#more of a focus on plot and characterizations than simply driving books forward

[oldfacesnewdawnoffical]

Ignite - A Dream of Destiny (Outline)

Google Docs version found [HERE]!

• Opens in a black-and-white fever dream-esque state, featuring a brutal scene between several cats at the edge of a river over a large expanse of smooth stones.

• Two specifically end up as the focus. After a while of back-and-forth fighting, one of them ends up victorious, slashing and clawing until their opponent crumples into the water.

• The victor lifts their eyes to meet the POV’s, and they are blue. A striking sight, the only color to be found within the entirety of the dream state.

• The POV makes a note that color has never been seen beforehand within “these sorts of dreams”.

• And then…

• Rust wakes with a start.

• After calming down and collecting himself, dismissing his dream as “one of many he’ll never see the outcome of” (+ an additional note that he’s had this specific dream several times in a row), he decides to walk around - as there’s little else to do in the ruins other than walk, scavenge, or interact with others.

• He does this part to set the theme and setting for the reader.

• He resides in a world ravaged by war and radiation, having long since been reclaimed by nature.

• The ruins specifically are the long-decayed remains of a human city, now claimed by nature and several animals.

• Eventually, he comes to the edge of the ruins, right on a border marked with a pile of debris and barbed wire to keep outsiders away. He just sits and watches for a while, ears pricked towards the sounds of the forest, feeling inexplicably drawn into it but hesitant to take that first step.

• He’s ultimately interrupted by Scourge: a cat who leads an organization known as “the Bloodbound” who controls and governs the ruins, and also personally looks after Rust specifically.

• He and Scourge tease one another for a while before a wolverine named Bone comes to fetch Scourge. He retreats, but not before leaving Rust with a message to pass to his adoptive father, Pine: “I know that he’s important to you, Rust, so I’ll give him a warning. He’s not welcome here. Tell him to stop testing my boundaries; I don’t want to make an example out of him, but I will if I have to.”

• Rust is uneasy, but he takes the message to Pine, tracing along the outskirts of the ruins until he’s closer to the softpaws-place, which is where Pine lurks. They spend some time together; Pine is far more jaded than Scourge, but also more outrightly warm and caring.

• He watches Pine hunt and tries to coax out a story from him about where he learned how to hunt so effectively, but Pine shuts him down. Rust delivers Scourge’s message, and Pine (who is distinctively elderly and short-tempered) snaps back that he’ll go where he pleases, and that Scourge doesn’t govern him.

• Rust, torn, then leaves to find Haggler, an ancient hound who runs a pseudo-gambling ring. He hangs out with her for a few days, occasionally stepping out to tag along with Frazzle, one of Scourge’s closest and most trusted companions.

• If he’s not with Haggler or Pine, he is with Scourge or Frazzle.

• This is because Rust is essentially Scourge’s unofficial heir, which in turn makes him a target for those who want to leverage more power for themselves.

• Some time passes. Various points are expressed:

• Scourge and Pine do not get along, on account of Pine being an ex-fealty cat and Scourge (+ the majority of the Bloodbound) holding a deep-rooted contempt for the forestfolk.

• Rust spends time with Haggler, exchanging prey (caught on the edges of the fealty territory) for stories, secrets, and rumors - specifically on Pine’s past, as the ragged ginger cat has grown increasingly more and more guarded about his origins, and increasingly more and more aggressive with Scourge and the Bloodbound.

• Rust worries for Pine. A lot.

• Rust is trained in combat by Frazzle!

• The Bloodbound heads dislike him immensely for the favor in which he is given.

• After even more time, Rust is fetched by Fury - one of the Bloodbound’s heads.

• Rust takes note of how Fury is usually a very hostile presence, eager for power and thrilled by bloodshed. He also takes note of how pleased and borderline gleeful she appears as she guides him from Haggler’s side.

• She takes him deep into the heart of the ruins, towards a makeshift arena where countless ruin wanderers, unaligned animals, and members of the Bloodbound have gathered.

• Rust is confused and scared, but he does his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

• Eventually, Scourge stands above them all, fully donned in all of his armor, and announces that this is what happens to transgressors, to those who deny the power of the Bloodbound…

• Frazzle seeks Rust out and tells him to stay put lest he displays any weakness. Rust is made to sit as a haggard, heavily injured Pine is dragged out and left in the arena… alongside one of Scourge’s captive archfiends.

• He watches in horror as Pine is publicly executed, slaughtered, and torn to shreds by the archfiend as the Bloodbound howls their approval. He looks up to Scourge, standing high above it all, face entirely impassive. He did this. What’s to say he won’t do it to me if I disobey him as Pine did?

• Frazzle continues to urge him to stay; if Rust leaves, or looks away, he’ll be chased down as the Bloodbound take such executions like this very seriously. Any sign of disapproval from anyone watching is grounds of being dragged down into the arena themselves.

• But Rust rips himself away, horrified and traumatized, body wracked with sobs. Even as he hears those sitting closest to him turn after him, snarling and hollering, sensing his weakness and eager to take advantage of it.

• He runs away, ultimately finding himself at the barricade between stone and forest, and launches himself over it, following along the edge of the trees until they part upon a stretch of dark, jagged rock. He knows whoever is chasing after him won’t follow him into the claimed forestlands; Scourge’s distaste of the valley extends deep into those he rules over.

• He races over the jagged rock, so blinded by horror and rage that he loses his footing and falls, slicing his leg open on one of the sharper, black rocks. The pain is blinding, but he somehow manages to scramble off of the path and into a forest; his leg pours blood, buzzing with agony. It’s difficult to move, difficult to breathe, difficult to see…

• He staggers and finally falls, slumping against the roots of a great, grand tree, bigger than any he had seen just from the edges of the forest… and descends into a world of darkness.

• Dream state v.2 (electric boogaloo).

• A strictly black-and-white sequence of horrific images:

• Infection claiming lives at horrifyingly breakneck speeds.

• Small animals being snatched and dragged across stones.

• Blood being spilled over dark, jagged rock.

• And images of Pine, being torn apart in the many jaws of the archfiend that took his life.

• After what feels like an eternity, yet merely heartbeats all the same, Rust forces his eyes open - and immediately freezes. He finds himself in the depths of a cool den, with its walls painted with various symbols and scenes, with carved shelves lined with seemingly hundreds of herbs, and a large, fluffy, pale cream-gray figure sorting through them.

• Rust warily rises to his paws and bolts out of the den, panic pumping him full of adrenaline and making him deaf to the other cat’s pleas for Rust to wait. As soon as he pushes his way outside, though, he is suddenly gripped and blinded by agony that makes him cry out and slump to the ground.

• The cat in the den rushes out to try and help him, gentle and kind but clearly worried.

• “Don’t push yourself so hard so soon! You’re recovering well - miraculously, in fact - but you won’t survive if you just rush out like that…”

• Rust is just about to submit and follow her, bone-tired, before he freezes up, realizing that he’s stumbled into the heart of a camp filled to the brim with cats who are all looking straight at him. Some wary, some curious, but all of them staring and making his heart pound.

• He hears some kittens loudly ask a golden tortoiseshell if that was “the loner dragged in last moon”; the molly quickly shushes them. The realization of how much time has passed makes Rust’s fur prickle.

• A lean gray colorpoint climbs to the top of a stone spire and calls to “Purrheale Featherwhisker”, remarking how their “guest” is finally awake. The fluffy cat that Rust presses himself against for balance dips their head respectfully and agrees, stating that he woke shortly ago.

• Rust does not follow the senior cat’s respectful gesture and glares up at the molly that stands well above everyone else. Instead, he grits his teeth against the pain and snarls: “Where am I? Who are you? Scourge won’t take kindly to you taking me hostage!”

• Despite it being Rust himself bringing up Scourge’s name, it still sparks some panic within him that he desperately tries to smother.

• The molly is intrigued, if not a little shocked by Rust’s sharp tone; Rust takes note of the flicker in her gaze with a flash of satisfaction. She answers easily enough: “I am Rhema Rainfall, orator and leader of the Woodruff faction. You’re not a hostage, young one; you were found on the cusp of death. We took you in to save your life.”

• A calico shoulders her way to the front of the crowd. Her pelt is heavily decorated, cats easily part before her, and she carries herself with an air of superiority. Rust instantly decides that he dislikes her.

• “I was the one who found you,” she says, proudly. Her gaze glitters, uncomfortably keen and appraising. “I had a vision, sent by the stars! A flame would come to guide us through a coming darkness… and you’ve come, just as I have predicted!”

• The crowd around her murmurs and shifts, uncertain and suspicious, but some hopeful.

• Rust fluffs out his fur. “Dunno’ if you’ve noticed, bitch, but I’m a cat. Not fire.” (Or… insert some other dry commentary here cause’ this sounds like the comeback of a 9 year old trying to be tough…)

• Shock flares from the calico, and Rust takes note of it with a sense of satisfaction. Before she can speak again, though, another cat marches forward: a mostly fawn torbie.

• “What, an outsider?” She snaps. “There’s no way the stars would ever send an outsider to guide us! Just look at him! He came to us in need of our help! He’s no fire!” She flexes her claws and stalks forward. “I’ll prove it.”

• A few cats murmur eager approval to this statement. Particularly: Minktail, Tanglethroat, Yewstripe, Mousesnap, Patchedpelt, Cherrystorm, Robinwhisker, and Jackdaw.

• Alarm flares white-hot within Rust, and he frantically looks between Rainfall and Featherwhisker, uncertain and still heavily in pain. Rainfall just looks contemplative, her expression guarded, but a smaller dark tortie at her side looks horrified and enraged.

• “Sand!” The tortie snaps. Rust’s challenger flinches. “Enough! This is no way to treat a guest of our faction!” He falters as Rainfall’s tail flicks over his paws.

• “No.” She muses. “If Sand wishes to challenge the legitimacy of Spottedleaf’s vision, she may. Unless, of course, our guest is not yet recovered enough to face her.”

• That lights a challenge within Rust. He limps forward, shaking off Featherwhisker, still unused to the pain flaring up his side from his left hind leg, and bares his teeth at Sand.

• They fight.

• Even with Sand’s age and advanced combat skills taught in the fealty, Rust grew up within the Bloodbound and he fights dirty.

• He ends up tearing one of Sand’s ears.

• Rust ends up victorious!

• As he stands back, triumphant, a beam of sunlight slides over his fur, lighting up the tufts of brilliant red that speckle his coat, and highlighting the blood that drips from his maw. The faction is silent, in awe, before Spottedleaf speaks, her voice shrill with excitement:

• “Our fire is here!”

• Rust then proceeds to pass out, overcome by agony.

• No dreams this time! Just a blissful state of blank unconsciousness.

• Rust wakes a few days later to a slight commotion. Featherwhisker is gone, replaced by a skittish dark-furred cat with three eyes. He confronts the newcomer, who immediately whirls around, panicked; Rust awkwardly adjusts his tone.

• The newcomer introduces themself as Raven.

• “Its the Gathering tonight… oh, um… you probably don’t know what that is. Uhm, Purrheale Featherwhisker was needed somewhere else, b-but she’ll be back!”

• Rust shifts in his nest. “Uh… Kay’. Why are you here, then?”

• Raven flinches. “I was training under her for a little while… I’m the second most knowledgeable in herbs. I-I figured I could watch over you until she got back, be useful… I didn’t expect you to wake up…”

• The two continue to talk. Slowly, Raven becomes more at ease, and Rust finds an odd sense of comfort in him.

• Some talking points:

• Rust asks more about the faction.

• Raven asks how Rust was driven into Woodruff territory, leading to a PTSD flashback of Pine’s death that he manages to shake off.

• Sand is mentioned; Raven says how she’s pissed at having been beaten and injured by an outsider. Featherwhisker left her ear untended as punishment for attacking an injured cat, only giving her necessary herbs to fight infection and nothing for the pain.

• Rust finds some interest in faction life as he asks Raven about certain cats: Featherwhisker, Spottedleaf, Sand, Rainfall, etc. Rust asks after Spottedleaf, specifically - mostly, about her weird “fire” ramblings. Raven awkwardly explains that Spottedleaf is their augur, and as they’re recovering from famine, she’s been especially keen on trying to find anything from the stars that might help them. Rust is a little weirded out by this but mostly he’s just kind of “uh… kay’. Cool. Wtf does that have to do with me?” Raven shrugs.

• Shyly, Raven offers to show him around the camp while it's not quite so crowded - so long as Rust is up to it, of course. Rust is, of course, up to it.

• The camp is mostly empty, with a majority of cats had gone to the Gathering. Most of the cats are asleep, which strikes Rust as somewhat odd, but a few stragglers are awake. Cherrystorm greets Raven with a flurry of signs, but glares at Rust; a mound of gray fur (Brindleface) turns their head to follow Rust from where they lay beside a den of carefully woven brambles thick with blackberries and thorns; a younger colorpoint cat (Jackdaw) fiddles with an unfinished toy made of twigs; etc.

• Rust is introduced to Bear, who woke up as soon as Raven tried to show Rust the inside of the den (after a glaring match with Jackdaw). Raven tried to apologize and backpedal, but that just led to Bear springing up and peppering Rust with attention and questions.

• “Your leg scars are so cool!! It's so awesome you were able to get back up off the darkpath!!!”

• “Your fur is weird looking!!! But in a nice way!”

• “Will you be staying? Are you gonna leave after you’re feeling better?”

• Etc. Note that Bear is like,, the equivalent of a young teenager with MASSIVE amounts of ADHD. Dude is bouncing off the walls and just excited to meet someone new.

• Rust just stammers and backs away, overwhelmed. Raven apologizes meekly for not asking Bear to take it easy, and explains that Bear is just excited because his official naming ceremony was shortly after Rust arrived - he thinks the two occurrences are linked.

• Rust is intrigued by the mention of a “naming ceremony”, but he doesn’t press, sensing that Raven is even more overwhelmed than he is.

• Exhausted, Raven guides Rust back to the den. Rust is happy he’s seemingly made a friend in this skittish cat, and sheepishly asks if Raven would be willing to stay in the allay’s quarters until Featherwhisker returns. Raven beams and scraps together their own little nest to sleep near Rust’s side.

• Small time skip to a few weeks after Raven and Rust’s little friendly friends friend time.

• Rust is recovering nicely! Featherwhisker instructs him on how to do daily exercises and physical therapy (Rust hates physical therapy. Just like Spotty), he’s made fast friends with Raven, and he’s slowly warming up to being in the faction.

• Rainfall and Spottedleaf are watching him. Very closely. The entire faction is watching him, really, but he takes note especially of how those two always seem to be making mental notes of his every move.

• Spottedleaf also tries to talk to him, a lot. He dislikes her, gets the heeby jeebies from her, and tries to avoid the weirdo religious fanatic lady who bragged about dragging an injured stranger off the side of a road to said injured stranger.

