Thomas Edison Created the Movie Industry and Produced the First Western

When people talk about the film industry, they seldom mention Thomas Edison, yet he filmed the first western at his studio in New York City. In 1903, the Edison Manufacturing Company distributed The Great Train Robbery. The nine minute film set many of the constructs for the genre. Stay till the end to see one of the motion picture industry's most iconic visuals.

I believe this makes Mr. Edison a cowboy at heart, which gives him the right to cavort in a Steve Dancy Tale. In The Return, Steve travels to New York to acquire rights to sell Edison's inventions in the Western states. Needless to say, he runs into trouble. I suppose The Return could be called a mash-up. The Old West conquers another world, one where a cosmopolitan refinement barely disguises a violent underworld run by gangs and overlords.

The Edison and gangland history is accurate. Steve Dancy's participation, not so much.

Honest Westerns filled with dishonest characters
The Return, A Steve Dancy Tale
143 Amazon Ratings for 4.6 stars

James D. Best is arguably one of the best writers of westerns, but his newest novel, The Return, is set in the East. --Alan Caruba, Bookviews

It's the summer of 1880, and Thomas Edison's incandescent bulb is poised to put the gaslight industry out of business. Knowing a good business opportunity, former New York shopkeeper Steve Dancy sets out to obtain a license for Edison's electric lamp. Edison agrees, under one condition: Dancy and his friends must stop the saboteurs who are disrupting his electrification of Wall Street. More worrisome, he has also unknowingly dragged along a feud that began out West. The feud could cost him Edison's backing ... and possibly his life.

An Odd Setting for a Western

Del Monte Hotel, Monterey, California

No Peace, A Steve Dancy Tale takes place at the Hotel Del Monte in Monterey, California. A resort overlooking the Pacific Ocean may seem an odd setting for a Western, but not to worry, Steve finds a way to get into trouble.

Actually, it's difficult to get further West than the Pacific Ocean, and California had its share of desperadoes. The Hotel Del Monte provides an interesting setting and remains in use today. During WWII, the building and grounds were requisitioned by the navy. In 1951, the Naval Academy postgraduate school moved from Annapolis to facilities in Monterey. The hotel is now called Herrmann Hall, the main building of the Naval Postgraduate School.

No Peace takes place a few years after Steve and Virginia ride off to enjoy their honeymoon at the end of Crossing the Animas. Life has been quiet for the newlyweds, so a family gathering in Monterey seemed to pose no apprehensions. Steve could not be more wrong. A duly elected sheriff and gang leader has consolidated his outlaws with the local Mexican bandits and a Chinese tong that controls the docks. With peace between the three rival gangs, there is no peace for the residents and visitors.

“How can I find this leader of the white gang?” Dancy asked.
“People don’t go looking for him. Ever. He sends people to find you. If you did find him, you’d be out of your element … and outnumbered. He never meets anyone alone. He’s always got mean killers around him. Ruthless men, capable of anything.”
 “I have friends,” I said.
“A gentleman like you doesn’t have the right kind of friends for men like this. My advice: pay the ransom, go home.”
“I may pay the ransom, and I certainly will go home.” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “If you won’t tell me how to find him, at least tell me his name?”
Nelson looked down at his lap and shook his head. Eventually, he looked up at me and shrugged. “Listen, his name is unimportant.” He leaned forward, hands folded, both forearms on his desk. “Stay away from him. He’s a murdering cutthroat who’d skin alive his own mother if there was money to be had. These are bad people. Very bad. Pay … and get the hell out of here.”

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

True West Magazine--April Issue

The Steve Dancy Tales will be featured in a full-page ad in the April edition of True West Magazine.
Look for it in your mail box or local newsstand.

How do you express civic pride when your namesake shot himself in his private parts?

I loved to ski, and my favorite mountain is Mammoth, California. When a friend owned a condo, I also skied the perfectly groomed slopes at Deer Valley. Deer Valley is skiing as life style, while Mammoth Mountain is skiing as sport. As I get older, my preference seems to be sliding toward lifestyle.

When I was talking about our winter ski plans with my brother-in-law, we got to talking about Lee Vining, a tiny village of about 200 hardy residents just north of Mammoth. The town is named after a miner who founded the encampment in 1852. By 1857, Vining was the town’s leading citizen, owning the sole sawmill that provided crucial timber for shafts and buildings.

