One of the things I try to do as a writer is to read widely and to learn something from every other writer I can find. Fortunately, the writing community is strong, and there are plenty of people willing to share with me and teach me new perspectives and techniques. As part of that community, I’m doing a series of occasional interviews with other writers across a variety of markets and genres.
My interview today is with another pulp author who writes in the Weird Western genre, who has self-published his first novel, His Ragged Company: A Testimony of Elias Faust, available at Amazon. You can find out more about him and his writing at his website, or by following him on Twitter at @ViolenceObscene.
DAVE: You write in the Weird Western genre, and His Ragged Company is part pulp Western and part Lovecraftian occult mystery. How did you come up with the idea and what attracted you to the Weird genre?
RANCE: I don't know if there was a specific time where the idea struck me at once, but rather, it sort of hit me over and over in the jaw over the course of a few years. Originally I was just writing a western. I'd gotten burnt out on my attempts at fantasy and science-fiction, and wanted to write something steeped in genre tropes, so I thought I'd lean back into something inspired by what I'd grown up with: namely, the stories told in radio dramas. Granted, I was an 80s baby, but my Dad was born in '31, so I came to love a lot of what he did. I enjoyed the adventure of The Lone Ranger and the mystery and oddities of The Shadow. These tales grew into popularity right on the heels of the Conan stories and The Hobbit, so looking back, they went together hand-in-hand.
Halfway through writing a series of short, low-stakes Western stories, I realized I missed playing with the unknown. Magic started subtly finding its way into the world, and then eventually took it over—hopefully without abandoning too much of the reality that I like in there, too!
DAVE: I think that's really neat, writing in one genre then switching to another. My dad isn't nearly as old as your father, but I too greatly enjoy the early-to-mid-century pulp feel, although I trace my work back more to Raymond Chandler and Dasheill Hammett than to the era's radio dramas. That said, they both spring from the same sort of collective well of culture, where square-jawed heroes matched against dastardly villains. What other writers, in the genre or out, do you admire?
RANCE: I have to be fully honest: I'm not too well-versed in cosmic horror or even Weird Westerns in general! As far as other influences, Robert Parker wrote dialogue that snapped and seemed simple but had so much power, and his characters could say one word and tell a whole damn story. Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man is sublime and surreal and frighteningly earthbound. Of course, Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files really shaped my appreciation of what a long-lasting, multi-book series could achieve.
Sometimes I think it's the lack of admiration that drives me to want to write in these genres. Lovecraft developed some wild ideas, but he was a damn racist mess, and a lot of Wild West stories are regularly filled with really problematic tropes that highlight the supposed chivalry of colonization while avoiding the real issues: that pioneers, frontiersmen, and white Americans were viciously destroying land and culture to claim it as their own. Sure, I wanted to write an adventure that could have its Saturday morning fun, but also recognized its roots and could try to subvert the more problematic elements of these genres.
DAVE: Lovecraft is definitely one of those figures whose genius we can admire even while we recognize that as an actual person, he was no one to emulate, that's for sure. He did leave a big mark on the Weird genre, though, that's for sure. A reminder that people have many sides, not all of them admirable. Good characters are often the same way. When it comes to your characters, where do you start building them?
RANCE: You give me too much credit, presuming I plan too much beforehand! A lot of the time, they honestly just come into their own: I start with a basic idea of what they want and, hopefully, it's in contradiction with what they actually get.
DAVE: Is that how it worked for His Ragged Company?
RANCE: Yes, the protagonist Elias Faust doesn't have a damn clue what he wants because I didn't have a damn clue what he wanted, so he floats around without much of a personal purpose until one's given to him by forces beyond his understanding. Most of their wants are pretty ground-level: Grady Cicero wants to satisfy his base urges with drinking and pleasure; the fighting-pit proprietor, Miss Garland, wants to make some good money.
What I came to find was that a lot of those desires fled them when they came into contact with creatures, powers, and ideas beyond their understanding. So I got to learn about each of them brand new: what would they want in this new world where the rules aren't quite right? What would they do to survive at all costs? Who would they be loyal to or screw over to get it?
