First Line Today

I know that I said it'd be thriller's all year, but I tried to rationalize reading a western by Louis L'Amour by saying to myself that these were the progentitor of the modern thriller. Sadly, Lando might not have been the best foundation for a successful thriller. That being said here is the first line.

We Sacketts were a mountain folk who ran long on boy children and gun-shooting, but not many of us were traveled men. And that was why I envied the Tinker. 

When first I caught sight of him he was so far off I couldn’t make him out, so I taken my rifle and hunkered down behind the woodpile, all set to get in the first shot if it proved to be a Higgins. 

Soon as I realized who it was, I turned again to tightening my mill, for I was fresh out of meal and feeling hunger. 

Everybody in the mountains knew the Tinker. He was a wandering man who tinkered with everything that needed fixing. He could repair a clock, sharpen a saw, make a wagon wheel, or shoe a horse.

L'Amour, Louis - Lando (The Sacketts)

I read a lot of L'Amour books when I was a teen, but eschewed the Sackett's. I think it's an interesting range of characters that L'Amour invented, but I just never glomed onto them. I should have stayed away.

Morning's in Novels

Even more than my "First Lines" string of posts (see HERE) and my "Last Lines" string (HERE), my favorite posts are those that focus on quotes about Mornings (HERE).

Take a look. It's like suddenly seeing "Orange and Blue" in movie posters. Once someone tells you to look for quotes about the morning in novels, you'll see them everywhere and in every book. Dawn's are described as "slow" and "lumbering." The morning sky is the color of pearl. It's stunning how often authors like to discuss mornings.

Louis L'Amour is no different.

In  Reilly's Luck, Louis L'Amour has the mention of the word "morning" thirty-three times in this little book. But the quote that stood out is:

The sun came gingerly over the mountains, and the sky and the ranch yard were pale yellow. Pete looked at the mountains for smoke, but saw none.

L'Amour, Louis - Reilly's Luck

Gingers and pale yellow. The sun moved "gingerly" and Pete looks for smoke on the mountains. Not a huge, interesting morning quote, but also not nothing.

Go take a look, you'll see it everywhere now.

Another Old Friend

 As I have a month or so to walk down memory lane before my next class takes over my free time, and as I've already read a Dick Francis, and Lawrence Sanders novels, and as Louis L'amour was also an old fave of mine from when I was growing up, I might as well give him a quick go too. 

I've selected one that I'm fairly certain I have not read. I have read a tone of Louis L'Amour books, but he had what seems like thousands, so there's a good chance I have not read this one. Also, since the other day I discussed pulp art covers (see here), I went ahead and found the most pulpy I could and posted it first.

Second Sackett

Well, as I said earlier, I'm invovled in a lot of "series" books. Clancy, Griffen, etc etc. I'm also involved in Louis L'amour and his series on the Sacketts.

I've read a lot of Louis L'amour books in my life. I started reading them back when I was a tween and every now and then another will pop up. But I've never read the Sackett Series. 

Not Cottoning to Sacketts

As any even less than savvy reading could tell by the two previous posts on the subject (here and here) I did not like Lando by Louis L'Amour.

It wasn't like I was going into the book with pre-conceived notions of greatness. I've read enough Louis L'Amour books to know exactly what I'm getting into, the problem was that this one took quite a while to get into what it needed to. It was as if the entire first half or two thirds of the novel was all just a build up for the last third. That's okay if the first portion can stand on it's own, I don't think this one did. It was weak all the way up to the very end then it became trite and silly.

I never read The Sacketts. I like the fact that L'Amour was able to build an entire family from which to jump off on many stories throughout many eras, but I just never cottoned to em. This, . . . Lando . . . my first foray into The Sacketts did little to compel me to read more about em. Like I said, maybe there's a reason I always eschewed The Sacketts.

Those of you who read this blog often realize that not only am I firmly in the midst of a  first person point of view narrator reading binge (see here), but also I sometimes will throw a Louis L'Amour western just for kicks (here). Not only are they first person, but they offer a walk down memory lane for me, having read so many as a child. I was about to start a new Lee Child novel, for his Jack Reacher character so often reminds me of a L'Amour western (here), but I wanted to show Tucker (here) in first just to get in the right frame of mind.

