The Joy Wheel

Paul Warren Fairman (1909-1977) was the founding editor of the science-fiction magazine If and the editor of Amazing Stories, Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, and Fantastic. As a prolific novelist, Fairman authored the spy series The Man from S.T.U.D. (as F.W. Paul) and contributed to genres like westerns, gothics, crime-noir, young-adult fiction, and television and film tie-ins. 

My first experience with Fairman's writing is his crime novel The Joy Wheel. The book was originally published as a paperback by Lion in 1954. Stark House Press imprint Black Gat Books chose to reprint the book in a new edition as their 73rd release.

Eddie is a high school kid growing up in the 1920s in Chicago. Prohibition is in full-swing and many average blue-collar men are now making a side hustle running the moonshine gauntlet through rival criminal networks and the crack-down police force. Eddie's Uncle Frank, an alcoholic that comes and goes throughout Fairman's addictive narrative, is a moonshine boozer that is near death due to the physical toll of alcoholism. 

Frank's daughter Helen is forced to live with Eddie and his family. This creates a sexual tension between the two cousins. Helen is consumed by inner turmoil with the breakup of her family due to Frank's alcoholism while Eddie is a tenth-grade hormonal time bomb. The two highly-charged emotional states are drawn together to create an irresistible passion. But, this is just one issue affecting Eddie's young life. 

This coming-of-age tale presents a timestamp on an era of American history marked by financial ruin, heightened criminal activity, and new discoveries for Americans searching for opportunity. Eddie quits school to pursue entry level opportunities in the gambling and moonshine racket. He routinely fights with his older sister Gloria, the most mature family member. She's on the cusp of marriage and a new life out west. However, Eddie finds fault with her relationship with their father, a man that Eddie idolizes but soon realizes is emotionally and ethically scarred.

Eddie's journey through sexual revolution, criminality, domestic difficulties, and a fevered concern for tomorrow makes for an enthralling read that is delightful in presentation and meaning. Fairman, while known for his far-flung science-fiction adventures, certainly had a knack for charming crime-noir. This is a thoroughly enjoyable read with a memorable end-of-innocence experience. Highly recommended. Get it HERE.

School Mistress of the Mad

Bruno Fisher often used the name Russell Gray or Harrison Storm to write graphic horror stories in the early to mid 20th century. Many of these stories were published in pulp magazines like Terror Tales, Dime Mystery Magazine, Sinister Stories, and Spicy Horror Stories. I've read a number of these including "School Mistress of the Mad". It was originally published in the January-February 1939 issue of Terror Tales. 

Doom is the name of a town nestled in the mountains populated by an inferior race of idiots looked down upon by the good people of nearby Amton. Chet is on sabbatical from his city job chilling out in sleepy Amton when he meets a beautiful woman named Linda driving through town headed into Doom. Stopping to ask directions, she discloses that she’s been hired as the new schoolteacher for the Town of Doom. As she drives deeper into the mountains, Chet can’t get her off his mind.

Chet learns that Doom was settled during the American Revolutionary War by a family named Gring who have reproduced and lived there ever since with no contact from the outside world. Generations of inbreeding have made the Gring clan into beast-like idiots.

The idea of the Grings hiring a beautiful schoolteacher in an illiterate town without a school defies logic. Meanwhile, several young women from the town of Amton have become missing lately. Could the Grings be taking some illegal measures to increase Doom’s genetic diversity? Chet sets off to Doom to investigate and maybe save Linda from the hillbillies fifteen miles away.

The author does a great job of building the dread and suspense for the reader who’s left wondering how bad it could be in Doom. I’m happy to report that the Grings clan is worse than you could imagine. This story is chilling and frightening if you enjoy crazed hillbilly stories in the vein of Deliverance or The Hills Have Eyes. It’s hard to believe that the story 82 years-old and still packs such a visceral punch.

You can read this story and other Fischer horror tales in the collection Hostess in Hell and Other Stories. Get it HERE.

Dig Me No Grave

The February 1937 issue of Weird Tales featured Robert E. Howard's horror story “Dig Me No Grave”. The iconic Texas author was paid $100 for the story shortly before he died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in 1936. The story was later published in The Dark Man and Others by Arkham House in 1963, Fawcett's Eight Strange Tales in 1972, and Zebra's Pigeons from Hell in 1976. My version is from the Baen 1996 paperback Beyond the Borders.

The story begins when John Kirowan is awakened from his sleep at midnight by his good friend John Conrad. Conrad is in a panic state as he explains that a man named John Grimlan has just died (what is it with all the “Johns”?). A conversation ensues between Kirowan and Conrad over Grimlan's bizarre life living in a world of mysticism and the occult.