• Rainfall, however, keeps her distance. Rust sees her a lot with Sand, and with the cat who called Sand out initially. While Rainfall appraises him coolly, Sand shoots him a lot of death glares.

• Bear brings his first catch to Rust. The cat overseeing his training, Fritillaryheart, is incredibly friendly; Rust likes them. He’s also somewhat touched by Bear’s eagerness to share such a milestone with him, even if they’re both a little awkward about it.

• Rust also notes, though, how self-serving Bear is. He chalks this up to Bear’s youth, energy, and easy excitement.

• Rust hears about Jackdaw from Raven. Jackdaw is the black sheep of the faction who sticks to his own company primarily, and his glares are similar to Sand’s, though in a more curious way. Raven always talks about him with a note of sadness in their voice. Rust doesn’t press on it.

• He also takes note of a massive, impressive cat with talons for forepaws. Raven is incredibly intimidated by her due to her power and her status as one of the most powerful cats within the valley; her name is Laurelstorm. Rust and Laurelstorm have a mini staring contest before a ginger tabby comes and draws her attention.

• Rust is eventually pulled to the side by Mottledtail, who introduces himself officially as the faction’s liaison - their second in command. Rust is immediately reminded of Brick and Bone, but he shoves the thoughts away.

• Mottledtail cuts right to the chase: Spottedleaf claims that Rust is the fire of her vision. Rainfall wishes for more bodies in the wake of a recently passed cruel season. Featherwhisker is almost ready to check off Rust’s recovery.

• “I won’t try and pressure you to stay. But… I will ask that you consider it. You’re wanted here, you know.”

• That almost makes Rust cry. Never has he really been told he’s been wanted anywhere, or by anyone.

• Rust promises to think about it. Mottledtail smiles warmly and awkwardly pats Rust’s shoulder.

• After some thought, watching Raven talk nervously with Mottledtail, watching Bear bounce around Willowpelt, watching Rainfall look over her cats with a sense of subtle pride and a legitimate warmth… plus the fact that he was quite literally chased out of the ruins… Rust’s decision comes easily enough.

• In honor of his decision to stay, Rainfall renames him “Fire”. The newly named tom is very hesitant to accept the name.

• In “celebration” of his acceptance into the faction, and to push Fire a little with his new limitations, he’s invited to the Gathering. Bear comes along, but Raven stays behind; the crowds and noise aren’t good for them. That description makes Fire a little nervous, but one of the other cats (Brindleface) steps up to soothe him and explain.

• They explain what the Gathering is, who the other factions are, and who leads them.

• Spottedleaf brushes her aside and takes Brindleface’s place, crowding into Fire’s space. His ears flatten but she doesn’t seem to notice.

• She boasts about how she is one of two augurs, herself and Sors Dreamtongue of the Fenland. She’s just that important!

• She rattles on further about how weak the other factions are, how the Woodruff is leagues above all of them, especially now that they have the fire to guide them.

• Her tone makes Fire uncomfortable, but he’s rescued by Laurelstorm, who snaps at her until she leaves.

• Fire sheepishly thanks the powerful molly, who just hums softly.

• “Its not a problem, kit. Spottedleaf has a tendency to talk too much and not read her room. She just needs somebody to knock some silence into her at times.”

• Fire notes that Laurelstorm didn’t address Spottedleaf by her “Sors” title.

• They arrive at the Gathering site, and Fire’s breath is stolen by the beauty of it. Covered in greenery and lit up by countless fireflies, bordered by color and flowers.

• Laurelstorm sticks to Fire’s side, and her presence is somewhat soothing for him.

• The other wards that came along (Bear, Jackdaw and Sand) all go in their separate ways, though Jackdaw does slink after Sand, leveling a glare at Fire while Sand just ignores him.

• They all settle with various cats, but Fire is invited to stay by Laurelstorm’s side - which he takes up.

• Yewstripe follows; Fire takes note that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Yewstripe not in Laurelstorm’s shadow. Minktail also follows, and he and Fire get into a back-and-forth sharp meaningless bickering match until Laurelstorm cuts them off.

• Laurelstorm settles with some cats who smell of rushing, clean water and fish. She introduces them to Fire as Sunningstrike and Fogtongue of the Riverward, and introduces Fire to them in turn as the Woodruff’s newest ward.

• Sunningstrike glares a little at him but says nothing.

• Fogtongue is Bear 2.0: brash, excitable, touchy. The whole works. He eagerly points out his own orator - his father, Crookedstorm. He says this with a note of pride in his voice; Sunningstrike rolls her eyes.

• Later, they’re joined by the Moorsweeper Morningwhistle, who in turn drags Onewhisker over; he’s a newly named supporter. (She wants him to have more friends) He and Fire hit it off after some initial awkwardness; he’s also friendly with Minktail, who later wanders off with Mousesnap and Skipperstripe.

• For a while, the three factions exchange pleasantries.

• The orators settle themselves upon a great, jutting stone while the cats below mingle and laugh with one another.

• Some of the Riverwardens settle in a corner and make music.

• More cats settle at the center of the grand clearing to swap items, give gifts, or exchange stories.

• The casual aura of the evening fills Fire with a sense of rightness.

• The last to arrive to the Gathering are the Fenlanders, who are led by a heavily-decorated golden cat with a gleam in his eyes.

• Immediately, the whole of the Gathering is murmuring. It breaks out into something far more outraged as the golden cat strides up to sit with the orators, and a siamese-marked cat sits with the liaisons.

• Tense, Fire asks what’s going on.

• Laurelstorm answers: thats Sors Dreamtongue, the Fenland’s augur.

• “Whatever game he’s playing, I hope he knows he’s not walking away from this without upsetting many…”

• The black-and-white orator asks lowly what Dreamtongue is doing. Dreamtongue announces that he has become the orator in the wake of his mother’s death. The crowd breaks into shouts, but Dreamtongue calls for silence.

• He announces that, as per Fenland custom, he shall succeed his mother. He is the next in line for the title, his blood is just as powerful as Raggedclaw’s (if not more so!), and him being an augur does not change this nor will “he allow it to limit him”.

• While Fire doesn’t fully understand, he can clearly tell that this isn’t right, and that it's upsetting many.

• Magpietail protests, but Dreamtongue whirls around on him, eyes glittering. Fire digs his claws into the ground as a shiver washes over him.

• “You should have the least to say! My mother was found on your lands! I had hoped I needn’t expose the bloodthirstiness of you Moorsweepers tonight, but yet, here we are!”

• The crowd explodes again.

• Onewhisker growls at a Fenlander who inched closer. Laurelstorm puts Fire behind her and looms over the Fenlander until they back off, though she eyes Onewhisker warily - and keeps Fire away from him.

• Fire is horrified and gladly stays away from Onewhisker after that. The thought of a brutal murder taking place within the fealty’s valley, the place he ran to in order to escape the blood-stained streets of the ruins while they reside under Scourge’s rule… It shakes him.

• The Gathering is short after that.

• Magpietail and Dreamtongue snarl in one another’s faces for a while; Crookedstorm breaks it up.

• The Moorsweepers and Fenlanders claim opposite sides of the Gathering space.

• Dreamtongue announces that while he will become an orator, he will not stop being augur. He will be taking the title “Rhema-Sors” from here on out.

• Rainfall calls the Gathering early.

• For the next several days, the camp is buzzing. It's obvious that Dreamtongue’s claim was incredibly controversial, but no one knows exactly how to handle it.

• Fire, meanwhile, has been at Featherwhisker’s side. Not only is Featherwhisker the main overseer for Fire’s physical therapy and various exercises, Fire has also taken an acute interest in the herbs which they manage. Watching various cats come and go, watching Featherwhisker care for them, knowing how skilled he must be as a healer… Fire admires him greatly.

• Occasionally, Spottedleaf pops up and messes with Fire. Trying to get him to admire her in turn, raving about how important Fire is and how important she is in turn. Mottledtail and Laurelstorm individually shoo her away more than once, and Fire is invited to train with Mottledtail and Raven a few times. Fire always wins the combat training, but due to the fact that he never learned to hunt prior to fealty life, alongside his balance being somewhat thrown by his injury, he’s a poor hunter.

• It's during one of these training sessions that Fire catches wind of an odd scent and follows it. The scent is that of illness, and it's clinging to a scraggly gray tortoiseshell.

• After briefly interrogating her, Fire’s empathy outweighs his suspicion and he calls for Mottledtail and Raven’s help. The three of them guide the sick molly back to the Woodruff’s camp, where she introduces herself as Chanterellefang.

• She starts to call herself “Purrheale” but cuts herself off with a snarl.

• She’s presented to Rainfall, who asks (coldly) why a Fenlander is trespassing on their territory, especially so soon after Dreamtongue has made such bold claims against the Moorswept.

• Chanterellefang explains that she is desperate; Fire takes a note of how hesitant she seems to admit that. Rainfall clearly sees it too. She goes on to explain how the Fenland is suffering under Dreamtongue’s rule, and how, recently, they’ve not only taken in a large number of unaligned to bolster their ranks, but they’ve also driven out the Moorswept. The moors are soaked with blood.

• The entirety of the Woodruff is horrified by this, but some are more suspicious than others.

• Mousesnap challenges her words, saying that no one could possibly drive out one of the fealty’s factions. Its unheard of! Minktail and Skipperstripe back her up.

• Yewstripe snarls that Chanterellefang must just be a spy who was unlucky enough to get caught, and was scrambling for a cover story. Cherrystorm grunts her agreement.

• Speckledclaw grumbles about Dreamtongue’s reign, and how the stars must be displeased if they allowed anyone, let alone an augur, do such a thing - if Chanterellefang’s words are even true.

• Fire looks to Laurelstorm, and then to Featherwhisker, hesitant. Laurelstorm is impassive, contemplative. Featherwhisker looks as though she is itching to leap to Chanterellefang’s side to ease her clear suffering.

• Rainfall calls for silence. Chanterellefang is taken prisoner, and Fire blurts out that she needs medicine; she’s clearly sick. Unimpressed with his outburst, Rainfall instructs Fire to care for her, which Fire reluctantly agrees to.

• He spends some time with Chanterellefang, borrowing herbs to offer her.

• She reminds him so much of Haggler that his chest aches.

• They spend the remainder of that day together, with Fire challenging anyone who so much as glares at the haggard, exhausted, desperate molly now under his care.

• As the day slips into night, Chanterellefang becomes more active, and Fire does in turn; he hasn’t quite grown used to the Woodruff’s dinural ways.

• The two talk and grow surprisingly close in just a few hours. As they settle down to sleep, as Chanterellefang needs rest, Fire hesitantly tucks himself against her side to soothe her chill and keep track of her breathing.

• As he sleeps, Fire dreams.

• Another black-and-white dream.

• This time, its of the Moorswept Massacre, as it will later be called.

• The Fenlanders (+ company) brutally rip the Moorsweeper’s home to shreds. Ruining their gardens, dismantling traps, crippling their way of life. They return later, in a wave like a tsunami, and destroy the Moorsweeper’s current camp directly.

• Cats are murdered. Kittens are stolen. Magpietail falls. And above them all, Dreamtongue’s golden head is raised proudly.

• Fire wakes with a start; Chanterellefang shook him awake.

• Later, Fire goes to Rainfall to tell her that he believes Chanterellefang is telling the truth. Rainfall presses as to why, which leads to Fire admitting that, on occasion, he sometimes receives dreams that guide him on safer, better paths.

• Rainfall’s eyes glitter, but she thanks Fire and sends him on his way. He loiters with Raven and Bear for a while. He and Jackdaw get into a fight, with Sand coming to back Jackdaw up. The fight fizzles out on its own.

• Rainfall sends Chestnutfur and Willowpelt to the Fenland in an effort to collect information and send “good graces” to Dreamtongue. Only Willowpelt returns. Cherrystorm is distraught, fearing the worst, and hangs in the healer’s quarters for a long time.

• Eventually, Spottedleaf, Featherwhisker, Mottledtail, and Rainfall sit Fire down to interrogate him about his dreams. He awkwardly does his best to explain them, how they lack any sort of definitive detail and moreso rely more on Fire’s own feelings to interpret later when he wakes. Their “meeting” dissolves with only Fire feeling uneasy to show for it.

• Sand glares daggers at him.

• Illness strikes, carried from Chanterellefang. Mapletail and Robinwhisker succumb to it.

• Fire is stricken by the amount of such heavy loss that has struck the faction.

• He takes note of Laurelstorm’s behavior, how she suddenly becomes incredibly reserved, avoiding Fire, speaking in low, hushed tones to the likes of Yewstripe.

• More than once, Fire catches glimpses of her eyes, and how cold they are.

• Like Scourge’s.

• “Her eyes gain a glaze that he’s seen before in the colder gaze of Scourge”.

• Another Gathering occurs. Fire stays behind this time to care for Chanterellefang.

• When the party returns, gossip spreads like wildfire through the camp.

• Dreamtongue caught wind of Chanterellefang being within the Woodruff, and demanded her back.

• Bear looks especially guilty and stricken; he was the one who spilled the rumor to a few young Fenland wards.

• Rainfall refuses his demands and makes him confess to the Moorswept’s fate.

• He also confesses to the death of Chestnutfur, who he viewed as a threat, as Chestnutfur held no Fenland blood and acted with hostility.

• Rainfall calls Chanterellefang to her den. The two talk, but neither let Fire in on exactly what about.

• In the morning, just as the sun is breeching the sky, the Fire Nation (the Fenland) attacks.

• It is brutal.

• The nursery and allay’s quarters are targeted.

• Chanterellefang is attempted to be dragged out by several Fenlanders (+ company, PLUS some of mindless redwinged hawks that were stolen from the Moorswept). Chanterellefang refuses to leave and fights with the Woodruffians.

• Spottedleaf flees the camp, panicked.

• Mottledtail is targeted, but Laurelstorm comes to his aid before Fire loses sight of them both.

• Fire ends up grappling with Dreamtongue himself, who loses pitifully to him until Chanterellefang rushes to Fire’s side.

• Dreamtongue is overjoyed, begging at his mother’s paws to return to him, be happy with him, that he could keep her safe in the Fenland-!

• She slashes him across the face, and across the eyes.

• His bloodcurdling screams are seemingly a sign of the Fenland’s retreat.

• The death count in the aftermath is devastating:

• The kitten Duranta sustained heavy injuries having been ripped from his mother.

• Featherwhisker is found dead, having been protecting the herb stores.

• Mottledtail was murdered, his body found in the shadows of the orator’s quarters.

• Spottedleaf is missing.

• Elmheart is also found dead, alongside Nettlewhisper.

• It takes days for the faction to recover.

• Dreamtongue is holed up in the historian’s quarters, with the two remaining historians (Dappledfur and Tanglethroat) being moved to the nursery. He is now blind, and a prisoner.