WHEN I RODE up to the buffalo wallow pa was lying there with his leg broke and his horse gone.

L'Amour, Louis - Tucker

Short, sweet, to the point as far as first lines go. Not quite epic, but not bad either. Kinda what you expect to get from the rest of the book as well.

Always Good to Read and Old Friend

When I was in middle school I spent summers with my grandfather helping him at his bed and breakfast in the country. He was a huge fan of the half price books store in the little town near the place, and we would go into town for more books often. That little book store had a vast collection of Louis L'Amour novels and I started churning through them. Never got through them all, so now, when I'm hard up for a book to read, I'll turn to them.

I just finished Reilly's Luck and it was less than Louis' best book. The story by itself just wasn't that compelling. It started strong with a young boy being saved from being abandoned and killed. And the middle was decent, but the run up to the story and the end of the book were both things I'd rather just forget.

Still, as the title of this post suggests, it's always fun to go read books from an old favorite author. Old friends are always friends, right? So even a bad Louis L'Amour isn't so bad as long as he sticks with his strong points. At least the reader always knows what he's going to get.

One thing that continues to amaze me, especially as I work on my two works in progress, Sunset Perfect and Dev Palmer, is how prolific Louis was. When I do a quick look up of his bibliography I see over 188 separate novels. Here I am stuck on novel number 4 and he's spitting out 188. Even his worst probably better than mine.

Updated Heller with a Gun or Why Haven't I Read This Before Now

Last week I finished my first Lee Child novel, Die Trying (here), his second novel in his Reacher series. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It's astounding to me how many wonderful novels and novelists are out there that I don't know about! I don't mean to suggest that I should be the arbiter of novels, a clearing house before they hit the shelves, as if if I don't know about it then it shouldn't exist, but here's a book which I simply loved reading and it's been out there for over twelve years. I have some catching up to do.



As a teenager I spent summers with my grandfather at his bed and breakfast in the country. We took a weekly pilgrimage to the local half price book store to pick up books for the week and for a time I chewed through the stores selection of westerns. All of these resale book shelves have what seem like the same shelves, racks upon racks of Louis L'Amour books, usually several copies of each title. They were cheap, easy to read, and plainly written with bold, black and white characters. Die Trying reminded me of reading updated versions of those books. Jack Reacher is similar to any number of Louis L'Amour characters from Bowdrie to the Sackett's to Heller with a Gun. Drifters who have a past that includes deep experience, and steadfast morals. Instead of six shooters and horses Child has Jack Reacher use the latest military equipment including Barretts and Blackhawks.

Is it something that will make you look at the world differently? No. Is it fun and light? Yep. And I look forward to the next.

More Shorts

As I wrote before (HERE),  I like to read short stories before hitting the sack. There's the aspect of the "blue light" and sleep soundness, there's the relaxation and calmness that comes from reading, plus there's that feeling of completion at the end of the day of finishing a little story. 

Sadly, I'm a bit tired of Alfred Hitchcock stories, which is too bad cause I have about 200 of his books of short story collections on my bookshelf. So I went ahead and switched horses midstream. 

There It Is Again . . .

 . . . the ever-present description of "morning" (see all the other mentions here) This time I found it in Tucker by Louis L'Amour.

Twice during the endless night I woke up, once from the pain of my wound, another time from the cold. I felt sick and very tired, and when morning came at last, a gray, dull morning with slanting rain and lowering clouds , my mouth was dry, my head ached, and when I tried to stand I was weak and dizzy. But I knew I must move. If I stayed where I was, in the state I was in, I would surely die.

L'Amour, Louis - Tucker

Not half bad as far as all the morning descriptions go. I think one day soon I will compile them all into one large post so I can compare them.

Completely Complete . . . Sigh

My favorite authors when I was younger were probably Stephen King (here) and Louis L'amour (here). Stephen King is good a long, interesting yarns. Louis has that black, white, no moral relativism, man against man and nature story.

