A few other surprises were in store. I thought they were written by a contemporary author. Like Louis L'Amour. But then I discovered Zane had died in 1939. And he was a dentist. He even looked a little like Harrison Ford to me, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
I could get over the fact that he'd died long before I was born. I could get over the fact that he was a dentist, and probably didn't wear a cowboy hat to work.
But a man?
I wanted those westerns to have been written by a woman. A woman who liked the old west and enjoyed writing.
But then I read his biography and discovered that his wife had a great deal to do with his stories. In fact, once when she was out of the country, he'd sent in a manuscript, and they'd sent it back, dissatisfied.
I was vindicated.
And the icing on the cake for me was that his first name was Pearl.