• The whole camp reeks of blood and grief. Sand especially is horrified, and when Fire comes to grieve with her over Mottledtail, she doesn’t push him away.

• Sand is given her full name, Sandstorm, in honor of the ferocity with which she fought in such a devastating battle.

• Fire tells Rainfall that he will be the faction’s new allay. She is incredibly hesitant and resistant, but he’s dug his heels in, and she ultimately breaks.

• She hastily names him Firefall, after herself, and for his “graceless fall into the position”. He’s even less enthusiastic about this name change than the first.

• He, Chanterellefang, and Tanglethroat prepare the bodies for their funerals.

• Firefall specifically takes over preparing Mottledtail’s for burial.

• As the book comes to a close, he takes note of the wounds in Mottledtail’s throat. How they weren’t made by cat claws, but by talons - evidenced as to Firefall knowing what raptor wounds look like due to the number of vultures having lurked within the ruins, alongside Scourge’s own paws sporting talons.

• He’s confused, horrified, and as the book closes, he looks up to watch Laurelstorm across the clearing, conversing deeply with Yewstripe, licking her talons clean…

END

Time Elapsed: 5 moons

[bigskydreaming]

Hey, any comic recs to ensure that I get Dick Grayson character right? Other batfam included, if you're willing. I'm trying to make sure I don't write a character completely ooc, because that drives me up the WALL when I read that. However, since I dubbed you the #1 Dick Grayson person, I thought I'd ask you to make sure I do him justice rather than a smear campaign or something lol! Thanks! ALSO TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT THE TITANS SHOW! That's all xD

LOL thanks I appreciate it, but while I’m good for the rants, for actual comics recs I would go to the likes of @northoftheroad, @hood-ex, and @nightwingmyboi because they’re a lot better than I am at knowing where to find specific stuff and comprehensive reading lists! I tend to jump all over the place in terms of my go-to comics for Dick.....I’m always on about Robin: Year One but I’m like eh Nightwing: Year One is pretty trash tbh. I prefer pre-Flashpoint continuity overall but I did enjoy some of the early Nightwing Rebirth stuff and before that the pre-Forever Evil New 52 stuff had some good beats. But for the most part, my favorite Dick Grayson tends to be him as a member of teams like the Titans....he shines most in ensembles, I think, because his strengths ultimately are that like...he gets people, he knows how people work, and he knows how to get the most out of the people he’s with, how to make people gel and get in sync and become more than just the sum of their parts.

(Speaking of nightwingmyboi, haven’t seen them posting in awhile, anyone know what they’re up to? Hope everything’s okay!)

Which brings me to the problems with the Titans show. There’s a lot I like about it - Anna Diop and Ryan Potter in particular - and a lot I was never gonna like about it - I’m heavy on the Ugh why must Dick Grayson be a cop ever why is that a thing make it stop. And so while I don’t think Brenton Thwaites does like, a bad job with the role or anything, there was always kinda a ceiling on how attached to or invested in his take on the character I was ever gonna reach.

But Season 2. Oof. Let’s talk about Season 2, and how so many of the problems with it are identical to the problems that surround Dick in the comics, but also aren’t limited to just his character or DC and just as equally show up in all kinds of media. Like, I could have (and probably did) offer an identical rant about the role of Scott McCall in TW’s S5.

The problem is one I’ve kinda taken to calling in my head “The Ensemble Lone Wolf Effect.”

This is when writers have a character they nominally want to be part of an ensemble....but that they repeatedly go back to the well of “this character should however spend most of their time on their own, or are more natural on their own, or just wants to be on their own, or also sometimes they just deserve to be on their own cuz they suck for Reasons we decline to specify.”

But its that thing of wanting it both ways....believing a character honestly NEEDS to be a loner or off on their own for the sake of their story, but also still wanting to utilize them as part of an ensemble, not willing to actually MAKE them a solo character, and so it kinda creates this never-ending feedback loop wherein they pay lip service to the character being part of an ensemble, but that’s never really on display, which creates a lot of unnecessary conflict among characters that’s to NONE of their benefits.

(And honestly in the comics, you could apply this to pretty much all the Batfam at times...not just Dick. They do it with Bruce ALL the time, they’re doing it with Damian right now, did it with Tim with Red Robin, Jason most of the time he’s not with the Outlaws and Cass most of the time she’s not with Babs or Steph or the Outsiders. As well as Babs herself at times).

Basically what I’m talking about here is like....so much of the drama in S2....and specifically the parts that most every fan I saw had issues with....came about not organically, because it made sense for the characters to behave that way, but solely in order to launch a specific plot, that the writers clearly wanted for S2:

And that was Dick Grayson off on his own, at his lowest, facing his demons on a solo journey of self-discovery the writers clearly deemed necessary before he could find himself as Nightwing and rise to his most heroic self.

Now the thing is....this isn’t inherently a bad plot or a problem. The problem lies in how they went about it.

Because rather than looking at the overall story and saying okay, that’s what we want to do with Dick Grayson, that’s what we want for HIS story, now how do we get that and where do we take it from there, rather than looking at that as just a STARTING point, and engineering a plot that grows OUT of that.....

The writers just started out by viewing that as an ENDPOINT, and reverse engineered a way to get Dick TO that point first and foremost....at the expense of so many characters who then basically turned on him and held him solely responsible for the things many of them also had a hand in....purely to get him off on his own and isolated.

But that was never necessary!

Because Dick’s character contains multitudes when it comes to guilt and self-blame, everyone knows that. He never needed anyone else to blame him for what happened to Joey because he blamed himself. So the second they conceived of the plot “Slade wants revenge for something Dick at least blames himself for”.....they had all the ingredients needed for Dick to decide proactively that the best way to protect everyone was to put distance between him and them, that he should try and hunt down Slade on his own, solve this between just the two of them.

And that should have been the STARTING point, for that narrative journey of self-exploration, not that journey resulting as an ENDPOINT in and of itself from Dick being FORCED into a kind of isolation by the others all blaming him.

Because now see what ripple effects result:

Now, the other characters are just as able to focus on their own individual storylines as they were in the show, with the additional concern of wanting to ACTUALLY find Dick and figure out what’s going on with him or tell him they still want to help....without this in any way needing to distract them from their own storylines, practically speaking, or cut into Dick’s narrative alone-time, because as part of the equation you ALSO have Slade, who has his own wants and agendas, not to mention tactics. And Slade’s perfectly capable of and willing to work with others, or utilize the long game, or engage in a game of cat and mouse as a distraction...there are numerous ways that you could engineer a plot FROM these motivations that allows him to keep the rest of the Titans distracted and even targeted individually, without allowing them to group back up with Dick or Dick to even know that they’re in danger and that his attempts to avoid that backfired.

You want the characters isolated and divided? The PLOT can do that for you. You don’t need the characters to do that to themselves.

IMO, most if not all stories are meant to advance characters, first and foremost. Take Characters A-Z and leave them different from how you found them. Move them to a different position in their lives as much as anything else, from where they began. The goal is character DEVELOPMENT.

What this means, in my book, is that the plot should serve the characters, NOT the other way around. The plot should grow FROM the characters and what they would or would not do....the characters should never have to be forced to FIT INTO a plot.

That’s backwards.

There shouldn’t be any need to reverse engineer a certain starting point, characterwise.

Just like....start the plot, plotwise....and from the moment you first introduce a single plot element, prioritize how would the characters react and BUILD from there.

The only engineering you should need to do is how to get to an eventual END point....which is still all about the forward momentum, not backing your way into anything.

Its one thing to have an endgoal for your plot, a point in character or narrative development that you want characters to reach. But its all about perspective. About keeping that what you’re working towards rather than something that you like, have to reach before you can even really BEGIN.

Which is what Titans S2 did. The real GOAL of the season in terms of Dick’s storyline, was his solo journey of self-discovery. But there’s a million different ways they could have LAUNCHED that journey, without it having to be the forced and contrived outcome of events and character decisions that literally only existed to initiate a journey that never required a forced initiation.

And so all this narrative energy gets utterly wasted and expended on stuff that it just flat out doesn’t need to be spent on in the first place....instead of just putting that same energy to use building forward-facing storylines for ALL the characters, that don’t require contrived spats of disharmony when the goal of such moments isn’t even the disharmony but rather just that they’re kept apart, the end RESULT of the disharmony.

Imagine what S2 could have built if instead of wasting time, characterization and energy on getting to a point they could have simply started from if they’d simply looked at it that way and chosen to just....start. If they’d applied all that to building across the board, everyone’s story in service to their own character first and foremost, no tangled feedback loops making characters regress or cycle through the same behavior or narrative positionings over and over again in order to not get in each other’s way or cross paths at a time when the show didn’t want them to cross paths....because rather than make all these characters work at cross purposes, they’re all on the same page, they still want the same things....you’re simply engineering from their own natural characterizations and organic decisions and reactions, ways the PLOT can be utilized as a TOOL, to keep them moving forward in their own respective chapters, WITHOUT their characters having to be bent out of their natural shapes or forced into niches that don’t really suit them, just to keep them, PREVENT them, from more naturally or organically making a choice or action that would ‘get in the way’ of the plot.

Bottom line......the plot is supposed to be there to advance the characters, because the characters are what we come to stories for. The characters are who we invest in, relate to, ROOT for.

The characters aren’t there to advance the plot. We’re not here to yell yeah, I really hope the writers do whatever it takes with characters, no matter how backwards or unnatural it seems, just to get that sweet sweet and oh so specific ending we want that is in no way dependent on how invested or not we ACTUALLY are in the characters by the time it arrives, in order for it to actually be effective or not!

Lol. Y’know?

So yeah, that’s my biggest gripe with Titans so far. I’m still eager to see what happens between Kory and her sister, and although I’m not thrilled it seems to be becoming Batfam Straight Outta Gotham rather than like, Titans: The Show, I admit I am curious about what take they’ll go with for Babs. As I still pretty vividly recall that weird as hell Birds of Prey show the CW or UPN or WB or whatever it was at the time did for one season, where Babs was honestly not terribly adapted despite the show otherwise bearing like, zero in common with any existing DC property or character (do not even get me STARTED on their takes on Dinah and Helena, no, blehrrible, those were bad, those were like super bad)....anyway, I’m kinda curious even if it wouldn’t have been my choice for what direction the show should take. Not that I have a specific one in mind, just, yeah. And I also kinda would not hate if we got a new Roy Harper now, to replace the not!Roy of Arrow, because I don’t know him, no seriously, who is that, its not Roy Harper.

[luckystarchild]

How does one write like you? You write so amazingly and beautifully! What tips can you give that can help an amateur writer get better?

Y’know, I never really feel qualified to answer this kind of question. I’ll give it a try, but I’m sorry if I fall short. Writing is just something I do, and have always done, and I confess I think about the hows/whys of writing less often than perhaps I should. Here are a seven tips I stand by.

1) Character is more important than plot. That doesn’t mean you don’t need a plot (please don’t forget your plot!), but sometimes I see books that focus so much on worldbuilding (this is especially true of high fantasy novels) and plot that they forget to populate that world and plot with characters worth caring about. For me, no plot is interesting enough to forgive the sin of boring or flat characters. I will stop reading something if I don’t care about the characters, and it does not matter how interesting the plot is if the characters bore me or grate on me. Your characters should drive the plot in a lot of ways, anyway, so if your characters are all blank slates without depth, they won’t impact the story. If you feel you could swap out your protagonist for another without it impacting the story, you need to flesh out your characters some more.

2) Outlines can be helpful. For me, I’d be lost without an outline to guide the story. Outlining where it goes can help you stay motivated, too, because you can look ahead to unwritten events you’re excited about and strive toward writing them.

3) Outlines can be stifling. Yes, I’m contradicting point #2, but remember point #1? If you feel your characters pulling the story in a direction that runs counter to your outline, don’t be afraid to follow your characters and break away from your plans. An outline should be a guide, not a set of unbreakable rules.

4) If a scene doesn’t add to characterization, worldbuilding or advancing the plot, it’s probably not necessary. Your scenes should have a point. I will admit I break this rule a lot in my fanfics because I simply enjoy playing with the characters (and I don’t have to abide by length conventions the way I do when writing novels), but ideally you need to know what the point of your scenes is. “What is this scene of two people at dinner achieving?” you should ask yourself. If it’s just them having a chat that doesn’t advance the plot or reveal anything about the characters/world, why bother writing it? 

5) Develop a writing habit. I wish I had a magic bullet for you that could utterly transform your writing with a single shot, but the truest magic bullet I can impart is to tell you to develop a writing habit. Practice absolutely makes perfect. The more you write, the better you’ll get at it. No one starts off writing well. You get better by practicing, and you need to do it a lot to get good. Developing a daily writing habit can help you get there. Some people don’t like writing daily and wait for inspiration to put pen to page, but if I did that, I probably wouldn’t write much. I ascribe to Jack London’s writing philosophy in that respect:

6) Read a lot. Read as much as you write. Read more than you write. Reading broadens your vocabulary, gives you a greater grasp of sentence structure and metaphor, and just plain jump-starts the way you look at wordsmithing. If you like a paragraph, sit back and ask why. Practice makes perfect, but studying is also helpful when trying to get good at something. Study the masters and you’ll wind up with more tools in your writing toolbox. 

7) Don’t edit until you’re done. Seriously. I know it’s tempting to go back and fiddle with your wording the minute you tack a period onto the end of a sentence, but don’t. Don’t do it. Just don’t. You’ll kill your forward momentum and get stuck in the editing mud, spinning your wheels until you give up, exhausted. If you must, edit when you’re done with the chapter, but me? I personally do not edit a novel until I’ve written “the end” after the final chapter. With fics it’s different since I’m putting chapters out one by one and they need to be edited before publication, but with novels, try to hold off until the end and just hang on to the momentum of the story as it flows. 

But here’s the thing: For every piece of advice I just gave, someone else will give you advice that contradicts it. And that’s OK! Everyone has a different opinion and different habits, so it’s up to you to try them out and see what suits you best. Best of luck with your writing, anon, and I hope some of this might help!

[maeve-of-winter]

Archie, Betty, and Teen Vigilantism: Thoughts on the Black Hood Arc

Depicted: one of what ended up feeling like a dozen instances of Betty crying on her phone while talking to the Black Hood.

A meta piece where I ramble on about why I thought Betty and Archie were both done wrong by the Black Hood arc, and how I think it could have been improved for Betty and Jughead in particular.

As far as Archie’s plots go, my general thought is this: the Red Circle was an improvement over Archie's music vs. football dilemma. Is this faint praise? Yes, yes, it is, and it is honestly the highest compliment I will ever give the Red Circle plot.

