“…gallop through places where law has no dominion and Death constantly deals a grim hand”
Most people have heard stories about the Wild West, but “Hot Iron and Cold Blood” is an anthology that delves into the weirdness of the untamed west. When strange things go bump in the night, how can anyone assume a sense of security while sitting by the campfire? When small towns are being established, how does it feel to engage in a debate about the most effective way to hang a man? Cannibalistic spirits, shapeshifters, and interdimensional entities of cosmic horror await the weary travelers of the weird west.
Most people have heard stories about the Wild West, but “Hot Iron and Cold Blood” is an anthology that delves into the weirdness of the untamed west. When strange things go bump in the night, how can anyone assume a sense of security while sitting by the campfire? When small towns are being established, how does it feel to engage in a debate about the most effective way to hang a man? Cannibalistic spirits, shapeshifters, and interdimensional entities of cosmic horror await the weary travelers of the weird west.
Readability
When I passed the halfway point of this book, I was under the impression that this anthology was a pet project put together by HWA members for the primary purpose of collaborating with each other. What gave me that impression was the lackadaisical curation of content, which included work that really had no business being a part of this collection – not necessarily due to quality, but because they just didn’t fit the theme. So this is why it is very important to know who the editors are before submitting to any anthology, because in this case it seems like the project managers were more interested in making friends and satisfying their colleagues than satisfying the consumer, because it shows in the final product. However, this is also why I take the time to review each individual entry in the collection, because it’s not the authors’ fault if their work ends up getting published with stuff that is uncomplimentary.
Unfortunately the eye sores of this collection left a negative impact upon the overall reading experience, like neglected real estate that affects the property values of an entire neighborhood. The only thing I can say in regard to the editing is that if you are curating a collection of works for an anthology that has a theme, then the very least you can do as an editor is to make sure each story fits the theme, and don’t worry about hurting your colleague’s feelings when you are in charge of creating a commercial product. This is something that you are asking the general public to spend their money on, and it also exemplifies the level of professionalism from the publishing house (Death’s Head Press).
Creativity
After reading the whole book, I have to say that I found the curation to be unfocused, but in the Afterword, McDonough says:
“I wanted to start with a straight western, ease into the weird until we hit the queerest one, and gradually transition back toward grittier westerns, with an epic finale.”
Maybe he said that based on what he had to work with. I don’t know how many submissions he had in total, but he also kind of validated my suspicions by mentioning that there were some authors who were “invited” to submit something.
I think the cover art did most of the heavy lifting in terms of marketing this work. The whole “weird west” theme seems kind of vague based on the blurb alone, but the cover really gives you a taste of what you’re in for. In an age where so many two-bit hacks are slapping A.I. generated crap onto their books, I feel like it’s my duty to give credit where credit is due, and Robert Sammelin is the man responsible for the eye-catching cover art.
Delivery
For anthologies I like to say a little something about each story, but whatever I have to say is based on maybe a few focal points that stood out to me specifically. My comments should not be considered a reflection of everything that the story has to offer. It’s possible for a different set of eyes to read the same story and come to alternative conclusions in regard to interpreting the content. However, I will mark individual stories that I thought were exceptional in terms of craft and score the overall delivery of this collection accordingly.
“Ruthless” by Jill Girardi: A female gunslinger named Ruth presents an old friend (a.k.a. her secret lesbian crush?) with information about her daughter, who went missing several years prior and was presumed dead. It’s a rescue mission that focuses on the passage of time and Stockholm syndrome. Many words were wasted on pointless characterization and not enough put into pacing a proper plot; so there’s janky “jump cuts” in the narrative. There’s a sadistic tribe of Oompa-Loompa cannibals called the “Nonape”, and I kept picturing dozens of Zuni Dolls from “Trilogy of Terror” (1975). Girardi got aesthetically creative with the shapeshifter (skin-walker?) concept – very mindful, very demure.
“Texas Macabre” by Owl Goingback: What starts off as an adventure about two Texas rangers and a rancher tracking down some horse thieves, ends up taking a sharp left turn into the realm of black magic and dark humor. The tone gets progressively wackier like it was aiming for an “Evil Dead 2” (1987) brand of humor, and I’m surprised Vidal didn’t say, “I’ll swallow your soul!” However, I did laugh out loud during the scene where Nascha said:
“You must sew his head back on, with this.” She handed William the needle and thread. “And then you must kill him again.”