Once I hit my teens I think I fell in love with Dick Francis (here). Had never been to a horse race, but reading about his adventures around the horse racing world was spectacular to me. Also, I loved the way the story didn't necessarily have to do with racing, racing was sometimes tangential.

Then, later, as an adult, I ran across Archy McNally. What a fun character. But I ran out of them quickly and for more than a decade I was Lawrence Sanders-less.

It wasn't until just a few years ago that I did a bit of research and found out that Lawrence Sanders (here) wrote some much more gritty and more interesting detective stories with New York City as the backdrop. I fell immediately in love with them.

Sadly, I think I've read my last of these.

I just finished The Third Deadly Sin (here) and although it wasn't the best, I sure do love the way Sanders writes. I'll miss being able to read things like:

SOME DAYS LASTED FOREVER; some were never born. She awoke in a fury of expectation, gone as soon as felt; the world closed about. Once again life became a succession of swan pecks. 

Zoe Kohler, blinking, woke holding a saggy breast, soft as a broken bird. The other wrist was clamped between her thighs. She was conscious of the phlegmy light of late winter, leaking through drawn blinds.

Outside, she knew, would be a metal day, no sun, and a sky that pressed. The air would smell of sulfur. She heard traffic drone and, within the apartment house, the dull thumps of morning doors. In the corner of her bedroom a radiator hissed derisively.

Sanders, Lawrence - The Third Deadly Sin

So, now that I've read my last, I'll  be sad for a bit. But, it was serendipity that lead me to the Edward X Delaney series in the first place, perhaps a bit of serendipity will come again and I'll find some more.

Book Review of No Place for Mercy

I was eager to read No Place for Mercy by Brian G. Walsh because I've always been a fan of short stories, I grew up with Louis L'amour stories about Bowdrie (see here) and have read all of the short story anthologies of Alfred Hitchcock. Secondly, I've just published my own anthology of short stories and wanted to see how Walsh's stacked up to mine . . . . or mine stacked up to his.

They stack up well. 

Walsh has a way with words and phrasing. His analogies are vivid and compelling. His prose make the ready want to read on. This one about mistakes shaking you like a rag doll got me:

She smiled with nice, even white teeth, probably paid for by her pimp. A beautiful young girl, probably no more than 18. Some day she'd wake up and realize the true cost of making this life decision. She'd learn what Cleon had learned, that some mistakes never let go of you, they shake you like a rag doll until you break, but Cleon wasn't in a lecturing mood tonight.

A very good collection and I enjoyed it very much. 

More From a Nightmare in Pink

One of the things I love about Travis McGee novels by John D. MacDonald, is the simplicity of writing. It's direct and honest and quick. I have been accused of this as well (see HERE). And I'll happily accept that accusation/honor.

Some of the other authors I read who are similar include Louis L'amour - with his simple stories that are easy to follow and fun in a predictable way, Lee Child - Often times I find them a bit too simple (see HERE), but they're fun. Even Dick Francis has an economy about his writing and his stories that is fun and easy (see HERE).

Back Again

I have two more weeks to cram in some more fun reading (see here). I have class starting up again in two weeks . . . two classes actually, so I'll be back to writing more about adult learning then (see here). But until then I'm going to push hard to get in more leisure reading!

To that end I went back again to an old favorite. Milo Talon by Louis L'Amour, wasn't bad, but it also wasn't good. A bit of a puzzle in the plot arena. Fun characters and an easy read, but not exceptional. I can't remember if I've read this one before or not, but we shall see!

The Earl of October drove into my life in a pale-blue Holden which had seen better days. 

Westerns as Political Allegories

Anyone who reads this blog will know I have a little piece of my heart reserved for Louis L’Amour dime store westerns. I used to read them just for light fun. They’re great because there is no moral controversy. There’s a very clear line of wrong vs right. They’re a bit nonsensical and fantastic. They’re light and fun. 

The first one I ever read, I settled in for a good long novel, and instead I got a series of short stories. I didn’t know the Bowdrie novels were only short story pieces. I was hoping for a novel about the character. Still, they were great little ditties. 