Perhaps Mr. Wayne had not heard this story.

The town wasn’t named after Vining because of his pioneering spirit or philanthropic Last Will and Testament; it was named after him because he shot himself to death in nearby Aurora, Nevada. The story I heard was that he was drunk in a saloon and somehow the pistol tucked in his waistband went off. Everybody jumped because no one knew where the shot had come from or where it went. Vining just stood there a minute and then stumbled outside. There, he fell into the street and bled-out from a fatal wound to his most private parts.

Granted, this is a wretched story with a sad ending, but the silver lining is that in 1953, the town honored their fallen champion by naming the town after him. Actually, Lee Vining Creek and Lee Vining Canyon have served as the eastern gateway to Yosemite National Park for nearly a century.

I’d love to be remembered down through the ages with my name plastered on a town, mountain or post office, but Vining’s price seems steep. Maybe I’ll just try to win the lottery so a grateful UCLA will name a building after me. 

Buddies in the Saddle reviews The Return

Ron Scheer writes reasoned and comprehensive book reviews, so I was a little nervous when he accepted a review copy of The Return. I needn’t have worried. 

“You know you’re in good hands with James Best. This new 'Steve Dancy Tale' is told with the usual economy, clarity, and attention to detail. Best’s characters are fully three-dimensional and spring to life in a few words of dialogue. Best of all, you enjoy their company.” That last sentence is a great compliment to a writer.

You can read the complete review here. 

I also suggest you wander around Buddies in the Saddle. You’ll find descriptions and reviews of Western fiction, nonfiction, and film.

What am I writing?

The New York Times recently ran an opinion piece titled, “Don’t ask what I’m writing.” The article deals with writers’ uncertainty during the initial stage of a novel, and suggests friends shouldn’t ask too many early questions because it can be unnerving. True. 

I had a good friend ask about The Return when I first started and she was aghast when I said Dancy and his friends were going to New Jersey. She begged me not to take my Western series east. She loved the West and liked the fact that each book moved around the American frontier. Taking my characters to New Jersey and New York City seemed to her like some kind of betrayal. Her angst gave me pause, but after some additional thought, I went ahead anyway. I went ahead, but I never spoke to her again about the book, nor did I tell her about another major change in the lead character’s life.

Cowboy City in Farmingdale New Jersey

This friend is one of my rough draft readers who I trust to tell me the truth. She’s a reliable compass, so I was apprehensive about her take on my new novel. I shouldn’t have worried. She loved it. Her first words were, “I was wrong. I enjoyed seeing Western attitudes play out in an Eastern setting.”

I like fish-out-of-water stories. I took Steve Dancy, the New York shopkeeper, to the frontier for that very reason. He didn’t fit, but he had to adapt to survive. Now I let him return home to discover that he no longer easily fits in the east either. I also thought it was high time for him to have a grownup romantic interest. The entire series has been about Dancy ‘s growth and these two development have set up some interesting scenarios for the future. When I didn’t discuss it with others, I was confident about where I was taking the story. But there were moments when I feared I might be harming a great character and storyline. In the end, The Return has received faster and better reviews than the other books in the series. What a relief.

This is why I like the final advice of the New York Times piece:

1. Trust a few, necessary voices. 

2. Try, as much as possible, to avoid torturing these brave souls with your own insecurities. 

3. Shut up and write.

Turning a house into a home

Yesterday we walked our new house with a contractor. Whew, do we have a lot of work to do. Just about everything we own is in storage awaiting re-engineered heating, new flooring, scrapped ceilings, updated plumbing, and lots of paint. Guess our stuff will be hidden away in a dark warehouse awhile. In the meantime, we’ll stay in an apartment and make frequent visits to our renovation project. I already warned the contractor to expect to see us daily, so he should bid accordingly.

Our house may not be ready, but family and Omaha friends have already made us feel welcome. We were even welcomed by the Department of Motor Vehicles and the Douglas County Treasurer. The people in Omaha sure are friendly.