Why do I think the Red Circle plot is at least something of an improvement for Archie? Less because of actual content, and more because of character building, though content is also something of a factor. As a plot, the Red Circle was more actionized and felt like it had actual stakes. It was happening because of natural consequences of prior events, and it fundamentally rested on the emotional turmoil Archie felt in response to seeing his dad shot by the Black Hood. The plot was fueled by a character pushing back against someone else for doing wrong to them and their loved ones and refusing to stand for it any longer. When this plot began, it already had both pathos and consequences, two things Riverdale rarely bothers with, so it was already unique to the show. Meanwhile, the music vs. football story was just kinda there with no true way for audiences to get invested and no particular reason anyway why they should.

And while it might sound like I'm giving the Red Circle plot, which is really just a typical revenge storyline, too much credit, look at how painfully boring and ultimately trivial Archie's plots with the Blossoms and the football were. A character, either Clifford Blossom or Coach Clayton, would decide for no particular reason and nothing we ever saw any evidence of onscreen, that Archie was suited for this one special leadership role and then try to convince him to try out for it or accept it. Archie would proceed to meander along for a while, again demonstrating no true reason of why he should be given this role in the first place, and then ultimately decide it wasn't for him. And then absolutely nothing emerged for Archie's "character arc" from either one of them.

In comparison to the other four primary characters, who were either solving the main mystery of the first season (Betty and Jughead) or involved in plots that had elements essential to their fundamental characterization from the very beginning of the season (Veronica and Cheryl), Archie's plots felt less like actual stories and more like half-assed filler the writers were giving him because they were contractually obligated to give something to his actor to do.

But Archie reacting to an event that sets the entire second season in motion, him becoming a teen vigilante and going after the Black Hood--that’s finally something that results from events that have already occurred that already involved him, rather than the writers finding some random thing for him to do while the other characters drive the main plot. And from a story standpoint, it makes sense that if there's going to be a central antagonist, his main rival is going to be the central character, which, for better or for worse, is Archie.

There’s a reason why Lex Luthor is Superman's main rival in the Superman comic books rather than say, Jimmy Olsen's main rival. If there's going to be a primary antagonist who has a conflict with one of the characters, that character should be the main character. If it isn't, it ends up weakening the story. Even if he might not appeal to everyone, Archie is the main and most iconic character of Riverdale. Betty and Veronica are iconic as well, but Archie's the one who has had "protagonist" stamped on him for decades (even if he’s never done anything in particular to warrant that title).

And that's part of the reason why I think it was a mistake to move the Black Hood plot to revolve around Betty instead of Archie. Others have criticized her plot for ultimately just giving us seemingly endless scenes her crying on the phone (a valid complaint, as seen above), and I’ve had issues with it because it ultimately involved her deciding for no particular reason that she didn't have to listen to the Black Hood anymore and then suffering no consequences because it, which really ended up making previous scenes feel like a waste of time. But I also think the Black Hood plot centering on Betty was misguided due to the clear parallels between the Black Hood (Swenson, at least, because IDK what the new Black Hood’s deal is yet) and Archie rather than the informed but not actually demonstrated ones between the Black Hood and Betty.

Think about it: the Black Hood was traumatized as a child during a horrific incident that resulted in him accusing an innocent man, and he became a raging lunatic as a result of the guilt. Archie suffers a personal tragedy at the hands of the Black Hood, and, due to trauma, reacts by becoming a crazed lunatic who runs around waving a gun at people. While its been a point of cliche for years for media to try to establish that the hero and the villain aren't so different in their methods and motivations, and it honestly often falls flat to me, here I feel like it's actually a really strong point that Archie and the Black Hood are alike in how they reacted to their traumas. (Really, I would have enjoyed some ongoing self-reflection from Archie that both he and the Black Hood have similar motivations, but that would have required some pre-planning on the writers’ behalf and some self-awareness in how Archie's vigilante plot was going, and it doesn’t look like the writers were interested in either.) Here you have two characters believing that the ends justifies the means and that they must take justice into their own hands. Both Archie and the Black Hood are being driven by a sense of justice that originates from a place of guilt.

However, while the Black Hood was only targeting Fred incidentally, as killing Fred is simply a part of his mission, Archie’s vendetta against the Black Hood is deeply personal, because the Black Hood nearly killed his dad. That’s what pushes Archie toward vigilantism, that is the driving force behind all of his actions from all points forward after the shooting. And that’s what a character-focused story between a protagonist and an antagonist story should include: a protagonist who is fighting back against the antagonist in some way and learning about themselves in the process. While the mystery of the Black Hood does fundamentally rest on the Black Hood’s true identity, for Archie’s individual character arc, it should be less about who the Black Hood is and more about his personal journey in uncovering the Black Hood and the lengths and depths he’ll go to defeat. Where will his vigilantism take him? Will he ultimately end up being just like the Black Hood in his quest to bring him to justice?

So, from a story perspective, it’s strange to me that they then decided to focus the story on Betty, who had not been involved in the Black Hood plot at all until she receives a letter from him at the beginning of the fourth episode.

Look at the timeline for the Black Hood arc. It lasts for nine episodes. It begins at the very end of the season one finale and concludes in the ninth episode of season two. By the time Betty is brought in, we’re already a third of the way through the Black Hood arc. One third of the story is already over, and she’s suddenly brought into this story and takes over the main player role from Archie. It feels like an extremely sudden, sloppy, and belated transition.

And then there’s how she got brought in: the Black Hood sends her a letter, because after hearing her speech at the town Jubilee, he thinks they’re similar. Betty isn’t reacting to any injustice done to her or trauma or pain she’s experienced; she’s only involved because the Black Hood decided they should be pen pals. Meanwhile, there is Archie, who has been actively interested in and has an investment in catching the Black Hood since the very first episode of the season. Archie was at this conflict with the Black Hood from the very beginning, so we can understand both from a character and story viewpoint why he would take centerstage in a plot about the Black Hood. We already have a story set up with him; there is a reason he should be at the center of this conflict. The inciting action is already there. It is perfectly believable that Archie would be motivated to go after the Black Hood when Fred is hot.

Now, I’m not trying to say Betty should not have a plot or screen time or that she doesn’t have a place in this story arc. But the specific place she was given ended up being a strange one that proved to have little inciting reason or eventual payoff. Betty becoming involved doesn’t really make sense from either a Watsonian or Doylist perspective. For a Watsonian (in-universe) view, there’s no particular reason other for her being sent the letter other than her “darkness” that the Black Hood is entranced by. I mean, you have Betty, who has a vaguely defined “inner darkness” that the Black Hood recognizes despite it never actually receiving any focus or development from canon at that point, and he therefore thinks they’re alike for . . . reasons. And then there’s Archie who’s running around threatening people with his gun and vandalizing buildings and getting into gang fights for “the greater good.” Which of these characters is more like the Black Hood, would you say?

And, for a Doylist (out-of-universe) view, which character do you think has a more compelling conflict with the Black Hood? The one who has a personal vendetta due to the trauma inflicted upon him at the very beginning of the story and has since then been out for justice and being driven to dangerous extremes in their determination to find it, or a character who has not been involved in the plot until one-third of the story is already finished and even then, only becomes involved because the villain actively reaches out to them and would never have been involved at all if the villain hadn’t specifically decided to involve them?

Simply put, the way canon gets Betty involved in the Black Hood doesn’t really make for a cohesive story. Why start off your story with one character, give him all of the personal investment in the plot, and then have the story shift to revolve another character? It weakens the plot overall, because it’s no longer being driven by the choices Archie (our protagonist) is actively making. It’s instead about a deranged killer toying with and tormenting Betty (another protagonist) and her reacting to him, even though there isn’t much motivation for the Black Hood to focus on Betty at all. Betty only becomes a player because the Black Hood chose to involve her, while Archie himself actively embroils himself with the Black Hood in response to prior events. 

And, unfortunately, Betty mainly being a passive responder to the Black Hood as he threatens and plays mind games with her is a primary focus of the Black Hood arc. Archie, a male character, gets to act and be brash and wild and dangerous in his own right, while Betty, a female character, is stuck always weeping or acting against her will as she is continually threatened by a murderous lunatic, helpless and defenseless for a good portion of that time. Active man in contrast to passive woman. Archie and Betty are set in very tired and gendered roles that don’t have the self-awareness to realize just how gendered they are.

Because of that, I think the story actually does a large disservice to Betty’s character. Ultimately, it becomes a story of a young woman being manipulated and victimized by a threatening male figure, which isn’t exactly a new or subversive use for a female character. A large portion of the Black Hood arc was Betty being controlled by the Black Hood and being forced into his bidding; she was turned from an active investigator in season one to in season two being a passive victim constantly coerced into action against her will. And I think that’s an incredibly poor use of a character who was once very proactive and refused to give in to the manipulations of those around her. To compound my frustration with how this plot uses Betty’s character, while the Black Hood arc brings Betty down to her lowest point over and over and over, it doesn’t do that to any particular end or payoff. Possibly the most frustrating part of the Black Hood arc is how meaningless it eventually turns out to be for Betty and almost everyone except Archie.

I say this because Betty’s involvement with the Black Hood didn’t really change anything for her in any substantial way. Once she received the letter from the Black Hood, doing as he instructed resulting in her coming into conflict with Jughead and Veronica. But those conflicts did last and they didn’t bring in anything new for anyone involved. Betty was instantly able to resolve her arguments with them in the very next episode after they happened, and then there’s another argument between her and Jughead in 2.08 that is then resolved in 2.10, as soon as the Black Hood arc is over. Essentially, her relationships with Jughead and Veronica are the same post-Black Hood as they were pre-Black Hood. In fact, all but one of her relationships are the exact same pre and post-Black Hood. The only relationship that changed was between her and Archie when they shared a kiss, and even that was soon dismissed, therefore it was only a minor and not a lasting change.

Which raises the question: why make a point of involving Betty in the Black Hood if nothing was going to change for her? In contrast to Archie, it didn’t develop her character at all. Even though he ended up taking a backseat to Betty in the Black Hood arc, Archie’s relationships at least ended up changing as a direct result: the Black Hood arc set up the beginning of his loyalty toward Hiram, which would then go on to result in his lasting distance toward Jughead and his parents. There was a chain reaction created by the Black Hood plot for Archie. But for Betty? She’s not different at all. She just kissed Archie once, but other than that, she’s the same person. Thus this arc ends up feeling like a complete and total waste of time for her character. Things are just happening to her, but those things don’t end up making any difference to who she is as a person or where she is in terms of her personal development.

Which, again, leads to question why Betty was involved in the Black Hood arc if not to develop her character. Her character was not served well by this story arc, so why go through the trouble of including her when she became involved late in the game, and it didn’t really make all that much sense to have her be included at all?

I don’t have an answer, really.

What I do have, though, is a better idea for how Betty could have been used.

Why only have Betty involved from one-third of the way into the episode? Why not have her be the person who witnessed the Black Hood shooting?

When we first saw Dark Betty, it was because she was out for justice from Chuck and for Polly. So why not use Dark Betty to go after the Black Hood? It would develop the Dark Betty side of her personality outside of anything tied to her sexuality, and it would allow Betty to face the side of herself she would rather push away, and also actually demonstrate how Dark Betty is supposed to be like the Black Hood.

If Riverdale wanted to do a Black Hood storyline with Betty, they should have had Betty involved from the very beginning. Rather than having Archie witness Fred get shot, they could have had Betty witness Alice get shot. This switch would have allowed the show to instantly begin examining a myriad of character development and relationships where Betty is concerned. They could have had against highlighted the very complicated and antagonistic between Betty and Alice, with Alice perhaps using her brush with death to try to improve her relationships with both of her daughters. This also could have culminated in Alice realizing what she truly wants in life, be it making peace with her past, focusing on her future, and possibly reuniting with FP. Additionally, it could have allowed Alice herself to seek out Chic and attempt to set things right with him because she doesn’t want to possibly die without knowing her firstborn child.

As for Betty, she then could have been the one to start a vendetta against the Black Hood and be out for revenge, which would let Dark Betty emerge and drive her actions, and we would finally be able to see just who Dark Betty actually is. The storyline could have been about Betty reconciling her two selves, merging her plucky detective self with the part of her that is out for blood. And then the Black Hood’s fascination with Betty and belief that they are alike would make sense, because can see from what is happening onscreen that Betty desperately wants revenge and is being driven to desperate extremes, like the Black Hood is driven to extremes. Furthermore, the plot could have also been used to explain the growing distance between her and Jughead. While Betty was initially against Jughead being with the Serpents, we didn’t get a whole lot of explanation why beyond her seemingly holding some prejudices against the Southside.

However, a vengeance-obsessed Betty who is determined to end crime in Riverdale has a much stronger reason for being against Jughead standing with the Serpents. We could have had a story where Betty struggled with her vendetta and her personal relationships, Jughead struggled with his Northside loyalties and his growing draw to the Serpents, and what their internal conflicts ultimately meant for their relationship and if it could endure the stress of the widening gap between them. It no longer would have been a story about Jughead and Betty just being physically separated at different schools, but separated ideologically by Betty’s reaction to her personal trauma and Jughead’s determination to free his father regardless of what his father might have done. It wouldn’t have simply been a case of Jughead and Betty breaking up and getting back together a few times, but them trying to and either failing or succeeding in navigating a romantic relationship during a time when their loyalties to family pulled them in different directions.

Same thing with Veronica. With an increasingly aware Betty becoming suspicious of the Lodges’ criminal activities, how does this impact his relationship with Vee? Can Betty stand for it? Does she struggle to look past Veronica’s involvement, particularly in season two? Does Veronica allow Betty to pass judgement for the sake of preserving their friendship, or does she refuse to stand for it? It could have been a fantastic opportunity to examine tension and conflict in the relationship between the two girls completely free of any type of love triangle elements. Instead of the Black Hood entering as an outside force to torment Betty or tear Bughead apart or to isolate her from Veronica, it’s Betty herself making those decisions freely. Where will those decisions take her, and how will they alter her personal relationships?

Her tension could not only possibly be with Veronica and Jughead, but also potentially with Kevin once she begins to suspect his father is the Black Hood. So, the Black Hood isn’t actually interfering with her relationships; it’s her response that’s causing the problems, and now she must decide if she’s going to sacrifice her relationships to keep trying to locate the Black Hood. It would be a journey for Betty, one where she decided to take action against the Black Hood from the moment he fired the bullet, and it would shine a spotlight on the darkness within her as she relentlessly pursued him, possibly becoming more and more like him as she did. And we would finally see those supposed parallels between her and the Black Hood.

And in my humble opinion, that would be a lot more interesting to watch than endless scenes of Betty crying and clutching her phone.

Riverdale resumes on 4/18/18, and with it brings a new Black Hood storyline. Will this one make more sense than the last one? It couldn’t make much less sense. Will the writing be better? I doubt it. But in my dream world, Betty had a storyline with the Black Hood that brought her character development instead of just constantly bringing her down.