Grimlan had lived abroad for many years and rumors circulated that his physical appearance seemingly never aged. Conrad explains that a Count had once stated that Grimlan is a very old man, yet his appearance is youthful. Years ago, Grimlan had asked Conrad to look after his body upon his death. He provided a sealed envelope containing specific instructions. Now, Conrad wants Kirowan's assistance in returning to Grimlan's house and following the instructions laid out. It's here that Grimlan's corpse lies undisturbed just hours since his death.

“Dig Me No Grave” possesses a vivid atmosphere and mood that is draped in this wickedly dark tapestry. Howard, this late in his writing career, had perfected the horror story and he puts his talent to work describing Grimlan's dark house on the hill, the bleak midnight hour, and offers a delightful buffet of descriptions about the evil forces at work within Grimlan's life. The central portion of the story's narrative is the bizarre instructions left behind by Grimlan, orders that the contents of his estate be left to...the Devil! Interesting enough, Howard includes Lovecraft's Yog-Sothoth and Cthulhu references as well as his own Shuma-Gorath entity (first mentioned in Howard's “The Curse of the Golden Skull”) and Kathulos of Atlantis (found in the author's 1929 novella Skull-Face).

These two characters, Kirowan and Conrad, have been featured in other Howard stories, shorts like “The Children of the Night”, “The Haunter of the Ring”, and “The Thing on the Roof”. All of these have Cthulhu references.

“Dig Me No Grave” was adapted into comic form by Roy Thomas and Gil Kane in Marvel's Journey Into Mystery in 1972.

Paperback Warrior Primer - Bill Gulick

Grover C. Gulick (1916-2013), known as Bill Gulick, wrote a ton of western stories in the pulp magazines in the 1940s and 1950s. His career is laced with both fiction and non-fiction, marked by winning two coveted Spur Awards, earning him a two-year presidency of Western Writers of America, and receiving accolades from the Cowboy Hall of Fame. I covered Gulick's life and career in a podcast HERE, but wanted to provide a visual text outlining his life and literary work.

Gulick was born in 1916 in Kansas City, Missouri. As a child, Gulick was an avid reader with weekly trips to the library. By the age of five he was reading Zane Grey and pulp western magazines. In high school he wrote a story modernizing Julius Caesar with a gritty underworld of Chicago gangsters. He graduated high school in 1934, a time when America had been thrust into the Great Depression. Gulick delivered newspapers, did collections on delinquent utility bills, and worked at a drug store to help the family make ends meet. 

Gulick enrolled at the University of Oklahoma, played baseball, and as a sophomore he entered a writing competition and saw his poem win top prize. During college, Gulick worked as a power line installer and also took a job selling appliances for Montgomery Ward. Both of these jobs expanded Gulick's world and allowed him to see a good portion of the Midwest. Hoping to achieve a career in writing, Gulick entered a Professional Writing School in 1940 and he sold his first story for $10 to a law officer magazine titled The Peace Officer. He then reached out to Popular Publications in New York about a western story he wrote. They published the short, “The Kid That Rode with Death”, in New Western Magazine and paid him $30. At this point Gulick considered himself to be a full-fledged professional writer. 

Gulick moved to Brownwood, Texas to be a caretaker for a couple's cabin on Lake Brownwood. It was here that he had the opportunity for solitude, a time he used to polish up on his writing and to get completely devoted to his style. He wanted to write for the slick magazines. He later spent a lot of time with pulp writer Foster Harris. It was Harris that encouraged Gulick to use his experiences installing power lines to write stories about hardened blue-collar working men. Harris explained that he used his own work experience in the oil fields to pen stories in Argosy, Blue Book, and Adventure. Gulick took the advice to heart and wrote a story titled “You Gotta Be Hard” about a lineman who saves a fellow worker from being electrocuted. He sold it to Adventure for $75 and it was published in their August 1942 issue. These stories are what Gulick refers to as his "high-line stories" about the dangerous industry and hardened men that worked on the power lines. That same year he had his story “The Saga of Mike Shannon” published in Liberty Magazine. The publisher paid him $350 for the story, which was his biggest payout to date. 

Gulick was classified as 4-F during World War 2 due to his bout with Polio years before the war started. In 1943, Gulick moved to New York City so he could be closer to the editors and publishers he was dealing with. By this point Gulick had sold stories to Big-Book Western, .44 Western, Ace-High Western, Texas Rangers, 10 Story Western, Liberty, and Adventure.  

