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Falling from Horses Paperback – May 5, 2015
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“I read Falling from Horses in two gulps . . . I could not have loved it more.” — Karen Joy Fowler, author of The Jane Austen Bookclub and We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves “Clear-eyed, breathtaking . . . A moving story filled with heart and insight.” — Gail Tsukiyama, author of The Samurai’s Garden “A hypnotic read.” — Kirkus Reviews
In 1938, nineteen-year-old ranch hand Bud Frazer sets out for Hollywood, his sights set on becoming a stunt rider in the movies—and rubbing shoulders with the great screen cowboys of his youth. On the long bus ride south from Echol Creek, Bud meets a young woman who also harbors dreams of making it in the movies, not as a starlet but as a writer. Lily Shaw is bold and outspoken, more confident than her small frame and bookish looks seem to allow. The two strike up an unlikely kinship that will carry them through their tumultuous days in Hollywood. Through the wide eyes and lofty dreams of two people trying to make their mark on the world, Molly Gloss weaves a remarkable tale of humans and horses, hope and heartbreak, told by one of the most winning narrators ever to walk off the page.
- Print length336 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherMariner Books
- Publication dateMay 5, 2015
- Dimensions5.64 x 0.84 x 8.46 inches
- ISBN-100544484037
- ISBN-13978-0544484030
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“The story of a boy growing up into a man by way of ambition, adventure, catastrophe, love, and grief. A beautiful, moving novel, cut from the American heartwood.”— Ursula K. Le Guin, author of Lavinia and The Unreal and the Real: Selected Short Stories
“Molly Gloss is always exploring that dangerous place where reality and imagination combine to form the American West, and never more than in this book, plunging as it does into the heart of the dream machine. She has a tremendous gift for bringing a situation alive, so be ready: you’re about to live these lives. It’s a great experience.” — Kim Stanley Robinson, author of Shaman and 2312
“Falling from Horses is a beautifully crafted story of the friendship that develops between two young people—a ranch hand and an aspiring screenwriter—as they try to make it in the movies in 1930s Hollywood. Molly Gloss makes the little seen life of a movie stuntman and a back lot script girl come alive in this entertaining and often touching tale of a naive young man and woman who are trying to live their dreams.” — Phillip Margolin, New York Times best-selling author of Worthy Brown's Daughter “Falling From Horses is a clear-eyed, breathtaking look at a small corner of life unknown to most: cowboy stunt riders in 1930s Hollywood. Gloss adeptly brings to life characters in search of the American Dream, while illuminating the “myth of the cowboy West” and the harsh realities that come along with it. A moving story filled with heart and insight by an author whose love of the American landscape rings loudly through each page.” — Gail Tsukiyama, author of A Hundred Flowers and The Samurai’s Garden
“The acute sense of time and place, coupled with a cast of characters drawn with unsentimental but abiding affection, makes for a hypnotic read.” — KirkusReviews
About the Author
MOLLY GLOSS is the best-selling author The Hearts of Horses, The Jump-Off Creek, winner of both the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Award and the Oregon Book Award, The Dazzle of Day, winner of the PEN Center West Fiction Prize, and Wild Life, winner of the James Tiptree Jr. Award.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
When I was nineteen years old, I took off from home, went to Hollywood, and worked in the movies for a year or so. This was back before the war, 1938, 1939. Jobs were still hard to come by in those days, but they were making cheap cowboy pictures as fast as they could churn them out, and I met a bronc rider at the Burns Roundup who told me you could get work down there if you could fall off a horse without breaking any bones. Or, if you broke one, at least not cry about it. He’d been working in the movies himself, but he went back to rodeo because bronc riding was duck soup compared to stunt riding, he claimed, and he wasn’t looking to get killed or crippled.
Well, I was foolheaded in those days, looking for ways to get myself into trouble—carrying too much sail, as we used to say—and all I’d been doing for the past year and a half was picking up ranch work when I could and riding rodeo without ever making much money at it. I figured I might as well get paid for what I was good at, which was bailing off.
When I was a kid I’d had the idea that the cowboys made those two-gun westerns more or less the way we played games, one of us saying, “Okay, you get shot this time.” I had some notion that they’d put me on a silver-trimmed saddle and a flashy pinto and I’d be riding hell-for-leather alongside Ken Maynard or some other cowboy star.