[terranoctis]

epic ii

As usual, there are spoilers for stories I’ve read below. You’ve been warned. Seemed fitting to finally finish up my writeup on the stories I read after the long day January 6th has been, and honestly rather fitting that the first novel I read this year was one about tolerance and diversity in an urban fantasy.

1. The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

I confess to being somewhat limited in my awareness of Russian folklore, but from what I do know from having read other books, I would say this novel is perhaps one of the best I’ve read in that vein. Arden writes fantastically in the way she weaves fairytale and folklore together to present a medieval Russian society that has magic and spirits. It’s a novel that reads much like an old folklore story while still having intriguing characters that drive the novel. Vasya is a strong and determined protagonist, and the way her interactions are written with the various spirits around her home, as well as the human characters are complex in ways that continued to surprise me throughout the book. It’s not an overly complex plot, but the charm of the novel lies in how it reads as a fairytale and is told beautifully in that same kind of folklore vein. I’m also struggling now to think if I’ve ever read a fantasy novel that has depicted snow as wonderfully as this novel, because I can’t recall a different one. It’s a novel that made me love curling up in bed, under my blankets, while I was exploring the Russian woods with Vasya. It felt like a fitting novel in the wake of the holidays in December (which is when I read it). I do think the ending could’ve been stronger, in terms of how the main conflict was resolved, but I also believe that it set up future stories. I’m excited to see how the rest of the trilogy plays out because I thoroughly enjoyed this one. I ended up staying up to finish this one because I wanted to keep reading.

2. Down Among the Sticks and Bones by Seanan McGuire

I love the general concept of The Wayward Children as a series, and I find that the concept of different worlds these children get lost in cements its foothold further with the twins Jack and Jill, moreso than in the previous novel. It’s not the longest read, but one that casts the magical aspects of world-traveling in a more somber light. The thing that surprised me more was that I felt this was less a tale of the horrors of the world Jack and Jill walked into than how it was a commentary about the monsters we become because of our upbringings. We learned from the first book in the series that Jill is a murderer, and this novel really cements how and why she becomes one, in all the confused nature of a child who wants affection. We see the way the neglect and the controlling nature of their parents drive the twins to act in certain ways that are out of the norm or are cruel. We see the way their natures are nurtured or twisted further based on the upbringings they receive in the moors; one receives mentoring and kindness, while the other receives twisted affections based only on loyalty. The story is presented as a gothic fairytale, and is wonderfully crafted, though it lends itself towards a type of cautionary tale. It feels somewhat incomplete, as we don’t get to see them returning to the world, but as a stand-alone tale of their loss of innocence... or rather, never being able to live through innocence because of their parents, it’s a strong read. I would dare say it’s a better read than the first because it allowed us to focus on a smaller cast of characters and the setting of the Moors with vampires and doctors who could bring people back to life was rather intriguing.

3. The Burning God by R.F. Kuang

Finally, the last novel to what has been one of my favorite series these last few years has been finished. It’s been rather rare for me to read fantasy novels written nowadays that write of the strains of militaristic war in both a brutal and tender manner, but R.F. Kuang has that down to a T. This may be because R.F. Kuang has done her research and study very much into the history of war in China and Japan (and in colonial warfare), but the trilogy and this novel are exceptionally well-written because of it. I recognize understanding of military campaigns and colonialism when I read it, and it’s well-conveyed in the novel. The story shines, however, because of the way the core characters are written. It’s anchored by the complex characterization of the main characters, which is the truly compelling part of the series. 

I’ve written several pieces before about how Runin, or Rin, is an anti-hero that truly would be the villain in any other story of this world. We sympathize with her because she is the protagonist we follow, but we understand as well the horrors of who she is becoming, down to the very end of the novel when she becomes the mirror of the man who hurt her and haunts her. The novel (and perhaps this trilogy), in a way, is about this desperate struggle of young soldiers who went to extreme measures to keep their country safe and united, only to understand that they’ve inherited a history of warfare and a bucket of problems from their predecessors. It’s about youth who fought for their ideals only to understand that their ideals would not yet be achievable due to the complexity of the world--and the trilogy ends on that note, with that ringing, cold reality. And we understand why, even if it’s such a painful ending. Sometimes, even forces like gods have to fall to the world or go insane before they recognize that. Even though Rin has a god in her head that is driving her insane, I also took her selfishness and insanity at the end as a presentation of post-traumatic stress disorder.

I think R.F. Kuang succeeds at writing suffering in her stories in a sympathetic manner, because I feel so much even when I recognize that such actions certain characters take are twisted. It’s a fitting ending, even if it’s such a fucking cold one. I knew from the very beginning of this trilogy that there wouldn’t be a happy ending for Runin. I hoped there would be for Kitay, but the truth is, he also stayed with her and chose that route, so there would never have been a happy ending for him either. No one wins in war. And sometimes violence is truly a cyclical story in more ways than one. 

This wasn’t a perfect novel and I don’t think it was my favorite of the series, but it’s one I deeply enjoyed immersing myself in. It was a strong, and in my opinion, a fitting end to what was a sprawling, wonderful trilogy about the monsters people can become for their ambition and ideals in war. Might have been kind of fitting that it was the last story I finished in 2020.

4. The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin

I have heard numerous times that Jemisin is a brilliant writer, and though this is my first novel of hers, I can understand why such glowing praise has been given to her. This is an urban fantasy novel about cities being living beings, and the way it’s written is so utterly unique and charming that I can’t help but marvel at how she came up with it. I’ve read briefly that she might be inverting Lovecraftian themes, but as I’m less familiar with Lovecraft, I have no insight into my reading on that. Moreover, though I have an outsider’s view of New York City, I recognize this novel as one of the most elaborate love letters to New York City and its diversity I’ve ever read. I’m not a city girl, but if there is one city I love, it is New York--and this novel made me miss being in New York. 

It’s also a novel that is acutely aware of diversity in various ways and the reactions people have to diversity. I feel like this novel is one that is good to read in light of all the issues we have in institutional racism and how conversations are being held on extreme opposites in the spectrum, because Jemisin doesn’t shy away from it. One of the boroughs of New York, in fact, is represented by that kind of human who leans right, with prejudiced views given to her by alt-right parents and upbringings. It’s easy to forget that in a liberal city like New York how different conversations and views of the world are being had, but New York is a world in itself, of both people who have lived there all their lives and people who flock there from different cities. I love that the people who represent New York as living entities of the city are so very different--and that New York requires six people to represent it. Whether it’s Padmini as a non-citizen, Manhattan as a stranger to New York, or Brooklyn who has lived there all her life--there are so many walks of life in this city that are so emblematic of New Yorkers. And if anything, this novel is a hopeful story about that kind of diversity and how it comes together in adversity against entities that hope to bring it down. 

As my first novel of the year, I’m thrilled that it was such a brilliant read that weaves in matters that seem highly relevant to me and the society I live in. It was also one that seems to cast the conflict in shades of white supremacy and racism--or even just simple prejudices on various levels. Even the character that I’m prone to find a little more disdainful for being extremely conservative (Staten Island) I find a little sympathetic, because I’m witness to her upbringing and how people can twist those beliefs or hammer it in further (in this case, through the Woman in White and her desire to destroy the city). I’ve read numerous stories from fantasy and science fiction, but I don’t think I’ve read one that feels quite as modern or in the present as this one. There are many ways to interpret the whole concept of cities and the universes they kill for simply existing, but the complexity of it makes me fascinated. I’m looking forward to reading the rest of this trilogy and her other books, because she’s absolutely fantastic at worldbuilding and weaving in themes that make you think. Is it the most perfect novel? Do I think the last part of the novel has the greatest resolution? Not exactly, but still what a damn good read. 

It’s a novel where the main characters are all people of color and depicts a choice white character as a stereotype and an enemy. I suspect that may make some readers uncomfortable, but to those readers, I would ask them kindly to consider how many novels people of color have read over the years where they were marginalized, stereotyped characters. It’s the same kind of question those who denounced BLM movements entirely on the premise of All Lives Matter. Somehow this book feels like it mirrors our world and current events, even in a fantasy world. It feels more so, in the wake of BLM and the attempted coup that happened less than 24 hours ago.

As an aside, I love Veneza and Padmini.

[quasithinking]

Gravity’s Rainbow: Part XV

We're introduced to Katje in this section. Katje is Blicero's Gretel, Slothrop's temptation, Pointsman's octopus's conditioned stimulus, Pudding's feces factory, and Pirate's—I don't know—salvation, maybe? Why does she get around so much? Whoever she is, she's important enough to be rescued by the Allies—by Pirate, to be explicit—via a message sent from Europe to London in a rocket. Was she, as Blicero suspected, always an operative for the Allies? Or was that just Blicero's paranoia, which grew so strong that he eventually sent the message to rescue her from himself via rocket? I don't know because I'm not a tenured academic who can devote the kind of time needed to understand Gravity's Rainbow! Also, I've only read the book once so far. I'll probably have it all figured out after my current, second reading! By the way, Katje means kitten in Dutch. Just in case that's important. Which it totally is because cats are fucking the best. Right up there with raccoons and goats. You might now have a slightly better understanding of me, now that you know my favorite animals are the most chaotic of our domesticated friends or, at least, in the case of the raccoon, urban dwellers. Side note: when I was around ten years old (I'm 49 now! Yeesh!), I saw my first Red Panda at the zoo and instantly declared the Red Panda as my favorite animal. I always forget how much I like them until they pop up on the Internet. Ten year old me would be severely disappointed in 49 year old me. Red Pandas didn't even make my list of favorite animals after I remembered them and had a chance to edit the previous paragraph! They only made this side note!

Speaking of loving chaotic things, I love Bob Mortimer so much that I accidentally became him.