“Holes” by Brennan LaFaro: A merciless and bloodthirsty sheriff nicknamed “Hellfire” is granted no reprieve from the strange Lovecraftian horrors that torment his psyche from mysterious holes that pop up all around his isolated property. The sequence where “Sparrow” was filling one of Renny’s holes, while the narrative shifted between the sex scene and Elijah’s flashbacks, was quite stylistic. “Holes” takes place in the fictional town that’s featured in some of LaFaro’s other work; so Buzzard’s Edge serves as a Mosaic universe. The idea is fine, but the author also needs to keep in mind that people aren’t going to automatically know the back story for these other characters that receive vague cameos (e.g. Johnny Mabry & why he was blown to “smithereens”). There needs to be a reason within this story to warrant the name drop. Who are these characters, and how are they relevant to Elijah’s story specifically? The editor should have retitled this one “Plot Holes”, because the piece ends without any solid conclusion, and it reads more like a chapter ripped from a book than it does a short story.
(Exceptional) “Soiled Doves” by Vivian Kasley: A bitter rivalry between two brothels ignites a powder keg of bloody destruction in this Grindhouse style romp. Vivian absolutely nails the tone. It was giving Tarantino type vibes, like “From Dusk Till Dawn” (1996). The humor is aloof and it works so well for quick but effective characterization. I like how Madam Jennie fancies herself a philanthropist, but yet talks trash about her competition as if they’re just the low-brow good-for-nothing “honkytonk bordello” (Lol). The imagery at the end, when the “Pretty Kitty” gang (the titular “Soiled Doves”) is marching across town to “Etta’s Doll House”, is brilliant. Etta’s character is a comic book villain, and I laughed about the origins of the mystery powder, too. I whispered to myself, Made in “Chy-na”.
“About Her Given Name” by Kenzie Jennings: I have no clue wtf I just read, tbh. It’s something about a girl named Rose who had a “friend” named Clyde (a.k.a. “the giant”, a.k.a. “Mr. Bear”), who lived in a cabin, who used to work at an orphanage for histrionic little girls (from what I could tell), and he was brutally murdered, mutilated, and dismembered by some psychopaths who represented the orphanage, fast forward “TWENTY YEARS LATER” and I think Rose (a.k.a. Miss Northway, a.k.a. “Clyde” – because she took on his name) is seeking revenge, all the while also being hunted herself. Stuff happens, but there’s no story. Miss Northway is attacked twice at the Inn by characters whose motivations were a complete mystery to me, but it doesn’t matter because she is a ninja badass and just brutally murders them in a self-defense situation but still feels the need to bribe bystanders to make the bodies disappear without any fuss from the law or the owner of the Inn. The dialogue is painfully juvenile, and I’m not just referring to the little girls. I have no idea how this thing made it past the editor and got published in this anthology. At best, this is a jumbled mess of a rough draft that has potential to be developed into something, but it definitely is not a complete story as it stands in this collection. I would be embarrassed if I had a story published alongside whatever this thing is trying to be.
“The Night of El Maldito” by Ronald Kelly: A.k.a “El Noche de The Accursed” is both a simple yet fun creature feature and murder mystery about cattle being slaughtered by presumably a creature that only appears during a full moon. There’s a creative twist to this classic werewolf tale, and I appreciate the originality, but I also thought this story needed just a little more set up to keep it from going off the rails at the end. The red herring was obvious, and it was funny to me how Mateo just decides to conveniently leave the scene to go “pray” (because he allegedly does it best while alone) right when shit is about to hit the fan thanks to his doing, and Sam is just like, “Say one for me, while you’re at it.” Also, the cold-blooded nature of the cook didn’t really add up for me, even with his shoehorned backstory after the fact. Like wtf did the cattleman do to him? It sounded like he was greatly appreciated, to me, but apparently he had been a closeted racist psychopath the whole time and suddenly decided that he should spend the rest of his twilight years going on a rampage against all gringos (the dude is in his seventies)? Okay… lol, whatever. Sure.
“The Deviltry of Elemental Valence” by Edward Lee: The story begins in the year 2000 with a metalhead degenerate working under-the-table to dig up a grave and move a casket for a wealthy-looking doctor, who shows up unexpectedly during the job. The flashback to the year 1877, just before finding out what was in the casket, ramped up the suspense just enough to get me through the sloppy storytelling and schlocky splatterpunk shock value. It’s not what’s in the casket that’s as important as who the grave belonged to, which only served to further my suspicion that this bowel movement was the product of a half-baked idea that came to fruition within the span of a day - generic Lovecraftian pastiche.
“Old World Birds” by Drew E. Huff: Stream of consciousness doesn’t even begin to explain this fever dream. This “story” is a plotless experimental piece that follows a character nicknamed the “bird lady” (a.k.a. Iliana) who has a flock of sparrows living in her guts. Many fragmented sentences form the idiosyncratic prose of this work that, for all intents and purposes, seems to be some sort of metaphor about identity and body image. The only hint I gathered from the material was the concept of “Old World flesh” being “exterminated” by the “New World”, and a brief comment about the New World would someday “tolerate” the existence of “Old World bodies”. There’s some bizarre sexual content (make of it what you will), but essentially what we have here is mental illness made manifest through the page. It’s fascinating to experience the madness unfold, then put the book down, back away slowly, and try not to think about it too much. Surreal fiction is difficult to do well, because it basically becomes a Rorschach test in terms of critical analysis and trying to interpret the text, and I don’t do inkblots. I think it would be more entertaining to listen to the author as they explain what this work is/means, rather than make any attempt to figure it out for myself, because it’s literally just too gonzo for me (and I’ve read some wacky shit).