I was still only a half-baked kid, so I guess you could say I didn’t know any better, but when I got down to Hollywood I ran into plenty of men thirty and forty years old who’d come into town with that same idea, fellows hanging around Gower Gulch in their pawnshop cowboy clothes looking to get hired to be the next Tim McCoy. Well, I wound up in a picture with Tim McCoy. I rode in a Ken Maynard movie, met Harry Carey, Hoot Gibson, all those actors, which doesn’t mean much anymore—kids these days wouldn’t know who the heck I was talking about. But back then every kid was cowboy-proud, cowboy-crazy, even the ones like me who’d grown up riding horses and working cattle and should have known better.
I was late coming to understand that the cowboy pictures didn’t show much about real ranching. You never saw a movie cowboy hauling salt up to the high pastures or building fence around a haystack or helping a heifer figure out what to do with her first calf. Those movies were full of bank robberies and stage holdups, feuds, galloping posses, murderous Indians, and claim jumpers—nothing I ever saw growing up. But in the movies it all made sense. A bad guy was to blame for whatever had gone wrong, and at the end everything turned out right. If death came for anybody in the picture, it was always clean, unlingering, unsuffering. If somebody you cared about was dying, they had strength and breath for last words, and that seemed to make it almost okay. I don’t remember actually thinking my life in Hollywood would be like the movies, but some of that must have come into my mind.
The plain truth is, some of those cowboy stars I admired turned out to be sons of bitches, or fakes who couldn’t ride worth applesauce, and what I did for the movies was mostly act like I was shot and fall off horses that were a long way from flashy. There were more than a few days I wondered if it was worth it. I saw men get busted up, I saw horses killed, and I discovered there wasn’t a bit of glory in making those damn movies.
All that picture business was finished for me a long time ago. For that matter, you could say Hollywood is finished with the cowboy. I used to have to cross the street to keep away from whatever hay-burner was playing in town, used to turn off the television to keep from seeing all those horse operas every night of the week—I just knew too much about how they got made. But now I can’t recall the last time I saw a horse on the screen. The movie cowboy has gone downtown and into outer space: now it’s all squealing tires and things blowing up, every picture trying to make a bigger fireball than the last one.
I might be tempted to think the whole country is done with cowboys, except every so often I open up the newspaper to see some Yale or Harvard lawyer who’s gone into politics, posing in his new white Stetson and ironed Levis, sitting on a tall horse and squinting into the camera like he’s spent his whole life in the West Texas sun, and I think, Well, there it is again.
I will say right here that this isn’t the whole story of my life; somebody else will have to take that up after I’m dead. The time I studied with Benton, the work I did for the Autry Center, the frescoes in Santa Fe and Carson City and the Truman Library, the book art for Jack Schaefer—none of it would have happened if I hadn’t grown up the way I did and spent that year riding horses in the movies. When I was starting out as an artist, I thought I would paint what I knew of life in the rural West, a life where people did real work, significant work, and the risk and the suffering were real. But I floundered for a long time, feeling I didn’t have the language to say anything new. It was Lily Shaw, arguing with me in letters that went back and forth between us for thirty years, who helped me see where my Hollywood year fit into things, the intersection where the West I knew growing up cuts across our great mythmaking machine, which is Hollywood. And the way those two things have always bent and shaped each other, have always been so tightly bound together they can’t be untangled. I grew up with Tom Mix as the model for how to be a cowboy, so I know I was tangled in it myself.
What I want to write about is what I saw and did down there in Hollywood and what it meant—what it means—in my life and work.
I am writing this for Lily. And also for my sister, and in some way for my parents, which I guess will become clear elsewhere in these pages.