This section begins with Katje being secretly filmed in Pirate's apartment while Osbie Feels prepares psychedelic mushrooms for smoking. I have never smoked mushrooms before. Is that better than eating them? Or do you still wind up just as paranoid as Slothrop when he's, um, well, when he's just being Slothrop? I once went to a strip club with a couple friends of mine while I was on mushrooms. The DJ at the club knew one of my friends and kept making references to him during the night. This caused everybody in the club to look back at our table. Strangers constantly looking up at a person on mushrooms feels aggressive and terrifying. After this happened a number of times, I turned to my friend and said, "I have to go outside." He responded, "Why? Are you going to cut somebody's head off?!" Anyway, the film will later be used to condition an octopus into attacking Katje for part of the Tyrone Slothrop experiment. But we'll get to that outrageousness later! Katje walks into the kitchen where Osbie is cooking the mushrooms down to powder just as Osbie opens the oven door which sends her into a sort of fugue state where she relives her time playing Gretel with Blicero as witch and Gottfried as Hansel. Although it's an extremely adult version of Hansel and Gretel with bits like "'the Rome-Berlin Axis' he called it the night the Italian came and they were all on the round bed, Captain Blicero plugged into Gottfried's upended asshole and the Italian at the same time into his pretty mouth" and "Katje kneeling before Blicero in highest drag, black velvet and Cuban heels, his penis squashed invisible under a flesh-colored leather jockstrap, over which he wears a false cunt. . . ." There's plenty more to that last example but I don't want to put in too many spoilers and/or visuals that might upset the squeamish. If it's true that Stephen King based his entire novel It on "The Three Billy Goats Gruff," is it possible to read Gravity's Rainbow with the conceit that the entirety of it is based on "Hansel and Gretel"? The 000000 rocket is the oven Blicero shoves Hansel inside. Except there's no Gretel to save him in this version, her having run off to the Allies. Much of the characterization in the novel is based on the methods each character is using to control what they can in the face of the War's unending random violence and death. For Blicero, Gottfried, and Katje, their method is the fairy tale of "Hansel and Gretel." It is a predetermined act in which they control their roles and their environment. Or, at least, Blicero controls them. But Katje, at least, feels it is a rational decision. I don't know, exactly, how Gottfried feels about it. It's possible we eventually get a section from his perspective (I mean prior to his perspective from within the 000000 rocket) but I don't remember it. But I will remember it soon because it's in this section! Part of Blicero's suspicion of Katje, that she might be a British spy, is a result of the "Hansel and Gretel" game itself. Isn't it Gretel who pushes the witch in the Oven in the end? Is she fated, simply by the rules of the game Blicero has chosen, to bring about his end? The game itself, used to control a world one desperately knows they have no actual way of controlling, fuels a new kind of paranoia for Blicero. She is his slave, his obedient servant, his pawn to move as he wishes. And yet, she is also his demise, his bringer of death. Just as the rockets which often misfire and fall back upon the Germans firing them, Katje presents a danger to her master, Blicero. Here, Blicero's description of Katje's commitment to Nazism, to the game: "But not Katje: no mothlike plunge. He must conclude that secretly she fears the Change, choosing instead only trivially to revise what matters least, ornament and clothing, going no further than politic transvestism, not only in Gottfried's clothing, but even in traditional masochist uniform, the French-maid outfit so inappropriate to her tall, longlegged stride, her blondeness, her questing shoulders like wings—she plays at this only . . . plays at playing." Blicero (for now the story has dipped into his perspective. As so often happens in Gravity's Rainbow, a remembrance of a character by one character often turns into the narrating perspective of that character who might remember another character which will change the perspective to that third character's point of view) contemplates an earlier point in his life when he began the trajectory (parabolic, perhaps?) of the life he currently leads. It's similar to Pointsman contemplating the minotaur and the maze and Ariadne and how the lure of Pavlovian conditioning led him to The White Visitation and planning his experiments on Slothrop. This comes after his quoting a line from Rilke: "And not once does his step ring from the soundless Destiny...." He thinks about a friend from youth who was so athletic that his Destiny as a soldier to die on the Eastern Front was practically set, simply by muscle memory, by reflex. He thinks about these Germans, these youths, all used for their ability and their belief in the lie of Deutschland Uber Alles, manipulated by others, to be sent to their deaths. But more so, he thinks about those who will survive the war, those less committed than he, those limber enough, like Katje, to change. Blicero himself has grown tired and now just looks forward to the end of his story. "He only wants now to be out of the winter, inside the Oven's warmth, darkness, steel shelter, the door behind him in a narrowing rectangle of kitchen-light gonging shut, forever. The rest is foreplay." I feel like I'm just doing a lot of summarizing but it's my only method for getting a handle on the plot and the characters which will solidify these ideas in my head which in turn should allow me to recall previous passages when I get to sections that rely on the information within these passages to fully understand and grasp the meaning of the future scenes. Blicero admits to worrying about his children, Katje and Gottfried, when he's gone. This worry makes me think it was indeed Blicero who sent the message via rocket that brings Pirate to rescue Katje (it isn't. I don't know who it was though. Katje? Piet? Wim? The Drummer? The Indian?!). As for Gottfried, well, Blicero's freedom for him is, um, somewhat different. Blicero also remembers his time in the Südwest and how he met the Herero boy, Enzian, whom he took under his wing. "Took under his wing" is an awfully innocent way of saying "sexually molested and kidnapped him back to Germany." Enzian, we will find out later, has become the leader of the Schwarzkommando. From the first time I read the book, I remembered this scene where the young boy uses the name of his God as a stand-in for fucking which drives Blicero crazy with guilt and blasphemy and lust. But I didn't realize, once Enzian was introduced, that this was who that was. This is definitely something I need to keep in mind in that it colors the relationship between Blicero and Enzian. Sidekick and apprentice were the words I thought of to describe Enzian's relationship to Blicero previously; now I must also remember to add the words molestation, kidnap, and victim. And then after Blicero ponders Katje's withdrawal from the game (I think only mentally at the moment although that would set up Blicero's decision to free her completely via extraction by Pirate), the point of view shifts to Gottfried. Before I get to that, I want to clarify something I said in a previous section. I pointed at how dumb I thought my Children's Lit professor was being when she suggested we write long essays on single sentences of text. My point wasn't that critical analysis shouldn't somehow be longer than the text being analyzed; obviously that's going to happen an awful lot. Some lines and paragraphs need pages of explication! My issue was that she didn't want us straying away from that single sentence. She didn't want us bringing in other examples of the text and exploring greater themes inherent in the work while using the sentence as a basis for a longer discussion. She simply wanted us to focus exclusively on that sentence. So while I'm obviously all for dissecting the shit out of a text (although to really go in-depth on Gravity's Rainbow would take more time than I'm willing to spend so my sectional blurbs are far, far shorter than a truly explicatory dive should probably be), I'm simply not for the completely out-of-context vibe she was creating by pulling a single sentence out of the whole and concentrating exclusively on that piece. Because what does it matter if you can't refer back to the entirety of the piece of art it was pulled from? Or as Roger Mexico said: "'I don't want to get into a religious argument with you,' absence of sleep has Mexico more cranky today than usual, 'but I wonder if you people aren't a bit too—well, strong, on the virtues of analysis. I mean, once you've taken it all apart, fine, I'll be first to applaud your industry. But other than a lot of bits and pieces lying about, what have you said?'" The "you" is in italics in the previous quote because Mexico is referring back to Pointsman's previous argument that ends with "but what has one said?" Anyway, back to Gottfried, I guess! Gottfried is young enough that death is unreal to him. It is something that happens to others. The war for him is an adventure, and the game he plays with Blicero nothing more than routine, a routine that, though outrageously different, is nothing more than the routine his fellow soldiers live through. He understands that his freedom will come with the end of the War. Until then, he plays the game, he longs for Katje, and he fucks Blicero. But he is nothing more than an observer and he watches when Katje finally quits and Blicero, subsequently, throws a huge tantrum. Blicero's reaction suggests he didn't send the message to rescue Katje. Perhaps she sent it, or one of the Allies she's been secretly passing information to for the last year. According to rumors Gottfried has heard, Katje has fallen in love with a Stuka pilot in Scheveningen. This Stuka pilot exists and his name is Wim. And on her last meeting with him, she is rescued and taken back to London by Pirate after Wim and the others (Piet, the Drummer, the Indian. Who? I don't know! Maybe a reference to a movie about British spies in WWII?!) abandon her. They abandon her because they were seeking the location of Blicero and his rocket site, the one piece of information she couldn't bring herself to betray. But once she left Blicero for good, he knew she had betrayed him and he immediately had the rocket launch site moved. Now with the context of the rest of the novel, I can see where Katje came from. She was feeding information to the Allies just as Blicero suspected. But she just couldn't feed them enough. And even though her cover as a loyal Nazi party member came at the cost of sending three Jewish families to camps, she still feels she gave them more than enough information. Nobody seems to agree because she didn't give them Blicero. But Pirate takes pity on her and sends her over to The White Visitation. Here's a lengthy transcription of Pynchon's description of the commerce of the war: "She's worth nothing to them now. They were after Schußstelle 3. She gave them everything else, but kept finding reasons not to pinpoint the Captain's rocket site, and there is too much doubt by now as to how good the reasons were. True, the site was often moved about. But she could've been placed no closer to the decision-making: it was her own expressionless servant's face that leaned in over their schnapps and cigars, the charts coffee-ringed across the low tables, the cream papers stamped purple as bruised flesh. Wim and the others have invested time and lives—three Jewish families sent east—though wait now, she's more than balanced it, hasn't she, in the months out at Scheveningen? They were kids, neurotic, lonely, pilots and crews they all loved to talk, and she's fed back who knows how many reams' worth of Most Secret flimsies across the North Sea, hasn't she, squadron numbers, fueling stops, spin-recovery techniques and turning radii, power settings, radio channels, sectors, traffic patterns—hasn't she? What more do they want? She asks this seriously, as if there's a real conversion factor between information and lives. Well, strange to say, there is. Written down in the Manual, on file at the War Department. Don't forget the real business of the War is buying and selling. The murdering and the violence are self-policing, and can be entrusted to non-professionals. The mass nature of wartime death is useful in many ways. It serves as spectacle, as diversion from the real movements of the War. It provides raw material to be recorded into History, so that children may be taught History as sequences of violence, battle after battle, and be more prepared for the adult world. Best of all, mass death's a stimulus to just ordinary folks, little fellows try 'n' grab a piece of that Pie while they're still here to gobble it up. The true war is a celebration of markets. Organic markets, carefully styled 'black' by the professionals, spring up everywhere. Scrip, Sterling, Reichsmarks continue to move, severe as classical ballet, inside their antiseptic marble chambers. But out here, down here among the people, the truer currencies come into being. So, Jews are negotiable. Every bit as negotiable as cigarettes, cunt, or Hershey bars. Jews also carry an element of guilt, of future blackmail, which operates, natch, in favor of the professionals." Once Pirate mentions that The White Visitation is where Katje can escape to, the scene shifts to her arrival there, and Osbie and Pirate having a conversation about going mad. I must, once again, transcribe a bit of text because it has a recurrence of "magenta and green" in an account of Dumbo (which will also have a recurrent mention later where Dumbo's magic feather becomes soldier corpses (or some such thing!)): "'Of course, of course,' sez Osbie, with a fluid passage of fingers and wrist based on the way Bela Lugosi handed a certain glass of doped wine to some fool of a juvenile lead in White Zombie, the first movie Osbie ever saw and in a sense the last, ranking on his All-Time List along with Son of Frankenstein, Freaks, Flying Down to Rio, and perhaps Dumbo, which he went to see in Oxford Street last night but mid-way through noticed, instead of a magic feather, the humorless green and magenta face of Mr. Ernest Bevin wrapped in the chubby trunk of the longlashed baby elephant, and decided it would be prudent to excuse himself."

Ernest Bevin, Minister of Labour during the War.

We learn that "[w]e are never told why" Katje quits the game with Blicero. But Pynchon adds some speculation that mostly amounts to simply saying, "Fuck it." In his analysis of why he brought back Katje, Pirate teaches me the word "crotchet." I shall immediately add it to my vocabulary, much as I added hobbyhorse after reading Tristram Shandy. And then, as Katje denies being Pirate's responsibility, knowing only that she owes him a debt, Pynchon gives us the story of her ancestor Frans Van der Groov and the story of the Dodoes. And I need to take a break because this section made me weep terribly last time I read it and I must prepare. The Dodo story reads like an early draft of Mason & Dixon. It easily, aside from the linguistic style, could fit into that book (which I'll probably re-read soon). And while I thoroughly loved this section the first time I read it, I gave it no real mind to the overall novel. I do that now upon my second reading and it makes me sick to my stomach. If not an analogy of the Holocaust or of Colonial Genocides, it is certainly a portrayal of the thing within humans that allow, or perhaps demand, grisly and horrendous crimes such as those. After the story of Frans Van der Groov and his dodoes (Dodoes that found salvation, or Preterite Dodoes?), Pirate and Osbie have a short conversation about what will happen with Katje. It begins like this: "'He's haunting you,' Osbie puffing on an Amanita cigarette.     'Yes,' Pirate ranging the edges of the roof-garden, irritable in the sunset, 'but it's the last thing I want to believe. The other's been bad enough. . . .'" I don't know who the "he" and "the other" are referring to! Frans, possibly, since Pirate makes reference to having been told the story later in the novel. Pointsman, maybe? Slothrop?! I guess some things will need to remain a mystery. The section ends on a scene at The White Visitation where the film of Katje that was being recorded at the beginning of this section winds up being played for Grigori the Octopus. He's being given a stimulus to respond to in the next Chapter.

[rebeccaheyman]

reading + listening 9.7.20

It’s been a minute since my last bona fide review roundup, in part because our week of vacation was followed by a week of long-overdue family visits (after all parties clocked negative covid tests), and in part because I hit a reading slump. Or rather, my version of a slump: a couple DNF aBooks in a row, plus an imbalance of reading and listening. I’ve pulled myself out of the lull, but the list below reflects my relative floundering for the past two weeks. Le sigh.

You Have a Match (Emma Lord), eBook, ARC (pub date Jan 2021). NetGalley review:

I absolutely loved TWEET CUTE and was eager to see how Lord would follow-up such a sparkling debut. YOU HAVE A MATCH brings the same timely, fresh, emotionally immediate storytelling as TC, albeit with slightly less humor and slightly more pathos. The concept takes a little more oomph to get off the ground (Leo's ambiguous ancestry leads to the DNA test that yields a secret sister result for protagonist Abby, and all relevant parties end up at the same summer camp together), and at times the narrative posturing becomes quite literally acrobatic (climbing trees, falling in ditches). Still, I happily suspend my disbelief for the sake of Lord's smart, authentic-feeling characters. In what might be a hallmark of her work, there's a consistent social media presence (IG, as opposed to TC's reliance on Twitter and an in-world messaging app). My dearest wish is that Lord's future work will not consistently rely on these trappings, which will sadly not age well; her storytelling chops are more timeless than the contemporary technologies featured in these narratives.

Muse (Brittany Cavallaro), eBook, ARC (pub date Feb 2021). NetGalley review:

I want to start by noting my excitement for this book -- and really, anything Brittany Cavallaro writes. I loved the Charlotte Holmes series and was eager to explore this new direction for Cavallaro's work. But for me, MUSE felt like it was always starting -- the action always rising, world always building, characters always establishing their identities. I didn't feel especially close to Claire, whose powers are somewhat ambiguous until they crystallize, very momentarily, in Act III. Part of the trouble, for me, is the intensive brain exercise required at the book's outset, to both visualize and conceptualize this version of America--a monarchy ruled by generations of King Washingtons. Ultimately, the story's setting (St. Cloud, along the Mississippi River) could be any imagined place; that this is a re-envisioned version of 1890s America has nothing to do with the political intrigues that drive the plot forward. I longed to spend less energy on parsing the intersections of real and imagined Americanism, and more time exploring Claire's power, her relationships to Beatrix and Remy, and the political machinations and intrigues in St. Cloud.

If my reading of MUSE is correct, then the second installment in the duology should be a runaway train of action, smart plotting, and feminist agendas -- in short, a book I very much look forward to reading. What I appreciated most in this first half of the story is what I've come to expect from Cavallaro generally: snappy, smart prose and strong women helming the narrative. It wasn't enough to make me love this read, but it's absolutely enough to keep me invested in the story's (eventual) conclusion.

The Ten Thousand Doors of January (Alix Harrow), aBook. May I confess that while this book came highly recommended from an extremely trusted reader-friend, I DNF’d my first attempt with the eBook back in November 2019? I couldn’t tell you what about me + this book didn’t jive last year, but a title this decorated and adored isn’t one I’ll easily give up on. I circled back around to it with the aBook (brilliantly narrated by January LaVoy), and while I can’t say this will rank among my favorites in the genre, it’s a solidly inventive, beautifully written narrative. In theme and structure, it’s awfully close to THE STARLESS SEA, which for me was a better book overall (one of the best of the year, actually). Something about the way the eponymous January too frequently claims “if I had only known what would happen next, I wouldn’t have done x” turned me off; this character seems to have a habit of being so caught up in her emotions that she doesn’t see obviously awful things about to happen. The antagonistic forces felt overdone and a little silly at times, and the mastermind reveal is too obvious by half. For all the flaws in TEN THOUSAND DOORS, the writing is solid enough that I’m absolutely planning to read Harrow’s next, The Once and Future Witches, out next month. 

The Marriage Clock (Zara Raheem), aBook. THE MARRIAGE CLOCK appealed to me in part because its narrator, Ariana Delawari, is a joy (she was absolutely brilliant on THE WRATH AND THE DAWN duology), and in part because I’m a sucker for Desi-focused narratives; I just love reading about these big, close-knit families with a strong focus on culture and family devotion -- not to mention the food and fashion. Suffice it to say, I was predisposed to enjoy THE MARRIAGE CLOCK... and it was... just okay. The book tries to build a story of self-actualization on a foundation of anecdotal montage -- essentially, the first two thirds of the book are about bearing witness to a series of bad first dates and getting commentary on the sorry state of modern romance. The story definitely improves once Leila goes overseas to attend a wedding, but I confess by then I felt obligated to finish simply based on time invested. The book’s conclusion, which I won’t spoil here, would have felt more satisfactory if Leila’s behavior and attitudes hadn’t been so childish throughout. Bottom line: If you can watch early seasons of Sex In The City without wanting to shove Carrie Bradshaw into oncoming traffic, you’ll probably really like THE MARRIAGE CLOCK. But if you’re looking for a more mature, nuanced Desi romance with lots of heart, consider my personal fav, THE BOLLYWOOD AFFAIR (Sonali Dev).

Smooth Talking Stranger (Lisa Kleypas), aBook. This was my first contemporary romance from Lisa Kleypas, which came highly recommended by another trusted reader-friend. The opening salvo didn’t draw me in as quickly as some of Kleypas’s historical romances, but I stuck with it because of the personal rec and Brittany Pressley’s easy-to-listen-to narration. The story is enjoyable enough, despite an underlying “mystery” that lacks real intrigue. All in all, it seems like fairly average contemporary romance... right up until the emotional gut-punch leaves you wrecked at the end of Act III. I couldn’t tell you why -- because again, nothing super special about our MCs or the plot -- but this novel had me crying all kinds of tears by the end. A strange, and strangely satisfying listen, but not necessarily one I’d recommend.

