a competitor because Grey’s Western stories had become so popular. This editor convinced Faust to try to fill his boots. Faust’s first Western novel, The Untamed (1919) was highly derivative of a 1910 Grey Western titled The Heritage of the Desert.

Grey and Faust were different writers. Grey was enthralled with the landscape and expansiveness of the West, while Faust preferred to explore internal conflicts. Grey brought setting almost to life as a character, while Faust had a knack for describing animals in a way that made them vital characters in his stories. Faust preferred pursuit plots, delayed revelation, and his fiction was character driven. Faust was a more literary writer, especially when he put his mind to it.  Jon Tuska, a literary critic/agent, wrote: “The Biblical overtones that run throughout Faust’s Western fiction are as striking and unique as his imagery from classical literature. Indeed, Zane Grey’s avowed pantheism is wan beside the vivid evocation of the presence of God in Faust’s fiction, whether as the Great Spirit of the Plains Indians or the Christian Deity … every story Faust ever wrote seems to have to a degree both surface action and a subtext, a story within the story that functions on the deepest level.”

Although Faust received praise from literary critics, his lack of historical accuracy, scant descriptions of the landscape, and minimal actual experience on the frontier generated harsh criticism by those who admire realistic detail in Western fiction. Additionally, His writing quality was inconsistent. Most of his books and stories were produced at a breakneck pace, which sometimes amounted to 6,000 words in a single day. His work has also been butchered by editors who severely abridge his serialized stories for publication as novels.

Frederick Faust was a one-man fiction factory. He was also a great storyteller who invented enduring characters. Faust believed that “there is a giant asleep in every man.  When that giant wakes, miracles can happen.”  This was certainly true for him.

Saddle Up ! Denver Post article on resurgence of Westerns on TV

Joanne Ostrow writes a article summarizing television networks new fascination with the Western genre.

"The rugged individualism of myth, the challenge of uncharted territory, the bad sanitation and awful racial stereotypes ... the TV Western is back in the saddle."

Read more ...

Read related article on popularity of Westerns