A few days ago, I wrote about Chuck Wendig. I do feel rather stalkerish about him, because he’s such an unknown to me down here in the land of red dirt, pine trees, and big hair (closer to God and all). Now, I have to tell you about Tex Thompson’s books.
As a kid JohnWayne was a holy word to be whispered in awe and only in the correct setting, followed closely by Glen Ford and The Dallas Cowboys (Though to be fair, Cowboys was usually shouted along with bless Tom Landry and then Jimmy Jones. However, I’ve never heard much praying for Jerry Jones at my momma’s house.)
To love the twisted-alt-weird-fantastical-post-apocalyptic western that is One Night in Sixes, you don’t need any of that. You don’t have to love westerns. You don’t have to be from Texas. You don’t have to believe me about anything else. You don’t even need the love of story to get into this book. It will give it to you. I will not send you down the wrong rabbit hole.
This book is deep. Social injustice, slavery, love, and loyalty are layered in with a master’s hand.
If you’d follow Mookie into Hell. If you’d take the train with Harry. Then you need to follow Elim out into the night. You’ll be a believer.
TL;dr: OMG Read One Night in Sixes (and the sequel Medicine for the Dead) because it’s pure story joy.
Don’t skip reading this book because you think you don’t like westerns. That’d be a rook mistake.