“Sedalia” by David J. Schow: I don’t know whose nephew this is or why his story about ghost dinosaurs appearing out of thin air and somehow creating physical havoc in a contemporary California setting made its way into this anthology focused on weird westerns, but I’m not impressed. I would say this is more of a weird Science Fiction story than anything resembling a Western, but I digress. The only thing that remotely made the piece a “western” was the reference to the T.V. show “Rawhide”, and that the narrative revolves around these characters who are drivers meant to somehow herd prehistoric entities the size of buildings away from the city, thanks to the help of a psychic that guides the group. The premise struck me with a degree of absurdity that you would expect from someone like a Kurt Vonnegut or like a Thomas Pynchon, fully equipped with the postmodern style prose – chock-full of introspective writing, pop culture references, and ADHD driven asides about local California car dealers and their infomercials and dreams/fantasies about Disneyland, and just casual commentary about Dino farts/poop. I am not a fan of this postmodernist literary style and the pretentious drivel these authors (using the term loosely) push into the world of literature. Not only does this work stick out like a sore thumb in this anthology due to the author (or the editor for that matter) not understanding the assignment, but it’s just trash storytelling. This entry makes a mockery of the craft, because it’s nothing but pages upon pages of filler and rambling with a bare-bones plot that I don’t even think a paleontologist could piece together and make any sense of.
(Exceptional)“Rope and Limb” by Jeff Strand: One of the shortest stories in the collection, but also one of the most memorable – about a bank robber set to be hanged but gets into an argument with the Mayor over the town’s primitive means of execution. The genuinely funny dialogue between Darius, the nitwit Mayor, and the townsfolk was like reading a sketch comedy script straight out of Monty Python’s Flying Circus. Darius keeps bringing up how a rival town is more technologically advanced with their gallows vs the tree & limb means of execution in Mayor Wasser’s town of Grassy Point. This prompts hilarious banter from the people of the small town, who chime in with comments about how the neighboring town seems to have better morale, which gets the Mayor all riled up. Wasser starts arguing with his own people about how their taxes are spent and making general excuses for skimping on a local carpenter to build a proper gallows for the execution. There’s a funny exchange in regard to the comment about the other town having a higher morale:
“Well… if they do, and I don’t think they do, it’s not because of their double twitch-up gallows!”
“He’s right,” said a man. “It’s because they have a much better whorehouse.”
The men all nodded and murmured their agreement.
“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Mayor Wasser. “The Grassy Point Pleasure Dome is the finest whorehouse for sixty-five miles! Those ladies will do things that would send our wives to the sanitarium...”
“Dread Creek” by Briana Morgan: This story is focused more on the horror elements than the western, but it does feature horses and a gang of outlaws, as they decide to stop and make camp for the night near a body of water with an ominous name. The foreshadowing isn’t exactly subtle here, and I really wasn’t surprised by the ending. The shock value from the imagery reminded me of “Cabin Fever” (2002). There was a little bit of a double meaning behind the dread, because the story centers on a couple of newlyweds and the possibility of infidelity among members of the gang. The source of “the sickness” is never explained, there’s just this generic sense of evil foreshadowed by the smell of “Sulphur” while they’re filling their canteens. I laughed when Jesse left his alleged friend for dead at the creek, but not before accusing him of fucking his wife when his friend said he wouldn’t abandon him if the roles were reversed. I was like, bro… should that really be on your mind at such a time? And we don’t even get a solid answer on the matter. It’s just Jesse assuming the worst of his friend and his wife. However, when the screaming occurred, and Jesse was searching for his guns that mysteriously went missing for some reason, Delilah did tell him that he needed to go check things out, instead of begging him not to go. So maybe she didn’t care about him all that much. I think this story could have reached its full potential if the plot had been fleshed out (pun intended) a little bit better to provide some answers that would have satisfied my curiosity as the reader – specifically surrounding the relationship drama, why/how are they outlaws, and the origin of the plague, but with that being said this is still far from being the worst thing I read in this anthology.