Product details
- Publisher : Mariner Books; Reprint edition (May 5, 2015)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 336 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0544484037
- ISBN-13 : 978-0544484030
- Item Weight : 9.6 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.64 x 0.84 x 8.46 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #769,095 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #6,711 in Coming of Age Fiction (Books)
- #9,656 in Westerns (Books)
- #37,821 in American Literature (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
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About the author

The highlights of my writing life: In 1996 I received a Whiting Writers Award, which is sort of a MacArthur grant in a minor key. People told me the Whiting was a prestigious award but hardly anyone knows what the heck it is, so I wonder how it came to be prestigious?! Probably from the substantial chunk of change they drop on your head without warning. ("Substantial" of course being a relative term. It's not MacArthur substantial. But we paid off our house...) The Jump-Off Creek, about a woman homesteading in the Blue Mountains of Oregon in 1895, was winner of an Oregon Book Award and a Pacific Northwest Booksellers Award, and a finalist for the PEN/Faulkner Award. The Dazzle of Day, my only science fiction novel, received the PEN West Fiction Prize and was a New York Times Notable Book. Fairly unusual for a science fiction novel to win a major PEN prize, but the Notable Book thing, not so much--it was Notable only within the ghetto of science fiction. Wild Life, set in the woods and mountains of Washington State at the turn of the 20th century, won the James Tiptree Jr. Award for literary fantasy, although at the time I wrote it I didn't think I was writing anything fantastical. The Hearts of Horses, about a young woman breaking horses for some farmers and ranchers in Eastern Oregon in 1917, has (so far!) been the most popular of any of my works. Is it that attention-grabbing cover? or "horses" in the title?! Guess we'll test the second theory, as I've decided to call the new novel (launching Oct. 28, 2014) Falling From Horses. Set in 1938, it's the story of a young man working as a stunt rider in Hollywood, making cowboy movies. And if you've already read The Hearts of Horses you will know the significance of this factoid: He's Henry and Martha's son.
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In some ways Falling from Horses is a direct sequel to The Hearts of Horses, since it centers on the next generation of the Fraser family. But in many ways it is another sort of book altogether. I think I wrote on Facebook that I “loved” this book right off, which isn’t true. I liked it right away, but it was someplace after page 40 or so that I was completely in love. I cried on page 102 and at the ends of many chapters after that. It’s not a sad book, though it has sadness. And it’s not a book about cruelty or loss, though these are significant aspects of the novel. What It has left me with, and what remains in my mind after reading it, is an appreciation for the shape of entire lives. A satisfying book will choose the places to leave the reader in comfort—not a storybook “happy ending” but with a sense of purpose or insight or strength. Maybe because I am getting old myself, I appreciate thinking about the shape of a person’s lifetime. Gloss respects both the unavoidable sorrow none of us can escape in life and the ability of people to make something of themselves as a result of their experiences and the people they meet along the way.
A young man leaves home after the loss of his sister, seeking, like his mother before him, to find heroism and adventure. What he finds is a life quite different than he imagined and people who challenge and inspire him. It is a story of ordinary heroism, the kind that matters in our lives, the sort of people who save us, especially from ourselves.
The stunt riders and wranglers, and Lily, the screenwriter who most affects Bud, each emerge as fully rounded people. (I could read an entire novel about Lily, though most of her life is right here, told by Bud, who loved her like family, because that's what she was in his life.) There is tenderness and generosity. There is what feels like truth.
This was a book I talked to while I read it, and these are people I feel I know like family. I should quote a line here, but people familiar with the writing of this author know the beauty and depth of her prose like cold, clear water. Readers who don’t know the work of Molly Gloss will probably surprise themselves by crying somewhere along the way.
I read passages, which became entire chapters, aloud to my husband. Eventually I will read him the entire thing, as we did with Hearts of Horses. I think this might be my favorite by Gloss, and Gloss is among my favorite authors. She respects people and how people interact and love and care for one another. There is a paradox here: There is tragedy and cruelty in the novel, but the story itself is neither of those things, but another reality entirely, a world where I want to dwell. I feel like I understand people better after I have read one of Gloss's books. I feel like a better person. I see the world as a bigger and more meaningful place.
NOTE I pre-ordered a copy of the novel in April, but I also won an Advance Reader copy on Goodreads. The novel was released in hardcover, 28 October 2014
This is my first Molly Gloss book and will surely read more from her.
Thank you Molly!
I liked the characters, but I felt like the writing got tedious at times. This read more like a memoir than a novel. I was ready to stop reading about halfway, but then things started moving a little faster and then I was just determined to finish. There were parts that were interesting, but in general, this is not a book I would quickly recommend.