I’m hoping the temporary quarters will give me plenty of time to write. I already started researching the next Steve Dancy Tale. That means I’m reading books about the places Steve and his friends might visit. Reading about the Old West is fun, but I’m getting anxious to start writing. Especially, since I’ve come up with a tentative title. I hesitate to share it because it may change, but for now it will be called, Jenny’s Revenge.

A Surfer in Nebraska?

We arrived Friday evening in Omaha. It was late and we were very tired. Eight hundred and sixty miles of driving in a single day tends to do that to a worn out old body. I can’t imagine the hardships the pioneers endured. Brave souls.

Omaha, Nebraska is the geographic center of the nation. In the early days of the Cold War, the Pentagon put the Strategic Air Command headquarters outside Omaha to make it harder to hit. This means you can’t live in the United States and be further from a breaking wave.  So why would a lifelong surfer head for Nebraska? To be close to my grandkids who live in Omaha and closer to the ones who live in NYC. Besides, we still have a small condo in Pacific Beach to escape harsh winters on the Great Plains. Ironically, we bought our San Diego place to escape the scorching Arizona summers. (Arizona has two seasons: winter and hell.) I just need to convert from a summer surfer to a winter surfer. Thank goodness for wetsuits.

I’m going to enjoy writing Westerns from Nebraska. Omaha and the surrounding territory have a great Western heritage. In some respects, pockets of Arizona remain the Wild West, but Omaha nurtured the move west for many of the pioneers. Besides, it will be a great take-off point for trips to South Dakota, Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. These are all states I’ve visited several times, but want to spend more time exploring. It all ought to be great fun.

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A Fun Night in Virginia City

Last post I wrote that Mark Twain, Owen Wister and Wells Drury portrayed Westerners as particularly fond of pranks and practical jokes. Here is a tale Drury related in his Virginia City memoir titled An Editor on the Comstock Lode.

Rich mining towns attracted all sorts of people, including entertainers. Supposedly, a ham actor named O’Neil arrived at Pat Holland’s Music Hall begging for a job. Holland was known as a gentle practical joker, but would “never think of doing anything more serious than breaking a man’s leg.” He asked O’Neil if he could dance. After a brief audition, Holland decided to “work him for a game.”

“Have you ever tried Professor Morse slippers?” Holland asked.

“Never heard of them,” O’Neil responded.

“They’re a pair of electric slippers and we offer a prize if you can wear them without dancing. There are few who can wear them without cavortin’ all around the stage. If we could find a man who could stand it, we could win a barrel of money ‘cuz the men’d all bet against the game. Ye’ve a mind to try it.”

O’Neil agreed. After the slippers were strapped to his feet, Holland kept telling his stage manager to increase the current, but O’Neil never felt a thing. Finally, Holland ordered his man to “Jam it all on.” Still, O’Neil never flinched.

“Can ye do it?” Holland asked.

“Don’t ya call this doin’ it?”

“Ye’re right! Now for ropin’ in the huskies. Tomorrow we’ll win the majority of the money on the eastern slope of Mount Davidson, and ye shall have half of all we win.”

The next day posters were spread all over town announcing the challenge.  The Music Hall was standing room only that evening. After several preliminary acts, O’Neil was introduced to a roaring crowd.

“Gents, ye see before ye a stranger who proposes to show ye that he can wear Professor Morse slippers for five minutes without jumpin’ around,” Holland announced. “If anybody wants to gamble on the proposition, he’s my Injun.”

The hall was in pandemonium, with everybody holding up $20 gold coins. Holland consulted with his partners and announced that bets would be limited to $1,000, so the crowd needed to consolidate their wagers. A stakeholder and clerks were brought on stage and soon stacks upon stacks of gold coins weighted down the tables. Finally, over $10,000 had been wagered and O’Neil was getting visibly excited at the possibility of winning half of the stake.

A committee was appointed from the crowd of onlookers to remove O’Neil’s boots and put the slippers on his feet.  O’Neil began to brag, “I could walk across the great American desert with them slippers and never make a skip.”

“Turn on yer steam!” an engineer shouted.

O’Neil walked around the stage with nary a skip. At the four minute mark, O’Neil shouted, “I’ve only a minute longer, and I’d like to bet $1,000 I can make it. I’ll call it two thousand!”

About that time, O’Neil yelped and danced and shrieked and jumped. “Take ‘em off!” he screamed.