“It Calls” by Patrick R. McDonough: I imagine this kaleidoscope of “WTF DID I JUST READ?” is probably the product of someone who was writing while under the influence of Stephen King books and John Carpenter movies. There’s a woman named Constance and her daughter (Effie) in an isolated cabin where they are being terrorized by a “leviathan of light” that shot down from the sky. It makes the animals look and behave all weird. It has alien telepathy and has tentacles that can control people like a marionette. There’s no set up, no plot to speak of, and no noticeable character arcs. It is just a shit show of crazy imagery and stuff happening. I think the title gives away some of the inspiration behind this offbeat vignette, because it is essentially an amalgamation of moments taken from popular horror titles and reimagined for this odd piece of work. It is what “It” is, I guess. *shrugs
“Old Habits” by L.M. Labat: William faces a moral quandary when he realizes that his father, Dr. Lester (who is hailed as a hometown hero), is actually just a snake oil salesman grifting off the scarlet fever epidemic. The narrative begins by introducing the protagonist already in a state of fear and anxiety as he awaits his fate and relays his story in the form of a journal entry that serves as the primary framing device. There’s a supernatural element to the story that creates a kind of a gothic atmosphere, which I think goes well with the gaslight setting. In a nutshell, we’re talking one part family drama mixed with daddy issues, and one part run-of-the-mill ghost story with a benevolent twist. Aside from the use of profanity, I think this author showed the most restraint so far in terms of staying true to the emotional aspects of the narrative without feeling the need to mix in some gratuitous gore just for the sake of spicing shit up.
“Hungry” by Jesse Allen Champion: A labor encampment of Chinese railroad workers is mysteriously attacked by ravenous spirits, and the event spurs a quick history lesson about the Donner party. The term “gwai lo” was used thirteen times, and allegedly means “ghost man”, but apparently it’s also used as a pejorative by some Chinese in reference to Westerners. I could see that sentiment coming from immigrants living off rice, salted meat, and employed by whitey for a pittance while working on the railroad all the live-long day. It’s a pretty lame and contrived little story, and not much thought was put into the plot. Chan’s character was seen as an authority and acting doctor for the Chinese labor camp, but conveniently he’s also an expert on ghosts. In order to appease the hungry “ghosts”, according to the doctor’s logic, the Chinamen were ordered to sacrifice all their rations in a bonfire, and this is coming from the same character who calls the white man “barbarians”. Lol, okay.
“The Redheaded Dead” by Joe R. Lansdale: This story is a tribute to the memory of Robert E. Howard, and I could see the inspiration. Mercer is a jaded reverend who is constantly tested by God. His character goes through an internal battle of faith, but also an external battle with evil in the form of a vampiric creature that was intentionally unleashed courtesy of God’s “hand”. The narrative is fast-paced, and I thought the action was pretty easy to follow, but the continuity was questionable. The vampire creature had a neck long enough to sway its head around freely (like a serpent), but then when Mercer was struggling with the creature in the empty grave it somehow couldn’t reach him with its jaws while he was holding the demon back by its biceps. Also, there’s an awkward use of simile that went against the grain of the established tone that momentarily ripped me out of the story:
“Its body caught the tip of the rod and the point of it tore through the monster with a sound like someone bending too-quick in tight pants and tearing the ass out of them.”
Okay, Spongebob (lol). Anyways, I felt like I was reading a piece of “Solomon Kane” fan fiction or something, and the dedication beforehand is what made that apparent from the beginning. Not a bad example of pulp fiction, but basically just meant to showcase the author’s ability to write action scenes. I would say use simile sparingly and make your analogies somewhat relevant to what’s actually happening on the page. Making irrelevant comparisons, that may be accurate in a practical sense, can be jarring to read if it doesn’t make much sense within the given context. The vampire wasn’t even wearing pants.
“Seeking A Grave In Canaan” by Wile E. Young: Salem Covington is back in an all new splatter-western adventure that’s fun for the whole Mormon family. This story is a continuation from a series of books that started with “The Magpie Coffin”, and unless you’ve read that then there will be things about this story that probably won’t make sense. Why does Mr. Covington keep referencing a mysterious brand under his eye? Why does Mr. Covington’s gun talk to him? Why does Mr. Covington say “No gun could kill me”? When you are writing a standalone short that features previously established characters from a preexisting IP, you cannot rely on headcanon to fill in the plot holes. You need to come up with creative ways of quickly relaying the lore to the reader as if it is their first time experiencing the characters. Also, the discovery writing was painstakingly obvious in this one. One moment there’s an entire party of Mormons, and the next it’s just Salem, the sister-wives, and the boy; which begs the question, what was the point of assembling a search party in the first place if not but an arbitrary formality? It just seemed like the author was making shit up as he went along, but as soon as Salem’s character knocked the teeth out of the bartender’s mouth for simply refusing him service (as if that makes his character look badass) I knew this story was going to be lowbrow trash. When I feel like the author is just yanking my chain and stringing me along in whatever direction the wind blows without much rhyme or reason behind the plot, I kind of checkout mentally and just take whatever happens with a grain of salt (pun not intended).
