From Steve Weddle, the author who the New York Times calls “downright dazzling,” comes the story of a prodigal son returning home to hard times and harder choices during the Great Depression. Life has never been easy for Cottonmouth Tomlin. Raised by an uncle in a hardscrabble Arkansas town, Cottonmouth couldn’t leave fast enough. As a young man, he set out to seek his fortune but was soon caught up in a life of low-level misdeeds, taking him from New Orleans all the way to Honduras. Now he’s back in Columbia County, mourning his uncle and worrying on what to do with the broken-down outlaw camp that represents the sum of his family legacy. And legacy is no small matter in a county like his. The townsfolk remember Cottonmouth and his kin, just like they remember everyone who ever put down roots in the area. Folks do like the way the outlaw camp helps out the local so long as criminals undertake their troublemaking across county lines, they’re more than welcome to stay and spend some of that money in county establishments. But when Cottonmouth gets embroiled in some ill-conceived ransom plans with a few of those visiting scofflaws, he pushes the boundaries of the community’s forgiving nature. Set against the unyielding backdrop of the Great Depression and with an unforgettable cast of ornery characters, The County Line is a lyrical and loving celebration of community and opportunity in 1933 America.
Steve Weddle’s THE LAST OUTLAW CAMP, pitched as DEADWOOD meets BOARDWALK EMPIRE, the story of a small town boy who returns home and becomes embroiled in some ill-conceived ransom plans with local scofflaws and ornery characters, set against the unyielding backdrop of the Great Depression, to Alison Dasho at Lake Union Publishing, for publication in 2024, by Josh Getzler at HG Literary (world).
Weddle's Country Hardball (Tyrus, 2013) was called "downright dazzling" by the New York Times. The French translation, Le Bon Fils, will be published in 2016 by Gallmeister.
His most recent short story, "South of Bradley," appears in Playboy magazine.
The writing of this book was so hard to read. It didn't flow very well and I felt like it was written very oddly. I didn't really get into the story until the last 20 pages or so.
The novel was just okay. I feel like Weddle's narrative voice is a bit trite. I didn't find myself very invested in the characters - the narrator especially. I think there's a seed of a great novel here, but it hasn't quite flourished yet.
Cottonmouth Tomlin—a character you won’t forget for a long, long time—is disoriented and confused. He’s been away from Arkansas for three years and now there are cars where there used to be horses. Now you can’t stand in the middle of the street without looking like a “goddamn moron.” It feels good to be home, he tells himself, but so much is different. The biggest change is that his uncle recently died and left him with a camp, “a scattering of cabins and an impassable road.” The camp has a reputation as a hideout for outlaws. It’s 1933. Times are tough. The air is filled with desperation.
Cottonmouth’s town is located in southwest Arkansas, just over the Louisiana border. Cottonmouth has come from Honduras, where he was working for Sam Zemurray—the Banana Man. Cottonmouth has witnessed luxury. He’s been to Zemurray’s “New Orleans castle” where he’s seen rooms full of furniture and rugs and tapestries. “Not to keep the cold out either,” says Cottonmouth to fellow poker players in the back of Moon’s Grocery. “Just tapestries.”
The first reference to a Hooverville comes in chapter two as we meet three men in a sedan coming into Arkansas from Oklahoma. A guy named Beans is driving. With him is Everett Logan and Jimmy the Hook. Through crackling-sharp dialogue, we learn that Jimmy’s got bandages on his arm where a bullet has gone through. There was some problem back in Oklahoma. Despite the issues, the trio are looking ahead. They have plans for another job. Specifically, to knock over a bank. Between them, they have four pistols and seven bullets.
Just when you think The County Line might be all dudes and guns and hard living, we meet a couple of sisters. Henrietta and Abigail. We meet them, however, through the eyes of Sheriff Monroe McCollum. The sheriff is under their thumb. Henrietta wants to make sure the sheriff welcomes Cottonmouth back to town “his family being members of the community for so long … and there being the matter of the money his uncle owed us.”
Seventeen pages, folks. We’ve covered seventeen pages of this rich, rugged, well-populated novel of struggling, wanting, and outsmarting and of life between Hoover and Roosevelt, between nowhere and somewhere, in a land where you looked the other way because everyone knew about the outlaw camps on the other side of the county line where unsavory things took place but now we’re moving to a time, just maybe, where there will be more law. And maybe more order. Because even within disorder and criminal mayhem, there are those who are profiting and, well, would like to keep the status quo very status and very quo. (See above. Abigail. And Henrietta: “The woman’s eyes, sharp, clear. Black glass marble on a white field, no blood thread on the edges.”)
In fact, those “businesses” like the one Cottonmouth’s uncle built up, the outlaw camp, are good for commerce. Says Henrietta: “After all, that’s what is going to save this country from the likes of Roosevelts and the Carnegies and the other Yankees trying to take us over again. Local. Community. And, like I said, if outsiders want to come for a quiet, peaceful stay, whether it’s playing cards at your camp or coming into town and visiting the Culver for drinks and dancing, well, we’ll be glad to take their money, won’t we? They can leave their money and move along.”
Did someone say quiet? Peaceful?