Gulick became acquainted with Rogers Terrill who was working as an editor for Henry and Harry Steeger, the owners of Popular Publications. At the height of the pulp boom the Steegers had 33 magazines circulating. Each magazine sold on average 200,000 newsstand copies for a dime each, so the difference between showing a profit and incurring a loss was small. According to Gulick's autobiography, the Steegers were earning about $300 net profit per month on each magazine. Their top western writer was Walt Coburn. He had a story in just about every western magazine - either a 25,000 word novel, a 12,000 word novelette, or a 5,000 word short story. 

Rogers Terrill once sent Gulick a letter stating that his stories were good and that they would continue fetching on average of $280. He explained they were competent but not terribly original. He encouraged Gulick to stop writing run of the mill pot-boilers and to use his talent to write better work. Gulick went back to thinking of himself as more of a slick writer and found more stories being published in Liberty and Saturday Evening Post through the 1940s and 1950s. He was also published in Esquire, Blue Book, Collier's, and Nation's Business. By 1944, Gulick found that he had enough of New York and had met and introduced himself to enough publishers and editors. He first moved to Oklahoma before relocating to Tacoma, Washington. From there he continued to sell to Liberty magazine making $750 per story. The rejects from Liberty funneled down to the pulp magazines at less money. 

In 1946, Gulick discovered something really interesting about a Lone Ranger comic strip that was running in Seattle's Post-Intelligencer paper. The Lone Ranger story was plagiarized from a Gulick short published in 10 Story Western Magazine. He cut out the strips each day until he had the whole story and then mailed it to Popular Publications who agreed that it was plagiarism. Eventually, the Lone Ranger's legal firm settled with Gulick paying $250 both to him and Popular Publications. In a funny send off to the settlement, Gulick volunteered to write Lone Ranger stories but his request was ignored. 

Gulick met his wife while working as a house manager for a Tacoma Theater Company and the two moved to New York. After meeting with the editor of Saturday Evening Post, Erd Brandt, Gulick was pitched the idea of writing his first serial. Gulick knew that was huge money as Ernest Haycox and Luke Short had both earned upwards to $50,000 for a serial. Brandt wanted a historical Pacific Northwest setting for the serial. In his research, Gulick became fascinated with the history of the emigrants into the Washington and Idaho Territories from the Oregon Trail Days. Gulick used the concept to write an 80,000 word novel titled Bend of the Snake. It was Gulick's first full-length novel, however when he pitched it to the Post as a serial they rejected it for being too long. He submitted the novel to Doubleday but it was rejected for a lack of violence. Houghton Mifflin published the book in 1950 and Gulick received a $5,000 movie option. Universal-International bought the film rights, changed the title to Bend of the River, and cast James Stewart in the lead role. 

Gulick settled into writing more full-length novels including A Drum Calls West and A Thousand for the Cariboo. Around this same time an anthology of Gulick's mountain man western short stories was collected into an omnibus paperback titled The Mountain Men. 

In 1953. Gulick joined the Western Writers of America, the brainchild of author Nelson Nye. In 1955 Gulick ran for President of the organization, a position he held in 1956 and 1957. 

Up until the late mid-1950s, Gulick's novels were being published as hardcovers. But, Popular Library offered Gulick the opportunity to write paperback originals. The author wrote Showdown in the Sun, a paperback purchased by Famous Artists, a Hollywood Film company that paid $13,500 for the book. Gulick also began selling rights to his short stories to television shows. In 1961, Gulick sold his story "Where the Wind Blows Free" to Saturday Evening Post for $2500. Gulick wrote novels for Doubleday including They Came to a Valley, which won the Cowboy Hall of Fame Western Heritage Award as Best Western Historical Novel of the Year and Hallelujah Trail, which the Mirisch Brothers bought film rights for $85,000. The movie was released in 1964 and starred Burt Lancaster, Donald Pleasance, and Brian Keith. 

Gulick also flourished in the non-fiction realm as well. He wrote the books Snake River Country and Chief Joseph Country as non-fiction historical accounts. Gulick also wrote a western for Doubleday titled Trails West about a gold mine in Hells Canyon and anti-Chinese riots in the 1880s. The book, which was published in 1979, did well but hinted to Gulick that the western book market had dwindled significantly. 