When I passed the halfway point of this book, I was under the impression that this anthology was a pet project put together by HWA members for the primary purpose of collaborating with each other. What gave me that impression was the lackadaisical curation of content, which included work that really had no business being a part of this collection – not necessarily due to quality, but because they just didn’t fit the theme. So this is why it is very important to know who the editors are before submitting to any anthology, because in this case it seems like the project managers were more interested in making friends and satisfying their colleagues than satisfying the consumer, because it shows in the final product. However, this is also why I take the time to review each individual entry in the collection, because it’s not the authors’ fault if their work ends up getting published with stuff that is uncomplimentary.
Unfortunately the eye sores of this collection left a negative impact upon the overall reading experience, like neglected real estate that affects the property values of an entire neighborhood. The only thing I can say in regard to the editing is that if you are curating a collection of works for an anthology that has a theme, then the very least you can do as an editor is to make sure each story fits the theme, and don’t worry about hurting your colleague’s feelings when you are in charge of creating a commercial product. This is something that you are asking the general public to spend their money on, and it also exemplifies the level of professionalism from the publishing house (Death’s Head Press).
Creativity
After reading the whole book, I have to say that I found the curation to be unfocused, but in the Afterword, McDonough says:
“I wanted to start with a straight western, ease into the weird until we hit the queerest one, and gradually transition back toward grittier westerns, with an epic finale.”
Maybe he said that based on what he had to work with. I don’t know how many submissions he had in total, but he also kind of validated my suspicions by mentioning that there were some authors who were “invited” to submit something.
I think the cover art did most of the heavy lifting in terms of marketing this work. The whole “weird west” theme seems kind of vague based on the blurb alone, but the cover really gives you a taste of what you’re in for. In an age where so many two-bit hacks are slapping A.I. generated crap onto their books, I feel like it’s my duty to give credit where credit is due, and Robert Sammelin is the man responsible for the eye-catching cover art.
Delivery
For anthologies I like to say a little something about each story, but whatever I have to say is based on maybe a few focal points that stood out to me specifically. My comments should not be considered a reflection of everything that the story has to offer. It’s possible for a different set of eyes to read the same story and come to alternative conclusions in regard to interpreting the content. However, I will mark individual stories that I thought were exceptional in terms of craft and score the overall delivery of this collection accordingly.
“Ruthless” by Jill Girardi: A female gunslinger named Ruth presents an old friend (a.k.a. her secret lesbian crush?) with information about her daughter, who went missing several years prior and was presumed dead. It’s a rescue mission that focuses on the passage of time and Stockholm syndrome. Many words were wasted on pointless characterization and not enough put into pacing a proper plot; so there’s janky “jump cuts” in the narrative. There’s a sadistic tribe of Oompa-Loompa cannibals called the “Nonape”, and I kept picturing dozens of Zuni Dolls from “Trilogy of Terror” (1975). Girardi got aesthetically creative with the shapeshifter (skin-walker?) concept – very mindful, very demure.
“Texas Macabre” by Owl Goingback: What starts off as an adventure about two Texas rangers and a rancher tracking down some horse thieves, ends up taking a sharp left turn into the realm of black magic and dark humor. The tone gets progressively wackier like it was aiming for an “Evil Dead 2” (1987) brand of humor, and I’m surprised Vidal didn’t say, “I’ll swallow your soul!” However, I did laugh out loud during the scene where Nascha said:
“You must sew his head back on, with this.” She handed William the needle and thread. “And then you must kill him again.”
“Holes” by Brennan LaFaro: A merciless and bloodthirsty sheriff nicknamed “Hellfire” is granted no reprieve from the strange Lovecraftian horrors that torment his psyche from mysterious holes that pop up all around his isolated property. The sequence where “Sparrow” was filling one of Renny’s holes, while the narrative shifted between the sex scene and Elijah’s flashbacks, was quite stylistic. “Holes” takes place in the fictional town that’s featured in some of LaFaro’s other work; so Buzzard’s Edge serves as a Mosaic universe. The idea is fine, but the author also needs to keep in mind that people aren’t going to automatically know the back story for these other characters that receive vague cameos (e.g. Johnny Mabry & why he was blown to “smithereens”). There needs to be a reason within this story to warrant the name drop. Who are these characters, and how are they relevant to Elijah’s story specifically? The editor should have retitled this one “Plot Holes”, because the piece ends without any solid conclusion, and it reads more like a chapter ripped from a book than it does a short story.