Not Much Vocabulary . . . other than Abatises

Sadly there just aint that much compelling vocabulary in Lee Childs' Die Trying. Thankfully there is a very compelling plot and story line. That being said there were several great analogies and one word I had no idea existed.

Abatis - a line of defense consisting of a barrier of felled or live trees with branches (sharpened or with barbed wire entwined) pointed toward the enemy.

I've seen these, hell, I've even improvised one of these. Never knew that's what it was called.

These two I read, and then re-read cause I liked them so much. Just as much as I liked the train analogy from several days ago (here), I liked this one too.

"There was nothing happening. The whole place was deserted and silent. Quieter than silent. It had that total absence of sound that gets left behind when a busy place is abandoned. The natural sounds were long gone. The swaying trees cleared, the rushing streams diverted, the rustling vegetation burned off, replaced by clattering machines and shouting men. Then when the men and the machines leave, there is nothing left behind to replace their noise. Reacher strained his ears, but heard nothing at all. Silent as the moon."

Child, Lee - Die Trying

Then there was this one. I could just about see the prison door swinging shut in my mind's eye.

"He had learned a long time ago that to smoke while in hiding was not a smart thing to do. The smell drifts, and a keen nose can detect it. So he leaned on the tree and stared down in frustration. Stared at his shoes. They were ruined from the scramble up the north face of the ravine. He had jabbed them hard into the rocky slope and they were scratched to pieces. He stared at the ruined toe caps and instantly knew he had been betrayed. Panic rose in his throat. His chest seized hard. It hit him like a prison door swinging gently shut. It swung soundlessly inward on greased hinges and clanged shut right in his face.

Child, Lee - Die Trying

If you've never tried one of his books, they are worth a read. Remind me of a modern day western. I felt like I was fourteen again reading a Louis L'Amour novel.

Another First Line and Series

I won’t go through it again, except to say I like the first lines series (see HERE). It’s one of my favorite to keep in these posts, but they’re also, at the moment 

I like to read these books to allow my mind to rest and to enjoy reading again. They're fun and they're easy and quick. They're also a bit of a formula. 

Sorry

Sorry that I've taken some time off, but I've been busy moving. But! I'm back on the band-wagon and getting prepped for this year's Nano.

But before we get onto that, I have a first line.

I WAS ARRESTED IN ENO’S DINER. AT TWELVE O’CLOCK. I was eating eggs and drinking coffee. A late breakfast, not lunch. I was wet and tired after a long walk in heavy rain. All the way from the highway to the edge of town.

Child, Lee - Killing Floor 

Again, I say that these Reacher novels are modern day Louis L'Amour dime store novels. Having finished this second one, I'm standing behind that statement.

Vector First

Despite not really enjoying it as much as I hoped, I still finished it . . . it being Vector by Robin Cook. It took me back to summer days when I hung out with my grandfather on his Bed and Breakfast (see HERE) in Chappell Hill. 

We would go hit the resale book shop in Brenham and I'd buy novels. I'd buy Louis L'Amour books, Stephen King novels, whatever Sci-Fi and Fantasy books they might have. We, my grandfather and I, were voracious readers and would compete to see who could read the most and return the most books while we were there. I remember buying Robin Cook's there too. I guess as a young student, middle schooler and high schooler, he was fun to read. 

All That Middle Stuff

Although the first and last lines weren't bad, it was all that stuff in the middle that made me not like the book.

Looking down at them, I thought it was a strange trail they had followed, those three, and how in the end it had only come to this, to death in a dusty street, nobody caring; and by and by nobody even remembering, except by gossip over a bar in a saloon. 

Seemed it was just as well a man did not know where he was headed when he was to come only to this—a packet of empty flesh and clothes to end it all. In the end their hatred had bought them only this … only this, and the bitter years between. 

It always seemed that for me something waited in those western lands, something of riches in the way of land and living, and maybe a woman. And when I found her, I wanted her to be like Gin. 

Younger, of course, as would be fitting, but like her. 

Somebody likely to have no more sense than to fall in love with a Tennessee boy with nothing but his two hands and a racing mule.

L'Amour, Louis - Lando (The Sacketts)