In 1988, Gulilck's western trilogy was caught up in a publishing feud between Doubleday and Gulick. The publisher wanted each book to be trimmed from 100,000 words to 85,000. The publisher also disagreed with Gulick's overall title for the trilogy as Northwest Destiny. Doubleday published each of the books in 1988 - the first in May titled Distant Trails, the second in June titled Gathering Storm, and the third in July titled Lost Wallowa. The publisher sold 5,000 copies of each book to libraries without any promotion and then let the books go out of print. Gulick was able to have the rights reverted back to him from Doubleday. With permission, Berkley published the books in paperback format.

Bill Gulick died at the age of 97 in 2013 in Walla Walla, Washington. In his autobiography, his final conclusion stated this:

"What the world of writing will be in time to come, I cannot predict, other than to say it will change, as it has in my lifetime. Despite the proliferation in the methods of communication that has taken place during the last sixty-four years, the nation as a whole is no more literate now than it was then, when almost everybody who had gone to school at all could read at the fourth-grade level, whereas now we have students in college who cannot do as well. Back in the 1950s, when I complained to Carl Brandt, Sr. about the way the TV monster that had invaded our living rooms was threatening to replace my beloved Saturday Evening Post, he said, 'Don’t worry about it, Bill. What you should understand is that the American public has a great capacity for accepting a new medium of entertainment without forsaking the old.' In any event, it is time for a new generation of writers to replace mine. All I can say is, 'I wish you well'."

Gulick's last published short story was in 1982 and his last book was published in 2008.

You can obtain many of Bill Gulick's vintage books HERE.

Tarzan #07 - Tarzan the Untamed

Edgar Rice Burroughs wrote two Tarzan serials that were published in 1919 and 1920. The first was titled “Tarzan the Untamed “ (aka “Tarzan and the Huns”) and was published in Redbook from March to August 1919. The second was “Tarzan and the Valley of Luna”, published in All-Story Weekly from March to April 1920. The two stories were combined to make one complete novel, Tarzan the Untamed, in 1920 by A.C. McClurg (illustrations by J. Allen St. John). I chose to read the novel version, often presented as the seventh in the Tarzan series (after the short-story collection Jungle Tales of Tarzan).

German troops from the Great Lakes region of Africa (Tanganyika) descend on Tarzan's plantation in British East Africa, spurred by the turbulence of World War I. The titular hero is away at the time, but returns to find charred bodies and the Waziri warrior Wasimbu crucified on the wall. Among the burned corpses is what Tarzan presumes is his beloved wife Jane. Tarzan, enraged by the invasion and the murder of his wife, reverts back to his savage feral state.

In a unique marriage of modern warfare and jungle barbarism, Tarzan annihilates the German troops, first by shaking one to death and then later sniping them off with a carbine rifle. After meeting with British intelligence, Tarzan devises a plan to eliminate German troops from the trenches – with a lion, or what ERB and the apes refer to as “Numa”. The attack and intrigue leads Tarzan to extract revenge on two German brothers, one of which had a hand in Jane's presumed death. Additionally, a pivotal part of the through story is Tarzan's capture and re-capture of a German spy, a woman named Bertha Kircher.

In the second half of the novel, the “Tarzan and the Valley of Luna” serial, the book completely shifts gears into an African wilderness and survival formula as Tarzan and Bertha run into a downed British pilot named Harold Percy Smith-Oldwick. Harold gains a fondness for Bertha despite representing separate warring factions. The most interesting aspect to this portion of the novel is the closing chapters, a wild chain of events that reaches its pinnacle in a city of insane, and very scary, villagers. 

Tarzan the Untamed, while enjoyable and compelling, suffers from an identity crisis created by the publisher. The first half sets the reader on very different path involving this feral Tarzan, a savage swing that briefly recalls the intensity of Tarzan of the Apes a midst rapid-fire mechanization. His unbridled fury sets in motion a chain of violent sequences that are just ripe with emotion and anguish. But, the second half is an endless recycle of story ideas that I disliked in Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar. Burroughs consistently rehashes the “rescue and release” formula with Tarzan thrust into chasing Bertha, freeing her from some nefarious predicament (cannibals, soldiers, crazy villagers, apes, lions) only to recycle the concept again in just a few pages. Smith-Oldwick is an admirable, if not lovable, addition to the story but fails to achieve much purpose other than fodder for abuse. 

I'm looking forward to the next Tarzan installment, Tarzan the Terrible, and what appears to be the first in a series of unpredictable adventures in lost civilizations. I think this change of pace may increase my enjoyment of this classic character. I'm not giving up on Tarzan. 