(Exceptional) “Soiled Doves” by Vivian Kasley: A bitter rivalry between two brothels ignites a powder keg of bloody destruction in this Grindhouse style romp. Vivian absolutely nails the tone. It was giving Tarantino type vibes, like “From Dusk Till Dawn” (1996). The humor is aloof and it works so well for quick but effective characterization. I like how Madam Jennie fancies herself a philanthropist, but yet talks trash about her competition as if they’re just the low-brow good-for-nothing “honkytonk bordello” (Lol). The imagery at the end, when the “Pretty Kitty” gang (the titular “Soiled Doves”) is marching across town to “Etta’s Doll House”, is brilliant. Etta’s character is a comic book villain, and I laughed about the origins of the mystery powder, too. I whispered to myself, Made in “Chy-na”.
“About Her Given Name” by Kenzie Jennings: I have no clue wtf I just read, tbh. It’s something about a girl named Rose who had a “friend” named Clyde (a.k.a. “the giant”, a.k.a. “Mr. Bear”), who lived in a cabin, who used to work at an orphanage for histrionic little girls (from what I could tell), and he was brutally murdered, mutilated, and dismembered by some psychopaths who represented the orphanage, fast forward “TWENTY YEARS LATER” and I think Rose (a.k.a. Miss Northway, a.k.a. “Clyde” – because she took on his name) is seeking revenge, all the while also being hunted herself. Stuff happens, but there’s no story. Miss Northway is attacked twice at the Inn by characters whose motivations were a complete mystery to me, but it doesn’t matter because she is a ninja badass and just brutally murders them in a self-defense situation but still feels the need to bribe bystanders to make the bodies disappear without any fuss from the law or the owner of the Inn. The dialogue is painfully juvenile, and I’m not just referring to the little girls. I have no idea how this thing made it past the editor and got published in this anthology. At best, this is a jumbled mess of a rough draft that has potential to be developed into something, but it definitely is not a complete story as it stands in this collection. I would be embarrassed if I had a story published alongside whatever this thing is trying to be.
“The Night of El Maldito” by Ronald Kelly: A.k.a “El Noche de The Accursed” is both a simple yet fun creature feature and murder mystery about cattle being slaughtered by presumably a creature that only appears during a full moon. There’s a creative twist to this classic werewolf tale, and I appreciate the originality, but I also thought this story needed just a little more set up to keep it from going off the rails at the end. The red herring was obvious, and it was funny to me how Mateo just decides to conveniently leave the scene to go “pray” (because he allegedly does it best while alone) right when shit is about to hit the fan thanks to his doing, and Sam is just like, “Say one for me, while you’re at it.” Also, the cold-blooded nature of the cook didn’t really add up for me, even with his shoehorned backstory after the fact. Like wtf did the cattleman do to him? It sounded like he was greatly appreciated, to me, but apparently he had been a closeted racist psychopath the whole time and suddenly decided that he should spend the rest of his twilight years going on a rampage against all gringos (the dude is in his seventies)? Okay… lol, whatever. Sure.
“The Deviltry of Elemental Valence” by Edward Lee: The story begins in the year 2000 with a metalhead degenerate working under-the-table to dig up a grave and move a casket for a wealthy-looking doctor, who shows up unexpectedly during the job. The flashback to the year 1877, just before finding out what was in the casket, ramped up the suspense just enough to get me through the sloppy storytelling and schlocky splatterpunk shock value. It’s not what’s in the casket that’s as important as who the grave belonged to, which only served to further my suspicion that this bowel movement was the product of a half-baked idea that came to fruition within the span of a day - generic Lovecraftian pastiche.
“Old World Birds” by Drew E. Huff: Stream of consciousness doesn’t even begin to explain this fever dream. This “story” is a plotless experimental piece that follows a character nicknamed the “bird lady” (a.k.a. Iliana) who has a flock of sparrows living in her guts. Many fragmented sentences form the idiosyncratic prose of this work that, for all intents and purposes, seems to be some sort of metaphor about identity and body image. The only hint I gathered from the material was the concept of “Old World flesh” being “exterminated” by the “New World”, and a brief comment about the New World would someday “tolerate” the existence of “Old World bodies”. There’s some bizarre sexual content (make of it what you will), but essentially what we have here is mental illness made manifest through the page. It’s fascinating to experience the madness unfold, then put the book down, back away slowly, and try not to think about it too much. Surreal fiction is difficult to do well, because it basically becomes a Rorschach test in terms of critical analysis and trying to interpret the text, and I don’t do inkblots. I think it would be more entertaining to listen to the author as they explain what this work is/means, rather than make any attempt to figure it out for myself, because it’s literally just too gonzo for me (and I’ve read some wacky shit).