DAVE: I know all those questions didn't get answered for everyone at the end of His Ragged Company, so where do Elias and crew go from there? What are you working on, and how long will the series be?
RANCE: Oh, you mean when I'm not cultivating this lifelong love-affair with anxiety? Right now, I'm piercing together the follow-up to His Ragged Company, which follows two other characters from the messed-up little town of Blackpeak as they come to terms with the aftermath of the first novel. Unlike His Ragged Company, it's written in third-person, so I'm hoping people are willing to take a little bit of a different ride.
But truthfully, I have no idea how long the series will go! I originally thought five books, then it turned into a conceptual seven, and then a title for a later one popped into my head. I'll probably be helluva dead by then, so let's not hold our breath. I'd love to at least hit five, though—so we'll see!
DAVE: Five is a lot of writing, especially if they're all the size of His Ragged Company—I feel bad for interrupting your writing time! That said, when you're not working on sequels, do you write outside the genre?
RANCE: I do, and thanks for asking. I'm an unrepentant Mary Shelley-phile, so I've got a young adult book bouncing around this computer that tosses a teenaged Mary Godwin (before she meets that strange poet fellow) into a supernatural struggle that involves a terrible secret society, a failed American revolution, and maybe some corpse-raising. For me, I can't help but tweak and alter history and play around with those what-ifs. If I can sprinkle some of the occult in there, that's a bonus.
DAVE:
That sounds pretty neat. Mary Shelley would approve, I think, and secret societies have an enduring appeal that stretches almost as far back as the printing press, I think. You've got quite the full plate, and on that note, I'd like to know what you wish you'd known earlier in your writing career. What advice do you have for other writers?
RANCE: For one, probably best not to listen to a damn thing I could ever tell you. If I open my mouth anywhere—in person, on social media, anywhere—about advice, immediately file it under "Don't Listen To This." So now that that's out of the way, if someone does want some advice:
1) Be kind to yourself. You don't have to write every day. You don't even have to write for a few months, or even a year. There's this pressure out there to produce-produce-produce. That's all bunk, I think. We're fragile, emotional, flawed people who aren't perfect and yet strive every day to be. Write when it matters to you, and when there's room in your life for it.
2) Mow the lawn. That's when the best ideas come to me. Or on long drives. And annoy your loved ones with your ideas. Tell them all about them. They're probably not savvy enough to steal them. As a teacher, the first thing I tell my students when they begin writing anything is to just talk about it. Give yourself five, ten, fifteen uninterrupted minutes where you can just bullshit to someone who'll listen. Ideas will form. They have to.
3) The moments in movies, books, and games that make you feel? Write those. In The Empire Strikes Back, Han Solo sees Darth Vader in Cloud City and doesn't talk, doesn't banter. He just shoots. He knows a bad dude when he sees one and doesn't hesitate. It's not the best choice. It's also irreconcilably Han, and without any words, we see just how much this guy has grown from that time when he shot Greedo in the cantina. I wanted that same feeling, so I took it. It's not stealing, it's not plagiarism. (This is bad advice, but hey, just be responsible. Don't entirely steal someone else's ideas, but incorporate what makes them work.) Keep singing those good songs over and over again at the right time.
4) Make something awesome. Make something that kicks ass. You don't have to bleed onto the page. Just mess it up a little. Then tell people you bled onto the page and you gave it your all.
DAVE: "Make something that kicks ass" is great advice. I think whether you're writing literary fiction or genre fiction or just whatever, always striving to make it is kickass as you can is what you've got to aim for. I'm reminded of something one of my writing mentors, Tom LeClair told me personally and then later repeated in his What to Read (And Not), which was to "fail big." That is, write something so big and so important and so full of life that even if you fail to achieve exactly what you aimed for, you fail trying your heart out and you leave something momentous behind. I read an interview with Marlon James from 2014 where he said much the same thing, to put it out there and swing for the fences rather than trying to hide behind fear or genre or style limitations. "Make something that kicks ass," indeed.
Thanks so much for answering my questions, and I hope all my readers will go give
His Ragged Company
a look!