Readin' and Writin'

Those of you who are fiction junkies like me will probably understand when I say that even under dire circumstances, the urge to read is still there. So it won’t come as any surprise to hear that I’ve been scrounging books off my in-laws’ shelves while we’re staying here. My attention span isn’t what it once was, but I’ve managed to read two books since we’ve been here.

A MURDERER AMONG US is one of Carter Brown’s novels about Hollywood troubleshooter Rick Holman (who might just be, one speculates, the illegitimate son of Dan Turner). In this case, however, even though Holman is working for a Hollywood producer, he’s off to the East Coast to find out who’s been trying to murder a movie star who wants to improve her image by appearing in a Broadway play. The book is full of eccentric characters, the style is as fast and breezy as always in a book by Carter Brown (really Alan G. Yates), and the plot has a twist or two more than usual. None of these books are more than light entertainment, but A MURDERER AMONG US functions pretty well in that role.

Archie Joscelyn, who also wrote as Al Cody and Lynn Westland, had a long, prolific career as a Western author. He was capable of turning out some good novels, like DOOMROCK and THE THUNDERING HILLS, but he was also very inconsistent, turning out a lot of bad books, especially late in his career. THE GUNHAND, published under the Al Cody name, is from 1966 and falls somewhere in the middle, although it tends toward the mediocre side. The story concerns a couple of down-on-their-luck cousins, one stalwart and good, the other somewhat shady. They find a gun that belonged to a famous outlaw, and its evil influence (Joscelyn was big on sinister, vaguely mystical objects) turns the more disreputable cousin all bad. There’s a stagecoach line owned by an old-timer who has a beautiful daughter (of course), a gang of desperadoes, assorted shoot-outs and double-crosses, and a plot with enough coincidences and contrivances for a dozen B-Western movies. Still, there’s a great scene at the end with a runaway stagecoach that almost redeems all the ludicrous plotting and bad writing. Almost. Don’t run out looking for this one. But despite that, I was still glad to have it on hand to read.

Today was the first day since the fire that I was able to sit down and spend most of the day writing. I was a little worried about how it would go. I’ve been able to do a couple of pages here and there but nothing really significant. I didn’t know if I still had it in me. I’m heaving a big sigh of relief now, because today’s output would have been a very good day even in our old place. I also made some notes about the part of the book that I lost, so maybe I can recreate it without forgetting too much of what I had done. Of course, it won’t be exactly the same – I’ve already changed a few things deliberately – but that doesn’t really matter. And best of all, it was still fun. Maybe I can do this after all.