“Sedalia” by David J. Schow: I don’t know whose nephew this is or why his story about ghost dinosaurs appearing out of thin air and somehow creating physical havoc in a contemporary California setting made its way into this anthology focused on weird westerns, but I’m not impressed. I would say this is more of a weird Science Fiction story than anything resembling a Western, but I digress. The only thing that remotely made the piece a “western” was the reference to the T.V. show “Rawhide”, and that the narrative revolves around these characters who are drivers meant to somehow herd prehistoric entities the size of buildings away from the city, thanks to the help of a psychic that guides the group. The premise struck me with a degree of absurdity that you would expect from someone like a Kurt Vonnegut or like a Thomas Pynchon, fully equipped with the postmodern style prose – chock-full of introspective writing, pop culture references, and ADHD driven asides about local California car dealers and their infomercials and dreams/fantasies about Disneyland, and just casual commentary about Dino farts/poop. I am not a fan of this postmodernist literary style and the pretentious drivel these authors (using the term loosely) push into the world of literature. Not only does this work stick out like a sore thumb in this anthology due to the author (or the editor for that matter) not understanding the assignment, but it’s just trash storytelling. This entry makes a mockery of the craft, because it’s nothing but pages upon pages of filler and rambling with a bare-bones plot that I don’t even think a paleontologist could piece together and make any sense of.
(Exceptional)“Rope and Limb” by Jeff Strand: One of the shortest stories in the collection, but also one of the most memorable – about a bank robber set to be hanged but gets into an argument with the Mayor over the town’s primitive means of execution. The genuinely funny dialogue between Darius, the nitwit Mayor, and the townsfolk was like reading a sketch comedy script straight out of Monty Python’s Flying Circus. Darius keeps bringing up how a rival town is more technologically advanced with their gallows vs the tree & limb means of execution in Mayor Wasser’s town of Grassy Point. This prompts hilarious banter from the people of the small town, who chime in with comments about how the neighboring town seems to have better morale, which gets the Mayor all riled up. Wasser starts arguing with his own people about how their taxes are spent and making general excuses for skimping on a local carpenter to build a proper gallows for the execution. There’s a funny exchange in regard to the comment about the other town having a higher morale:
“Well… if they do, and I don’t think they do, it’s not because of their double twitch-up gallows!”
“He’s right,” said a man. “It’s because they have a much better whorehouse.”
The men all nodded and murmured their agreement.
“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Mayor Wasser. “The Grassy Point Pleasure Dome is the finest whorehouse for sixty-five miles! Those ladies will do things that would send our wives to the sanitarium...”
“Dread Creek” by Briana Morgan: This story is focused more on the horror elements than the western, but it does feature horses and a gang of outlaws, as they decide to stop and make camp for the night near a body of water with an ominous name. The foreshadowing isn’t exactly subtle here, and I really wasn’t surprised by the ending. The shock value from the imagery reminded me of “Cabin Fever” (2002). There was a little bit of a double meaning behind the dread, because the story centers on a couple of newlyweds and the possibility of infidelity among members of the gang. The source of “the sickness” is never explained, there’s just this generic sense of evil foreshadowed by the smell of “Sulphur” while they’re filling their canteens. I laughed when Jesse left his alleged friend for dead at the creek, but not before accusing him of fucking his wife when his friend said he wouldn’t abandon him if the roles were reversed. I was like, bro… should that really be on your mind at such a time? And we don’t even get a solid answer on the matter. It’s just Jesse assuming the worst of his friend and his wife. However, when the screaming occurred, and Jesse was searching for his guns that mysteriously went missing for some reason, Delilah did tell him that he needed to go check things out, instead of begging him not to go. So maybe she didn’t care about him all that much. I think this story could have reached its full potential if the plot had been fleshed out (pun intended) a little bit better to provide some answers that would have satisfied my curiosity as the reader – specifically surrounding the relationship drama, why/how are they outlaws, and the origin of the plague, but with that being said this is still far from being the worst thing I read in this anthology.
“It Calls” by Patrick R. McDonough: I imagine this kaleidoscope of “WTF DID I JUST READ?” is probably the product of someone who was writing while under the influence of Stephen King books and John Carpenter movies. There’s a woman named Constance and her daughter (Effie) in an isolated cabin where they are being terrorized by a “leviathan of light” that shot down from the sky. It makes the animals look and behave all weird. It has alien telepathy and has tentacles that can control people like a marionette. There’s no set up, no plot to speak of, and no noticeable character arcs. It is just a shit show of crazy imagery and stuff happening. I think the title gives away some of the inspiration behind this offbeat vignette, because it is essentially an amalgamation of moments taken from popular horror titles and reimagined for this odd piece of work. It is what “It” is, I guess. *shrugs
“Old Habits” by L.M. Labat: William faces a moral quandary when he realizes that his father, Dr. Lester (who is hailed as a hometown hero), is actually just a snake oil salesman grifting off the scarlet fever epidemic. The narrative begins by introducing the protagonist already in a state of fear and anxiety as he awaits his fate and relays his story in the form of a journal entry that serves as the primary framing device. There’s a supernatural element to the story that creates a kind of a gothic atmosphere, which I think goes well with the gaslight setting. In a nutshell, we’re talking one part family drama mixed with daddy issues, and one part run-of-the-mill ghost story with a benevolent twist. Aside from the use of profanity, I think this author showed the most restraint so far in terms of staying true to the emotional aspects of the narrative without feeling the need to mix in some gratuitous gore just for the sake of spicing shit up.