The crowd of miners yelled and whooped.

Holland had the electricity turned off, and O’Neil gradually recovered from his ordeal. He was pulling on his boots when Holland emerged from backstage with a navy six-shooter.

Cocking the pistol, Holland yelled, “Villain! Ye’ve ruined me. I’ve a notion to murder ye!

“No! Please don’t shoot!”

“Out of my sight. Git!” Holland yelled as he fired into the ceiling.

O’Neil ran for his life, knocking several people down who were hanging around the stage.

Holland made $500 off admission fees and all of the wager money was returned the rightful owners ... who had all been in on the prank.

The Telegraph talks about the future of Westerns

David Gritten has written a perceptive and informative article in the U.K. Telegram about the future of Westerns. It is titled, "Is it high noon for western films." 

Gritten doesn't think so. Neither do I. In fact, I believe Westerns are at the beginning of a rebirth. Here is an example of why I think this way. Google Elmore Leonard and the listings invariably reference only his crime novels. Western enthusiasts know he was one of the great Western authors, but apparently few in the media are aware of this fact. The Pacific Standard recently published a somewhat snarky article about how Elmore Leonard began his writing career pumping out cowboy stories, but transitioned to his award winning crime novels after demand dwindled for Western fiction. This line is repeated endlessly in articles eulogizing Leonard upon his recent death. His move from Westerns to crime was almost four decades ago. No one in the media seems to have noticed that more recently, bestselling crime novelist Robert B. Parker ended his memorable career by writing a highly successful Western series about hired guns Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch. 

I could list more indicators of a resurgence in Westerns, but the bigger question is why supposed arbiters of popular culture are so intent on tamping down the Western every time a cowboy hat rises above the ridgeline? Why do they sound gleeful that The Lone Ranger flopped? (Actually, The Lone Ranger grossed $88 million in theaters, which would be respectable for a reasonably budgeted film.)

A simple answer is that most of the media critics live along the eastern seaboard and don’t relate to Westerns or even the vast wilderness that lies beyond the Hudson River.  But there must be more. Hollywood and publishing gatekeepers support the same stories and themes in fantasy and science fiction. It’s okay to wield a magic wand or a precious ring, but not a six-shooter? Outer space aliens can be killed with abandon, but not bad guys in black hats. I’m not sure what the answer is, but there seems to be a prevailing fear that the Western may once again become popular with the general public. If anyone has an answer as to why Westerns offend the elite, I would sure like to hear it.

Western Heresy

As a kid I was not a big fan of Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, or The Lone Ranger. Sure, I watched them, but they never had the pull of Josh Randall or Paladin. Even as a youngster, I preferred tarnished heroes. The protagonists in Wanted Dead or Alive and Have Gun Will Travel were grittier than the signing cowboys or a masked man that always shot the gun out of the villain’s hand. I liked that Paladin wore all black and Josh Randall never apologized for tracking down men for money. These were hard men with a strict code of honor. They might kill, but never without just cause.

Wordslingers: An Epitaph for the Western

A new book brought these thoughts to mind. Wordslingers: An Epitaph for the Western by Will Murray is a comprehensive history of Western pulp fiction. I’m not a fan of Western pulps, but I’m a huge fan of Western pulp cover art. I collect pulp fiction Western books and magazines, and love to rummage around used bookstores so I can add to my collection. I’ve never read an entire pulp Western because the stories never seemed to live up to the promise of the cover art. I’ve probably missed something, so I’m going to ask for Murray’s book for Christmas. With back cover art like this, how can I resist?

Are Romance Novels True Westerns?

Several of my fellow writers lament that it’s almost impossible to break into Amazon high ranking for Westerns due to Romance Novels filling all the slots. Actually, many of the top slots are held by some great Westerns, like These is my Words, The Sisters Brothers, Lonesome Dove, The Son, and All The Pretty Horses, but it’s true that the remainder of the Top100 tend to be romance, 99 cent books, or Western writers of yesteryear.

Romance Westerns are popular, but they’re not new. Arguably, The Virginian was the first Romance Western. After all, the hero doesn't ride off into the sunset; he marries the schoolmarm and visits Vermont to meet her family. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance—my favorite Western movie—is a romantic story in more ways than one. As for titillating tales of the West, they've been around for ages as well.