Heads-You Die

Not much is known about pulp writer Ed Barcelo. He authored short stories in pulps like All-Story Detective, Black Mask, and Pocket Detective Magazine from the 1940s through the 1950s. My guess is that he lived in Cleveland, Ohio based on sensational “tabloid” articles he wrote for Exposed like “Cleveland's Shocking Sin Dens for Teenagers” and “Exposing Cleveland's Sin Circus”. My first experience with Barcelo was his story “Heads-You Die” featured in the April 1949 issue of All-Story Detective.

Ziggy is an ex-con fresh out of prison. After a row with his wife Mabel, Ziggy goes for a long walk in the crisp cold weather. Along a rural highway he's stopped by the piercing headlights of a lone car. The suspicious driver makes a strange proposition – he offers Ziggy ten-dollars to bury a soggy bloody sack that he claims is his dead dog. The driver's excuse is that he was hunting, accidentally shot his own dog, and now doesn't have the heart to dig a grave. Sheepishly, Ziggy takes the shovel and bag as the man drives away. Soon, a husky police officer comes by and together, with Ziggy, they open the contents of the bag and discover a headless hacked up corpse. Ziggy does the right thing by clonking the officer and making a run for it.

There's nothing remarkable about Barcelo's story. It is the standard man-on-the-run narrative that has been told countless times. However, there's a frantic pace as Ziggy's original ten-dollars drivels way while hopping from dive to dive hoping to elude the police. It's a type of page countdown as the currently crumbles away. As one might expect, Ziggy becomes his own advocate and hunts down clues to the whereabouts of this mysterious driver. The steady pace, likable character, and short page count provides just enough reason to enjoy this average pulp story. 

Solomon Kane - Castle of the Devil

In the 1968 hardcover Red Shadows (red binding), a fragmented six-page story appeared titled “The Castle of the Devil” by Robert E. Howard. The unfinished story included Howard's stalwart Puritan hero Solomon Kane. The story would circulate in a reissue of the same book in 1971 and 1978, as well as the books Solomon Kane (Centaur 1971), Solomon Kane (Haddock 1972), and the reprints of that same work in 1974 and 1976. It wasn't until Bantam's 1978 paperback Solomon Kane: Skulls in the Stars that readers and fans would find the story completed. The published requested a young British author named Ramsey Campbell to complete Howard's vision. Campbell, at the time a relatively unknown writer, added and edited an additional 12 pages to the story.

In the opening pages a man on horseback spots a “lean somber man clad in plain dark garments, he features a dark pallor.” The man, John Silent, introduces himself and is met with a greeting from Solomon Kane. He tells Silent, “I am a wanderer on the face of the Earth and have no destination.” Silent is shocked to find a Puritan in this savage desolate countryside. He invites Kane to travel with him to Genoa to board a ship for sea. Kane explains he has sailed and found little to his liking on the ocean. 

As the two travel together Silent learns that Kane recently saved a young man from hanging. The man was sentenced to the gallows by Baron Von Staler, who lives in a castle that both Silent and Kane can see through the trees. Upon insistence from Kane, the two travel to the “Castle of the Devil” to learn more about the Baron's presence in this vast forested region.

At the castle, Silent and Kane are introduced to the Baron and his one servant, a hardheaded man named Kurt. In conversation, Kane learns that a Baroness lives in the castle, but keeps to her room and never leaves. Later that night, Kane goes exploring to learn of the Baroness and if she is being kept imprisoned in the castle against her will. What he finds is a shock that involves a fight with Von Staler and the return of the man that Kane saved. 

“The Castle of the Devil” was a unique Solomon Kane story and one that still, after Campbell's contribution, still seems open-ended and incomplete. I was anticipating a larger payoff to the story's finale but was met with a bit of a disappointing end. However, I did enjoy this lackadaisical aura from Kane that I haven't experienced in Howard's presentation of the swashbuckler. Like the Biblical King Solomon, evident in Ecclesiastes, Kane comes across as despondent, lofty-minded, and often perplexed at the meaning of life. When asked about his mission, Kane responds, “I have but one mission, wherever Providence may choose to take me.” The character has always been motivated by purity and an unmatched stamina to defeat evil. But, in this story he seems more intimate and self-reflective, visually as the “thinker upon the rock” as he's seen in the opening page. It reminded me of King Solomon's wisdom literature of “Fear God and keep his commandments, for that is the duty of all of mankind.” 

“The Castle of the Devil” was adapted into comic form in the 19th issue of The Savage Sword of Conan (1977 Marvel), and Solomon Kane Vol. 1: The Castle of the Devil (2009 Dark Horse).