“Hungry” by Jesse Allen Champion: A labor encampment of Chinese railroad workers is mysteriously attacked by ravenous spirits, and the event spurs a quick history lesson about the Donner party. The term “gwai lo” was used thirteen times, and allegedly means “ghost man”, but apparently it’s also used as a pejorative by some Chinese in reference to Westerners. I could see that sentiment coming from immigrants living off rice, salted meat, and employed by whitey for a pittance while working on the railroad all the live-long day. It’s a pretty lame and contrived little story, and not much thought was put into the plot. Chan’s character was seen as an authority and acting doctor for the Chinese labor camp, but conveniently he’s also an expert on ghosts. In order to appease the hungry “ghosts”, according to the doctor’s logic, the Chinamen were ordered to sacrifice all their rations in a bonfire, and this is coming from the same character who calls the white man “barbarians”. Lol, okay.
“The Redheaded Dead” by Joe R. Lansdale: This story is a tribute to the memory of Robert E. Howard, and I could see the inspiration. Mercer is a jaded reverend who is constantly tested by God. His character goes through an internal battle of faith, but also an external battle with evil in the form of a vampiric creature that was intentionally unleashed courtesy of God’s “hand”. The narrative is fast-paced, and I thought the action was pretty easy to follow, but the continuity was questionable. The vampire creature had a neck long enough to sway its head around freely (like a serpent), but then when Mercer was struggling with the creature in the empty grave it somehow couldn’t reach him with its jaws while he was holding the demon back by its biceps. Also, there’s an awkward use of simile that went against the grain of the established tone that momentarily ripped me out of the story:
“Its body caught the tip of the rod and the point of it tore through the monster with a sound like someone bending too-quick in tight pants and tearing the ass out of them.”
Okay, Spongebob (lol). Anyways, I felt like I was reading a piece of “Solomon Kane” fan fiction or something, and the dedication beforehand is what made that apparent from the beginning. Not a bad example of pulp fiction, but basically just meant to showcase the author’s ability to write action scenes. I would say use simile sparingly and make your analogies somewhat relevant to what’s actually happening on the page. Making irrelevant comparisons, that may be accurate in a practical sense, can be jarring to read if it doesn’t make much sense within the given context. The vampire wasn’t even wearing pants.
“Seeking A Grave In Canaan” by Wile E. Young: Salem Covington is back in an all new splatter-western adventure that’s fun for the whole Mormon family. This story is a continuation from a series of books that started with “The Magpie Coffin”, and unless you’ve read that then there will be things about this story that probably won’t make sense. Why does Mr. Covington keep referencing a mysterious brand under his eye? Why does Mr. Covington’s gun talk to him? Why does Mr. Covington say “No gun could kill me”? When you are writing a standalone short that features previously established characters from a preexisting IP, you cannot rely on headcanon to fill in the plot holes. You need to come up with creative ways of quickly relaying the lore to the reader as if it is their first time experiencing the characters. Also, the discovery writing was painstakingly obvious in this one. One moment there’s an entire party of Mormons, and the next it’s just Salem, the sister-wives, and the boy; which begs the question, what was the point of assembling a search party in the first place if not but an arbitrary formality? It just seemed like the author was making shit up as he went along, but as soon as Salem’s character knocked the teeth out of the bartender’s mouth for simply refusing him service (as if that makes his character look badass) I knew this story was going to be lowbrow trash. When I feel like the author is just yanking my chain and stringing me along in whatever direction the wind blows without much rhyme or reason behind the plot, I kind of checkout mentally and just take whatever happens with a grain of salt (pun not intended).
#LFLR Indie Rating: 5/10
Out of sixteen total short stories I counted two worthy of praise and maybe a handful of honorable mentions that were either mediocre or had potential. The Afterword by the anthology’s lead editor, Patrick R. McDonough goes into detail about the process of bringing this project to light. Death’s Head Press is now an imprint of Dead Sky Publishing.
Out of sixteen total short stories I counted two worthy of praise and maybe a handful of honorable mentions that were either mediocre or had potential. The Afterword by the anthology’s lead editor, Patrick R. McDonough goes into detail about the process of bringing this project to light. Death’s Head Press is now an imprint of Dead Sky Publishing.
THIS BREAKDOWN IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE #LFLR NETWORK.