I don’t begrudge the popularity of Romance Westerns, but I have to admit I’m jealous of their sales. Maybe that’s why I slipped a romantic theme into my latest Steve Dancy tale, The Return. 

Actually, I didn't do it on purpose, it was Steve who insisted.

Steve Dancy in Love?

Steve Dancy has had a rocky romantic life in the first three novels. His mother pushed him to marry a young lady who would enhance the family’s wealth and connections, but New York City socialites and socializing bored Steve. In defiance, he sold everything and followed Horace Greeley advice to “Go west, young man.” 




Steve assumed he would observe the frontier and write a great literary classic about the Wild West. He found enough adventure to fill several books and made a few male friends along the way. In his wanderings, he also encountered many different types of women, but Steve argued with every one of them. Needless to say, this was not the best way to strike up a relationship.

Things change in The Return.  Steve remains clumsy with the opposite sex, but even a dunderhead can be successful on occasion. I’d tell you what happens, but why ruin the suspense. You’ll just have to buy a copy and read for yourself.

As for me, I'm leaving the scorching heat of Arizona for Pacific Beach. I'll get in a little surfing between playing with my grandkids, who are flying in from Nebraska. You know, I think my granddaughter is the right age to start bogie boarding. This is gonna be fun.

The First Movie Studio—And a Mea Culpa

Edison's Black Maria, West Orange New Jersey

Edison’s first movie studio was in West Orange, New Jersey. It was nicknamed the Black Maria after the stuffy paddy wagons of the day. According to Wikipedia, “The first films shot at the Black Maria, a tar-paper-covered, dark studio room with a retractable roof, included segments of magic shows, plays, vaudeville performances (with dancers and strongmen), acts from Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, various boxing matches and cockfights, and scantily-clad women.” Let’s see. Edison started the film industry with Westerns, comedy, violence, and soft-porn. Seems that when the movie industry migrated to Hollywood, the moguls in charge adopted the same themes.

This very first studio shows the movie industry's predilection to innovate. Notice that the roof can be lifted to catch the light and the entire building is on a rail to rotate with the sun.

Edison Motion Picture Studio

What was not filmed at Black Maria was The Great Train Robbery mentioned in my last post. The first feature film was actually shot at the Edison Motion Picture Studio in the Bronx, New York City. My error. At the Black Maria, Edison did film acts from Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, so I’ll still award New Jersey honorary Western status.

Speaking of Hollywood, according to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the movie industry did not leave New York because of the weather.

“Motion Picture Patents Company, also called Movie Trust, Edison Trust, or The Trust, a trust of 10 film producers and distributors who attempted to gain complete control of the motion-picture industry in the United States from 1908 to 1912. The company, which was sometimes called the Movie Trust, possessed most of the available motion-picture patents, especially those of Thomas A. Edison, for camera and projection equipment. It entered into a contract with Eastman Kodak Company, the largest manufacturer of raw film stock, to restrict the supply of film to licensed members of the company.

The company was notorious for enforcing its restrictions by refusing equipment to uncooperative filmmakers and theatre owners and for its attempts to terrorize independent film producers. It limited the length of films to one and two reels (10 to 20 minutes) because movie audiences were believed incapable of enjoying more protracted entertainment. The company also forbade the identification of actors because popular entertainers might demand higher salaries. By 1912, however, the success of European and independent producers and the violent opposition of filmmakers outside the company weakened the Movie Trust, which, in 1917, was dissolved by court order. The Movie Trust, which was based in New York and other cities of the East Coast, was indirectly responsible for the establishment of Hollywood, Calif., as the nation’s film capital, since many independent filmmakers migrated to the latter town to escape the Trust’s restrictive influence in the East.”

The Tricks Women do With Ropes

I was wandering around YouTube and found a fun video of Eleanor Powell tap dancing her way through some impressive rope tricks. Reputed to be the best female tap dancer, Powell was the first wife of Glenn Ford. For the impatient, her roping begins at about 1:30 into the video.




Powell once said, "A tap dancer is really a frustrated drummer." To prove her point, she danced with Buddy Rich, reputed to be the world's best drummer.

And now for something completely different...

