Strengthening Your Western Horror

You may have noticed that we’re big into western horror here at Undertaker Books. We’ve got two western horror series, and are currently holding an open call for western horror short stories. Our first call as a company was for western horror novellas!

So yeah, it’s a bit of a big deal for us.

Today on our blog, let's talk about some things that will cause him to bury you in a fire ant nest! I have pet peeves when it comes to western horror, and if you violate them, well, you better hope Jackie Chan comes by with a pair of chopsticks… (if you don’t get this, I have a movie you need to watch!)

It’s one of the biggest western tropes: "Cowboys vs. Indians." Hell, a lot of us played it as little kids. But now we’re grown up--we know more, and we know better--and our view and understanding of Indigenous peoples should have evolved, too. 

That’s the first thing that bugs me. I rarely use the word “Indians” in my stories (except in dialogue, because people in that era would have used it; or in a name, like the French & Indian Wars). It’s always “Natives” or the name of the tribe. Is it pedantic of me? Sure. But if you’re going to use natives as a foil, I think you at least need to show them the respect of acknowledging they were here first.

I’d also add that the stories we’ve been told about Indian Wars and taming the west have another side to them. I highly recommend Robert J. Conley’s The Cherokee Nation, A History to anyone intending to write western horror, to get a deeper perspective from the “enemy’s” point of view.

Most western authors, beginning and experienced, give their hero a Colt Army Model 1873, better known as the “Peacemaker.” Then, inevitably, you come across a line like this later in the story:

(It ain’t the size of the wound either, I like bloody carnage as much as the next guy.)

The Colt Peacemaker is a single-action revolver. What that means is, you can’t just pull the trigger and expect a watermelon-sized hole to appear in your target. You have to manually cock the gun before it will fire. You may see this described as “thumbing the hammer back.” It’s also how the trope of a bad guy sneaking up behind the hero and announcing his presence by cocking the gun was born.

Now, were there guns with triggers you could just pull and make a hole in your target? Yep. They’re called double-action and became more prominent later in the 19th century.

The point I’m trying to make here is that I’m a detail-oriented pain in the ass guns can be characters in their own right, with unique characteristics that can play into your story and create either a dependable partner or a stubborn liability for your characters.

Your character’s horse is not a car, capable of driving at top speed all day, parking for the night, then getting up and going all day again. It is a living, breathing creature that needs rest and care, just like your human characters.

Do you always have to show this? No. But if you can, it’s a nice little tidbit to provide realism. 

If you want to see a great example of working this into your prose, check out Hell Hath No Fury and the rest of the John Hawk series by Charles West.

There should be a solid relationship between a character and their horse, because a lot of the time, they’re each other’s only friend, riding across the open country. The horse should have a name, it should get treats, and the rider should take care of it before he takes care of themself. If they’re going to be in a town overnight, the horse needs to be boarded at a livery stable.

No matter if the character is a hero or a villain, they should ALWAYS take care of their horse.

One of the things about western horror is that the villains will usually either be human or have some kind of human tendencies. 

Build on that.

Give us villains we can hate, but kind of empathize with. Don’t just throw a one-dimensional character into the story and make them the enemy. 

Brennan LaFaro does a good job of this in his book Noose with Noose Holcomb, the antagonist. Noose is the bad guy, but he’s also been through some shit, and while you’re pleased when he finally gets what’s coming, you also kind of feel bad for the guy.

So right now you’re probably thinking, “okay, this guy wants hyper-realistic western horror…” 
To which I say: No.

My main character is a half-white, half-Latina bounty hunter. In my newest release, she fights a town full of demons in the New Mexico desert. Westerns are speculative fiction, which means making shit up is part of the fun. 

But, it’s also important to be grounded in reality and cover the basics too. Know your guns. Don’t disrespect the Natives. Take care of the horses. Create complex villains. Doing these things will make your western horror stronger, which will allow your readers to lose themselves in the narrative.