Just Like Heaven (Julia Quinn), aBook. I’ve been meaning to read a Julia Quinn for awhile; she’s a prolific heavy-hitter in the genre, and frankly it feels negligent not to have read her yet. I’ve hesitated, in part, because of purportedly questionable content in one of Quinn’s early titles, THE DUKE AND I. Reading reviews of that novel red-flagged Quinn’s entire catalogue for me (yes, it’s that bad). After reading plenty of reviews for JUST LIKE HEAVEN, I was pretty certain the egregious violations THE DUKE AND I weren’t being repeated, and the allure of Rosalyn Landor’s narration confirmed my choice. Long and short verdict: Meh. While I found our hero and heroine passably tolerable, there’s not much plot here. Instead, there’s an almost obsessive focus on one character’s recovery from an infection (gross), and when that chicken stops laying eggs, we’re asked to care about a quasi-farcical string quartet our other MC is forced to play in. The secondary characters introduced as potential leads for the rest of the quartet were either too stupid or too annoying for me to care about. If you’re hankering for historical romance, pass this over and just reread Tessa Dare for the millionth time (when will I start taking my own advice?).

Fable (hard cover) + Namesake (eBook ARC, pub date March 2021). Instagram mini-review of FABLE here. NetGalley review of NAMESAKE here. Adrienne Young is brilliant, full stop. I loved her previous duology -- SKY IN THE DEEP and THE GIRL THE SEA GAVE BACK -- and the Fable cycle does not disappoint. Strong, subtle characterizations; rich settings and evocative description; just enough mystical magic to make the world sparkle, but not enough to undermine the essential humanity of the story’s heart; and love of every stripe -- familial, romantic, friend, self -- driving the plot forward... could you even really ask for more? I devoured both halves of this gorgeous whole in a single weekend and I know you’ll love them both. Buy Fable ASAP and pre-order Namesake so Adrienne Young knows we know we don’t deserve her.

That’s it for me! On my radar this week:

Luster (Raven Leilani), aBook

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics (Olivia Waite), aBook

Lady Derring Takes a Lover (Julie Anne Long), aBook

The Smash-Up (Ali Benjamin), eBook ARC

The Heiress (Molly Greeley), eBook ARC

We Can Only Save Ourselves (Alison Wisdom), eBook ARC

Plus, the continuing saga, Will I ever finish WHEN WE WERE MAGIC? Stay tuned, and happy reading! 

[healthnotion]

21 Western Novels Every Man Should Read

“The western story, in its most usual forms, represents the American version of the ever appealing oldest of man’s legends about himself, that of the sun-god hero, the all-conquering valiant who strides through dangers undaunted, righting wrongs, defeating villains, rescuing the fair and the weak and the helpless — and the western story does this in terms of the common man, in simple symbols close to natural experience . . . depicting ordinary everyday men, not armored knights or plumed fancy-sword gentlemen, the products of aristocratic systems, but ordinary men who might be you and me or our next-door neighbors gone a-pioneering, doing with shovel or axe or gun in hand their feats of courage and hardihood.” —Jack Schaefer

The West has always held a strong place in the American psyche. From the earliest days, west represented the frontier of this nation. Whether it was Kentucky and Ohio or Colorado and Montana or Oregon and Alaska, as a people we’ve always moved westward. And once we crossed the Mississippi, we found a harsh environment unlike any other. Deserts and oases, flatlands and mountains; it was a land of environmental and climatic extremes.

It was in this land that the legend of the cowboy was born, particularly in the mid-to-late 1800s. As Western writer Jack Schaefer notes above, the cowboy embodied strains of the ancient chivalric code, but he wasn’t the aristocratic knight-in-shining-armor of England or even the pious, settled farmer of early America; rather, he was a kind of everyman hero: a regular man who yet was more autonomous, independent, and free than an ordinary fellow. Riding atop his trusty steed, he knew both how to protect others and how to survive himself, and evinced a taciturn, brass tacks, self-made nobility.

Odes to the American cowboy, in the form of the Western novel, started taking shape in the early 1900s, a decade after the U.S. Census Bureau declared that the frontier was closed; the books captured a nostalgia and romantic yearning for an era and way of life that was on its way out (and in some ways, never really was). Western novels mixed real-life detail with larger-than-life drama, as all great mythologies do.

The genre was easy to mass produce, and until the 1940s or so, the Western dime novel led the way. Quality writing and quality stories were hard to come by (though as you’ll find below, a few gems did make their way out into the public sphere). It was in the late ‘40s, and on into about the mid-’70s, where Western literature really came into its own. Louis L’Amour, Jack Schaefer, Edward Abbey — this was the era in which legends were born.

In the ‘80s and ‘90s, there was a bit of a downturn in the genre, though a couple lone outstanding works were produced. The ‘90s especially were a black hole, but then the 2000s and even through today have seen a bit of a resurgence in the genre. The old tropes of cattle drives and small town shootouts were played out, so writers started taking some more risks with storylines that have really paid off. I would say that we’ve actually entered another golden era of the Western in the last 20 years or so. Even though the sheer volume of works put out isn’t as great, the quality has tended to be superb. Mainstream publishers are leery of Westerns, so what ends up getting printed is rather good.

Over the last year or so, I’ve read through the canon of what’s considered to be the cream of the crop for Western literature. I consumed dozens of books, and have here narrowed them down to the best 21 that every man should read. I gave each author just a single book on the list (though I do mention other titles I enjoyed for certain authors) because I’m of the opinion that it’s better to read broadly in the genre than to dive whole hog into the works of just one fella. If you’ve read a couple L’Amour titles, you’ve read them all, and the same can be said for a number of other authors.

The list below encompasses all manner of styles, book lengths, storylines, etc. Before getting into it, though, we need to define the genre.

Defining the Western Genre

Simply being set in the West does not a Western make; if so, novels like East of Eden or Angle of Repose would be found here. While not every novel will satisfy every marker, each book listed here includes most of the following elements:

Geographically set west of the Mississippi River. While some very early Westerns are set in the likes of Kentucky and Ohio, the geography that really captured readers’ attention and defined the legend of the cowboy lies west of the Mississippi: Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Montana, etc. Also, Westerns don’t generally reach the West Coast.

Schaefer said this about the geographic setting of his genre:

“The bigness beyond the Mississippi was primarily open bigness, beckoning bigness — and also a violent, raw, capricious bigness: extremes of topography and climate beyond those of the east, the highest and lowest areas of the entire nation, the hottest and the coldest, the flattest and the ruggedest, the driest and the wettest.”

Takes place during the 19th century. The 1800s, and particularly the mid-to-late 1800s, was really the period of the Western frontiersman and cowboy. While the Machine Age was coming in the East, the West remained wild and untamed. Plenty of Westerns are set in the 20th century, but most on this list take place during the 1800s.

Characters are cowboys, ranchers, homesteaders, gunfighters/sheriffs/rangers, and/or frontiersmen. The career of a Western character is pretty limited, and centers on the aforementioned roles. To come West in the mid-to-late 1800s was generally to be one of those things. Horses also tend to play a large role and often, although not always, faithfully accompany a Western novel’s human characters.

Focus is often given to the harsh, but beautiful landscape. The land itself often plays a role as a main character in Westerns. Long descriptions of the environment are common, and nature’s obstacles — drought, storms, mountains, wild animals — frequently play a role in the main conflict or storyline. Main characters also tend to deeply care for and respect the wilderness and what it represents; even when hunting or ranching on the land, the men fight to preserve what’s natural and spurn the advances of modernity.

Contains characters who show skillfulness, toughness, resilience, and vitality. Whether cowboys or ranchers, the characters who populate Western novels typically share a common constellation of traits and qualities.

One is the possession of a broad, hard-nosed skillfulness. Cowboys and other Western types are adept at everything from roping and riding to hunting and cooking. They’re at home in a wild environment, and what they don’t have at hand, they can improvise.

Western characters also possess a notably flinty character. Schaefer again:

“If there is any one distinctive quality of the western story in its many variations, that quality is a pervasive vitality — a vitality not of action alone but of spirit behind the action . . . a healthy, forward facing attitude towards life.”

Westerns that contain the elements listed above invariably tend to have this less definable element present as well. It’s almost a byproduct of writing strong characters in a harsh landscape. Great Western novels are permeated with a sheer masculinity and spiritedness that’s hard to find in other genres.

21 Western Novels Every Man Should Read

Given the above set of criteria for inclusion, and selected for overall excellence in plot, characterization, readability, and so on, here are my picks for the best Western novels ever written, arranged chronologically by their date of publication:

The Log of a Cowboy by Andy Adams (1903)

Among the short list of very early Westerns (pre-1910 or so), you’ll often see Owen Wister’s The Virginian (1902) at the top. I didn’t find that title very readable though, and in fact gave up about halfway through. The Log of a Cowboy, on the other hand, was remarkably readable and easily held my attention the whole way.

Pulling together various real-life stories and anecdotes (including from his own experience of being a cowboy for over a decade), Adams chronicles a fictional Texas-to-Montana cattle drive through the eyes of young Tom Quirk. There isn’t much in the way of overarching plot or a central conflict, but it’s enjoyable nonetheless. From cattle runs, to brutal dry spells, to dangerous river crossings, to hostile Indians and outlaws, the reader really experiences all that an Old West cattle trail had to offer. And that includes the minutiae of paperwork, hours of boredom, how guard duties were divvied up, etc. Adams’ narrative is often considered the most realistic depiction of a cattle drive there ever was, and he in fact wrote the novel out of disgust for the unrealistic cowboy fiction being written at the time.

A hair dry, but recommended reading for any fan of Western novels. If you have any doubt about its place in the canon, you’ll quickly see how much Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove was inspired by Adams’ early novel; the outline of the plot is basically the same.  

Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey (1912)

Grey was the early king of the Western dime novel. His output was prolific, but the more he wrote, the more negative reviews he received from critics. (Critics are always skeptical of folks who seemingly write too much!) I don’t think those criticisms have merit, as I find much of Grey’s work to be eminently readable and entertaining today, especially given that most of his work was published over 100 years ago.

Riders of the Purple Sage, published in 1912, is definitely the best of the bunch, and is universally found on “Best Western Novels” lists for a reason.

A more complex plot than is often found in Westerns, the story follows Jane Withersteen, and her harassment at the hands of a group of Mormon fundamentalists. Elder Tull wants to marry Jane, but she refuses. As you can imagine, that’s when the trouble starts up, and she needs help from friends Bern Venters and a mysterious gunman named Lassiter who’s searching for a long-lost sister. There are a number of threads here, and some excellent plot twists. Again, it’s more complex — in a good way — than what you’d normally see in the genre.

Required reading for the fan of Western novels. Grey’s short stories/novellas are also very good (“Avalanche” being my favorite — though it’s a little hard to find).

The Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark (1940)

Cowboys Art Croft and Gil Carter have ridden into Bridger’s Wells, Nevada to find a charged atmosphere. Cattle have been disappearing (likely stolen) and a man named Kinkaid has just been murdered. The townsfolk are mad as heck and looking for justice. Factions form almost immediately; one group wants to capture the suspected culprits on the up and up — to get the judge and sheriff involved and make sure no untoward behavior happens. Another group wants to form a posse to go after the rustlers — vigilante-style — and take care of business with Wild West justice: a hanging at sunrise. They argue that using the legal system takes too darn long and that too often men get off scot-free.

A posse indeed forms and eventually catches up to the alleged rustlers. Are the men lynched? Are they given a chance at a fair trial back in the town of Bridger’s Wells? Are they set free?

While not as fast-paced as many Westerns on this list, the morality tale encased within its 80-year-old pages remains remarkably relevant. It’s an ethics discussion about mob mentality clothed in cowboy flannel and leather holsters. While other Western writers of the era — like L’Amour and Grey — could be said to romanticize the West and its heroes, Clark is more comparable to Dashiell Hammett. All the characters, protagonists and antagonists alike, have deep flaws, and the reader can’t quite decide who he’s siding with, if it’s anyone at all.

Shane by Jack Schaefer (1949)

Shane is considered by many the best Western novel of all-time. It’s compact, but that just means every page is stocked with virile energy — much like Shane himself, the book’s main character.

Narrated by young Bob Starrett, the story follows his version of events in a small outpost in the Wyoming Territory. Seemingly out of nowhere, the mysterious Shane (Is it his first name? Last name? Made-up name?) rides into town on the back of a horse and takes up temporary residence at the Starrett home. Shane becomes close to the family, and Bob especially comes to see the rider as a mythical, godlike figure. Meanwhile, cattle driver and all-around bad dude Luke Fletcher is trying to take land from a group of homesteaders (the Starretts included). I won’t give away anything else other than to say that Shane is involved in the bad guys’ dispersal.

The pure masculinity of the novel, and of Shane himself, is unrivaled in Western literature. If you aren’t stirred by this novel, you don’t have blood running through your veins. Shane is absolutely a top 3 Western novel. Schaefer’s Monte Walsh is also superb. 

Hondo by Louis L’Amour (1953)

No mention of Western novels is complete without a nod to L’Amour. His books alone could keep you reading for about a decade at a pace of one a month. I read a handful, and have to agree with most others that Hondo is his best. Interestingly, the John Wayne film came first, and L’Amour then novelized that (although the movie was inspired by a L’Amour short story — it’s a bit circular).

Hondo Lane is a quintessential man of the Southwest, shaped as much by the desert landscape as anything else. A former cavalry officer, Lane has had to learn the Apache ways in order to survive in the harsh environment. After escaping an ambush, he comes upon the homestead of Angie Lowe and her young son, with the husband and father nowhere to be found. Throw the warrior Vittoro into the mix, and you get a dramatic story of love, war, and honor that is as representative of the Western genre as a story can be.    

Now, with the sheer number of titles he produced, L’Amour’s stories admittedly tend to run together a bit. They’re also slightly formulaic, and you wouldn’t really classify his writing as lyrical or Pulitzer-worthy. But, his books are just really entertaining. It’s like how the Fast and Furious movies aren’t going to win any awards, but I’ll be damned if I’m not watching every one of ‘em for their sheer entertainment value.

Kilkenny and The Tall Stranger were a couple other L’Amour favorites for me.

The Searchers by Alan Le May (1954)

If there’s a Moby Dick story to be had in this list, it’s Le May’s The Searchers. While the movie is often seen as one of the greatest Western films of all-time, the book deserves its place of recognition as well. 

With one of the most devastating openings on this list, a Comanche raid destroys the entire Edwards family, killing the men folk and kidnapping the women. What follows is a years-long quest by Marty (a virtually-adopted young man who’s part of the Edwards family) and Amos (the Edwards’ patriarch’s brother) to find the missing women. If you’ve seen the movie, you know roughly how the rest of the tale goes, and if you haven’t, I won’t give away anything else. 

The book deserves a place on this list because of its sprightly and realistic writing, but also because it portrays the difficulties early homesteaders had in trying to make a life on the oft-dangerous frontier. While indeed some Native Americans were harshly portrayed as violent savages, the reality is that many were indeed incredibly violent and didn’t take kindly to new people settling in their territories. 

The Brave Cowboy by Edward Abbey (1956)

Edward Abbey is a legend of environmental, anarchist, and Western writing. He penned essays, novels, and non-fiction works, including Desert Solitaire, which makes an appearance on a number of Best Non-Fic Books of All-Time lists.