Owen Wister’s Virginian Would not Approve

Poor, but smiling nonetheless

Last month, Paul Mountjoy of Virginia wrote a snarky article for the Washington Times website titled, “The Old West: When men were men and women knew their place.” He opens with the following paragraph. 

“How many times have we heard men declare of the days of the old West, ‘men were men and women stayed at home and knew their place’? This is a common refrain after folks watch a movie based on the period.”

How many times? None, that I've encountered. This is not a common refrain of Western film enthusiasts. It is a writer’s cheap trick. Attribute a sexist comment to something you intend to denigrate.

Mountjoy proceeds to make commonplace observations about the true nature of gunfights in the Old West, list everyday hardships as if they were unique to the frontier, and reminds us that people died of disease and attacks without good medical assistance. The West, of course, was completely void of compassion due to men “witnessing 25 thousand deaths in a matter of days” during the Civil War. (I'm sure this callousness never afflicted men in the actual battleground state of Virginia.) Mountjoy has a penchant for hyperbole. He also claimed prostitutes in the West took “up to 50 or more customers nightly, more often than not, in an alley between two buildings.”

Perhaps Mountjoy’s motive is to promote employment for his friends in the nation’s capital. He writes, “If their farmer husband became disabled and had no older sons to take over the farm, they were in deep trouble. There were no government programs to help.” That seals it; the real Old West was nothing like the movies. And I thought White House Down was a documentary.

Mountjoy misses the whole point of Western mythology. I wrote an article titled, “Is the Mythologyof the Old West Dead?” Here's one paragraph. 

“The West, outer space, the future, or a make-believe land represents a new beginning in a fresh place away from home—the shrugging off of disappointments and a chance to start all over again. The romance and adventure of frontiers draws people desperate to escape the travail of their current existence. We've seen this in real life with the migrations to the New World and the Old West, but today many people satisfy this longing vicariously with fiction. If you're poor, your family makes you miserable, you've committed an act that offends society, or wanderlust has gripped you, then the adventure and limitless opportunity of a frontier beckons like a siren's call. Emigrating to a frontier means you get a do-over in a land with no rules, no fences, no referees.” 

It’s the absence of civilization that draws stalwart people to a frontier. They can start over and build a better life. Maybe they won’t, but they’re willing to take risks just for the chance. Listing hardships never dissuaded pioneers, whether they were setting off for Plymouth or Tombstone. They were a tough and hopeful breed. We lament the demise of the frontier and the Old West because we need more of these courageous people.

The Western in Advertising

Westerns were hugely popular for over a hundred years. Not only were they popular in the United States, but the whole world devoured them. Recently, my brother bought a book about Chinese firecracker art. (He’s an art professor who likes quirky design.) He sent me a couple vintage images with cowboys. It started me thinking about advertising with a Western Theme. Once common, it’s a bit rarer today. There were some clever concepts … and some not so clever.

I put up a Pinterest Board with some examples.

The Western used to be a staple of advertising ... and fiction, movies, television, and daydreams. It will be again.

John C.H. Grabill, Renown Western Photographer

"Branding cattle" Six cowboys branding cattle in front of a house. 1891

Last week I posted "Preserving Western culture through photography."

Don Schimmel takes beautiful contemporary photographs that help preserve our Western culture, but John C.H. Grabill was actually there to take photographs of the real Old West. The Denver Post has 66 of Grabill’s photographs posted on their website. He submitted 188 photographs to the Library of Congress for copyright protection. Grabill’s subjects included cowboys, native Americans, trains, stages, wagons, landscapes, and towns. The contrast between Native American encampments and frontier towns is interesting. He is especially renowned for his photographs of Deadwood, South Dakota and the Wounded Knee Massacre.

 Washing and panning gold, Rockerville, Dak. Old timers, Spriggs, Lamb and Dillon at work

Since the characters in my Steve Dancy series are miners, I found the mining pictures helpful, especially the heavy equipment used by the big operations.

You can see all 66 photographs by following this link.

Preserving Western culture through photography

Don Schimmel Photography

There are many ways to preserve our Western Culture. I prefer books, of course. I have no visual or musical talents, but I still appreciate Western film, music, and photography. Schimmel has a talent for catching a mood. Take a look at his site through the link above and enjoy some great photographs.

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.