The Brave Cowboy indeed falls into the Western novel category, but it’s also more than that. Particularly, it’s a lament of how the modern world — which was the 1950s at the time of the book’s writing — is taking something away from our lives and perhaps more importantly, from our lands. The era of jet planes and city streets was taking over.

Cowboy Jack Burns is a roaming ranch hand in 1950s New Mexico who refuses to join modern society. (The scenes of his horse — named Whisky — crossing highways and tentatively walking on pavement are rather memorable.) This alone makes it stand out from other cowboy stories, which are almost always set in the 1800s. Burns tries to break his pal Paul Bondi out of prison, but things don’t go quite as planned, and Burns ends up on the run with nothing but his guitar and his trusty steed.

From there, it’s a gripping cat-and-mouse story set in the desert. Abbey’s descriptions of the landscape are breathtaking and unmatched in Western literature.

Butcher’s Crossing by John Williams (1960)

In my opinion, Butcher’s Crossing is the most underrated book of the Western genre. You’ve probably never heard of it, but it should be on your reading list ASAP.

Considered one of the first to de-romanticize life on the frontier, the story is set in the 1870s and follows young Will Andrews, who has ditched Harvard, and been inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson to come West in order to find . . . something. Meaning? Purpose? Himself? All the above, most likely.

Butcher’s Crossing is the small Kansas town he lands in before shortly thereafter joining a buffalo hunting expedition that heads into the mountains of Colorado. They deal with everything the Old West has to offer: extreme dehydration and thirst, early snowfalls, feisty animals (both domestic and wild), and raging spring-time rivers — all set within a merciless buffalo hunt (slaughter, really). Andrews learns some hard truths not only about the land, but about his own make up. But, he also does find something meaningful, and ultimately has to choose between going back East, or venturing even further West. I legitimately didn’t know what he’d choose to do until the very end (and I won’t tell you, of course), which is a sign of a superbly-written character.

Robert Olmstead’s recent Savage Country also takes on the buffalo hunt plot line, and while it’s rather good, Butcher’s Crossing was far better.

Little Big Man by Thomas Berger (1964)

Berger writes the fictional life story of Jack Crabb, who is our 111-year-old narrator. Crabb is thrust into Cheyenne Indian life as a young boy in the mid-1800s after his family is massacred while traveling west. From there, the story jumps back and forth between Crabb’s various forays in and out of the worlds of Indians and white men. Along the way, we run into numerous famed real-life characters of the West, including Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, and in particular, General Custer (Crabb claims to be the sole white survivor of the Battle of Little Bighorn).  

It’s partially satire, but also rather accurately portrays both the unfortunate stereotypes ascribed to American Indians as well as the reality of their lives on the plains. There are plenty of hard-to-believe plot twists, but that’s part of the book’s semi-outlandish and epic nature.

It’s largely written as a narrative, with little in the way of dialogue, so it’s not a quick read. It’s extremely well written though, and in a more authentic voice than many Westerns are. It actually reminded me of Lonesome Dove in terms of its writing style — which is about as high a compliment as can be given.

True Grit by Charles Portis (1968)

Though the story has twice been turned into a feature film, it was Portis’ short 1968 novel which first introduced the public to two of the most memorable, and naturally, grittiest, characters in Western history: 14-year-old Mattie Ross and one-eyed US Marshal Rooster Cogburn.

An older Ross narrates the story of the time she sought revenge for the murder of her father. Young Mattie ventures to Fort Smith, Arkansas to find a man who would help her on this quest. She decides on Cogburn — who has a penchant for violence and a quick trigger finger — because she believes he has the “grit” to get the job done (which means, of course, the disposal of the murderer). Cogburn agrees, but is incensed when Mattie insists on coming along; he tries to lose her a number of times, but Ross displays her own tenacity and keeps right up.

The language and dialogue is almost over-the-top old-timey — and therefore comes across a little unrealistically (it does work especially well with this story for some reason, though!). Despite that, Portis writes some of the most memorable scenes of the entire genre. If you’re afraid of snakes, there’s one in particular that might haunt your dreams.

The Time It Never Rained by Elmer Kelton (1973)

Voted by his peers in the Western Writers Association as the greatest Western writer of all time, and recipient of a record 7 Spur Awards, Kelton authored a number of books that could appear on this kind of list. I read a handful, and thoroughly enjoyed each and every one; the best of the bunch, though, in my opinion, is The Time It Never Rained.

West Texas had suffered through droughts before, but nothing like the real-life destructive dry spell of the 1950s. Kelton tells the story of this drought through fictional aging rancher Charlie Flagg. As the drought gets worse with every passing season, nobody — from the Flores family (the loyal ranch hands), to twenty-something aspiring rodeo cowboy Tom Flagg (Charlie’s son), to local bankers and landowners, to the numerous Mexican migrants coming across the border looking for food and work — remains unscathed.

Ultimately, the townsfolk start either drifting away, or turning to the government for provisions. Flagg, though, a bit of a stubborn curmudgeon, spurns federal help and tries to stick to his self-reliance through it all. Will he make it through the drought, or will the harsh conditions force him to leave behind the only life he’s ever known? Not only does Kelton create relatable, memorable characters that you’ll find yourself rooting for, but he paints a vivid picture of the hold Mother Nature had on Western towns and families.

There are few writers whose entire canon ends up on my to-read list, but Kelton is one.

Centennial by James Michener (1974)

If you’re looking for a single book that encapsulates all of Western lit’s sub-genres, Michener’s epic, 900-page Centennial is the way to go. Although set in and named for a fictional northeastern Colorado town, the book actually begins well before any town is established. In fact, Michener begins with a chapter of the geological beginnings and even the dinosaurs of America’s western landscape. From there, each chapter covers an aspect of typical Western lit, all set in or around the town of Centennial: Indian life, hunters and trappers moving from east to west, battles between whites and natives, buffalo hunts, cattle drives, and more. Where Centennial goes further is its depiction of western life after the 1800s, when farming and small-town crime and Mexican immigration all come to play a part in daily life.

At 900 pages, it’s not a quick or necessarily easy read. (You might think that’d be obvious, but a tome like Lonesome Dove is in fact both quick and easy.) The nice thing, though, is that each chapter, although long, is only loosely connected to each other chapter. The novel roughly follows a family tree over the course of centuries, but the plot points differ and the chapters can in fact almost be read as short stories.

Indeed, Michener’s lyrical writing is magnificent, and it’s a joy to read a chapter of it every now and then (at least that’s how I did it).

The Shootist by Glendon Swarthout (1975)

How many different ways can the story of a Western gunman really be told? Glendon Swarthout took that challenge and created the exceptional tale of dying gunman J.B. Books.

Having been diagnosed with terminal prostate cancer, the nefarious gunfighter decides that he’ll spend his dying days in El Paso. The town is none-too-happy about his being there and tries to convince him to leave, but he stubbornly stays. Being an infamous man, various folks come out of the woodwork when word gets around that he’s dying in El Paso, including journalists hoping for a story and other gunmen looking to bolster their reputation by killing Books.

You’d think the story would perhaps be more about Books recounting his life stories, but it’s really just about those last few months and an older man trying to somewhat redeem his sordid reputation. And the way Books chooses to go out on his own terms at the end is as memorable a scene as you’ll ever come across.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford by Ron Hansen (1983)

Hansen’s 1983 novel verges on true-to-life biography of the (in)famous bank robber Jesse James, and his assassin, young Bob Ford. Somewhat lacking in the way of action — the James Gang robberies are only briefly covered — it’s mostly a character study of the eccentric James, and his obsessive, devoted minion, Bob Ford.

It was only when Ford was convinced that James would kill him (and when the reward money became too high to ignore) that the 20-year-old killed James in his own home, while his back was turned and his gun holsters removed. Ford figured he’d be a hero, but while he was pardoned by the Missouri governor, he became a bit of an outcast. He was a terribly interesting figure himself, and in fact the final quarter or so of the book covers Ford’s life after the murder.

Hansen noted that he didn’t stray from any known facts or even dialogue; he just imagined some of the scenes and added more detail than was perhaps known. It’s not a quick read, but sure a good one.  

Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry (1985)

There’s a reason I’ve often compared the other books on this list to Larry McMurtry’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Lonesome Dove: it can readily be considered the Western against which all others are judged. Of the many dozens of books I read in compiling this list, Lonesome Dove was, without a doubt, the best.

The story is a seemingly simple one: two long-time friends — Augustus (Gus) McCrae and Woodrow Call, along with a ragtag group of ranch hands — embark on a cattle drive from the Rio Grande to Montana. Along the way they encounter outlaws, Indians, old flames, and plenty more. McMurtry takes 800+ pages to tell this story, but it’s so good that you’ll be rather sad when it comes to an end (which it will do far too quickly).  

There are three other books in the series as well. While Lonesome Dove was the first and best of the bunch, the others are also great: Streets of Laredo (1993), Dead Man’s Walk (1995), and Comanche Moon (1997). Read them by internal chronological order if you’d like (in which case LD is third), but you don’t have to. I read ‘em in the order they were published, and I didn’t feel like I was missing anything.

If you read one Western in your life, make it Lonesome Dove.

The Revenant by Michael Punke (2002)

More survival story than true Western, but the setting — 1820s Wyoming and Montana — merits its place on this list. If you’ve seen the award-winning movie you know the broad outlines of the plot: After being savagely attacked by a bear, frontiersman Hugh Glass is barely alive. His comrades carry him along for a couple days, but he slows the group’s pace too much. They decide that Glass will die any day now, and leave him behind with two men who are tasked with caring for him until that time comes, and then burying him. The two men leave early however, taking all of Glass’s supplies. Against all odds, Glass regains consciousness, sets his own broken leg, and crawls/hobbles his way over 200 miles to the nearest outpost, even allowing maggots to eat his dead flesh in order to prevent gangrene.  

While elements have certainly been embellished over the years, it’s based on an unbelievable true story. Unlike the movie version, which is largely fictionalized and diverts quite a bit from original historical accounts, the novel on which that movie is based stuck to them as much as possible, with just conversations and thoughts being imagined.

The scenes of primitive self-surgery, belly-crawling miles through hard terrain, and hunting and foraging with no tools whatsoever are the stuff of survival legend. It’s like Hatchet on steroids and for adults. While you’ll certainly read it quickly, the story won’t soon leave your mind.

No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy (2005)

McCarthy has a number of Western novels that could qualify for this list, but my own favorite by far was 2005’s No Country for Old Men.

Unlike many Westerns on this list, it’s set in the relatively modern 1980s, on the border of Texas and Mexico. While hunting in the desert, Llewelyn Moss stumbles upon a drug deal gone bad, and claims for himself two million bucks he finds amongst the carnage. Of course, that missing cash isn’t going to go unnoticed, and almost immediately Moss is hunted by some really bad dudes, including one of the most terrifying villains in Western history, Anton Chigurh.

The best parts of the story, in my opinion, center around the aging Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, who investigates the crime and sets out to protect Moss and his young wife Carla Jean. As is a staple of the genre, Bell laments how things are changing in the West. He can’t keep up with the increasing, senseless violence. Can he manage to protect the Mosses? You’ll have to read to find out (or watch the excellent movie).

Perhaps surprisingly, I didn’t care for McCarthy’s near-universally-praised Blood Meridian, and although the Border Trilogy was enjoyable, I see No Country for Old Men as McCarthy’s can’t-miss Western.

The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt (2011)

Eli and Charles Sisters — the Sisters brothers — are assassins who’ve been hired to kill a prospector in 1850s California. They’ve been told by their employer — the Commodore — that this prospector is a thief. Of course, the truth is a little more complex than that.

As with many Westerns, the Sisters’ sibling relationship is also complex. There’s jealousy, disdain, even anger. But ultimately, there’s a deep-seated familial love for each other. For a modern novel, the language deWitt uses — in the form of brother Eli’s narration — is surprisingly believable as coming from the place and time period. There’s also plenty of humor and misadventure to go along with the seriousness of the plot. It’s a good balance, and one that many of the best Western novels tend to find.

The Son by Philipp Meyer (2013)

Spanning a handful of generations of the McCullough family, the story is told largely through the lives of three main characters: Colonel Eli, his son Peter, and his great-granddaughter Jeanna. 

The Colonel survived a Comanche raid as a kid and lived with the tribe for 3 years. When he returned, he eventually became a Texas Ranger, and then a rancher, and often feuded with the neighboring Garcia family. The son, Peter, is a disgrace to the Colonel because he’s soft and falls in love with a Garcia daughter. Jeanne spends many formative years with the Colonel, and she’s been the one to acquire his drive for business and empire. In her later years though, she contemplates who will take over the family business in a world that’s quickly abandoning its uses for cattle and oil.

It’s a history of the West, within a family epic set in Texas. It chronicles both the cowboy and rancher ways of the Old West, along with how that culture largely disappeared as the world modernized.  

El Paso by Winston Groom (2016)

Winston Groom is most well-known for penning 1986’s Forrest Gump, as well as a treasure trove of masterful and wide-ranging history books. In 2016, for the first time in about 20 years, Groom published a new novel — a fantastic Western called El Paso.

It’s the story of a kidnapping in the midst of Pancho Villa’s Mexican Revolution. Villa takes hostage the grandkids of a wealthy railroad magnate, and what follows is a rollicking tale of an eclectic cast of characters trying to get them back. What’s great about the book is how many real life characters Groom peppers in: Ambrose Bierce (who has a fascinating story of his own), Woodrow Wilson, George S. Patton (whose auspicious start came in the Mexican Revolution), and a few other railroad tycoons.

The book really has everything: gunfights, romantic drama, an epic bull fight, a cross-country race between a train and an airplane, and some history lessons about America’s first armed conflict of the 20th century. It’s nearly 500 pages, but reads very quickly, and deserves a spot among the best Westerns of this new era of the genre.

Dragon Teeth by Michael Crichton (2017)

Taking on a forgotten aspect of Western exploration, legendary techno-thriller author Michael Crichton originally wrote Dragon Teeth in 1974, but it wasn’t published until just last year, almost a decade after his death. Set in the 1870s, the fictional story follows the real-life “Bone Wars” between dinosaur hunters Othniel Marsh and Edward Cope.

Back then, there was a lot of glory (and of course money) to be had in discovering dinosaur bones, particularly out West. This led to some ruthless rivalries, most notably between Marsh and Cope. In Dragon Teeth, William Johnson is a fictional Yale student who takes a summer to work for the two dino hunters (how he comes to work for not just one but both of them is for you to find out).

It’s a super fun, entertaining, swashbuckling story about a little-known aspect of the West. Beyond just cattle drives and buffalo hunts, the Bone Wars really captured America’s imagination and spirit of adventure.

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