There is still a fight on to defend the old ways, the Civil War Ways. There is still a struggle against the Yankees and the “encroachers.”
Does Cottonmouth want to be part of the old mentality? Does he want to be a clerk or bellhop for the outlaw camp, or does he want something more? Should he take off—again? Or should Cottonmouth’s camp cater to an even more notorious criminals, take a cut from better operators? Maybe there an even better way for a man to make a living and, by the way, how does one make choices with Lorena Whaley, the best car mechanic in town, offering her opinions about work and stability? Lorena was the last person Cottonmouth saw before he slipped away to New Orleans and Honduras and she doesn’t want him all “whompy-jawed” and disrupting everything.
The County Line is rich storytelling. It’s early in 2024, but The County Line will be one of my favorite reads this year. The story is delivered in a coarse, rough-grained style that befits the mood. Weddle mimics nobody. He takes us to a fully-realized place and time. The dialogue sparkles. It’s movie-ready. When Lorena walks into the story, we got ourselves a whole new ballgame, no tropes allowed. Book clubs will need three or four meetings to chew through everything here.
Tension mounts. Violence rears its head. Cottonmouth can’t stop thinking about the Banana Man, about building an empire. How did Zemurray get there? Should Cottonmouth hitch his wagon to someone else’s vision or fight for himself?
Ownership—of land, of debts, or principles, of plans—emerges as a driving force. Old ways. New ways. Are today’s fights about the last eight decades or the ones ahead? Now, skip ahead about ninety years. What’s changed?
My first ever DNF. This book was clearly not written for me and that’s okay. I think there was some makings of a good story, but it just never quite got there.
"Don’t really matter what’s wrong; what matters is the getting on with it. Hell, everybody’s got something.”
If I would have gone by the Goodreads reviews of this novel (which I don't do), I would have missed out on a great story, set in Depression Era Columbia County, Arkansas, Cottonmouth Tomlin and his band of fumbling scofflaws teach us a thing or two about small town values and what community should be. Great characters, specially the Rudd sisters, Henrietta Rudd scared the crap out of me! If you like a good heist/Depression Era/thriller country kind of story, this one is worth the try.
I love novels like The County Line. The hard-boiled but often hapless characters set to the backdrop of the Great Depression drew me in early. The book shines as a period piece, capturing the automobiles, homemade liquor and the political climate of the day. The overall tension of the times is captured well through the strength of Weddle’s writing. The dialogue, especially that of Everett, Jimmy, and Beans shines.
Cottonmouth is a multi-faceted protagonist as he attempts to lay roots after years of wandering and unsuccessful self-seeking. His decisions strain relationships and he is caught in dangerous situations – this is one aspect of the novel that kept me reading. The character of Lorena is a strong woman who is a grounding force for Cottonmouth. Their relationship has all the complexities of a male/female friendship searching for the boundaries of their relationship.
I plowed through The County Line immersed in the story eager to find out what happens next.
My The County Line Playlist centered around the music of the time: Jelly Roll Morton – Doctor Jazz Duke Ellington – Blues in Orbit Jack Hylton and His Orchestra – Vol 2
You would think coming back home from Honduras after doing some questionable work for some questionable men would be safer for Cottonmouth Tomlin. A place to gather his wits and spirits in Arkansas during the summer of 1933. But in Columbia County, he would find very little respite. After three years, he’s come back home to take over his recently passed Uncle Beurie’s outlaw camp. Three years gone and the town has changed as much as Cottonmouth. Everett Logan and his hapless gang require the camp to lick their self-inflicted wounds. The Rudd Sisters would like to add another piece of the county to their dominion. If these threats aren’t enough, Cottonmouth invites more trouble from outside the county line. He’s so busy trying to find a reason to leave that he keeps the best person in his mangy life at a distance. The town mechanic Lorena Whaley is an old flame who offers him a reason to stay. A conflicted soul our Cottonmouth Tomlin is. One foot across the count line while dragging the other one closer and closer. It’s been said all he is good at is leaving. Will he change his vagabond ways? Cut bait and run down to New Orleans? You have to buy the book to find out.
I loved this trip into Depression-era Arkansas with Cottonmouth and all the rough and feckless characters of Columbia County. My gut says you will too.
Living around 100 years later, it’s easy to forget how much the Great Depression threatened to rip the social fabric of democratic America apart. Most know of the bank runs. Threats of social anarchy rippled across the country, especially in rural regions, as depicted in this book. Self-government was quickly veering towards becoming a plutocracy, the rule of money and power. Americans who made their way of life on Main Street lived in fear of not enough money. It thus became easier to hide behind strongmen who self-servingly controlled smaller fiefdoms. People were rightfully scared, and this fear fostered social distrust. In this book, Steve Weddle brings these trends to life in a dramatic tale of lawlessness, love, redemption, and the eventual return of social good vibes.
A small county in 1930s Arkansas was veering into lawlessness. Even those with nobler aspirations had to do what they could to survive and took things into their own hands. In this setting, Cottonworth Tomlin, whose parents left him, returned from Honduras to put together his late uncle’s affairs. He was drawn into a crime ring where the only way to gather cash was to kidnap and ransom. Instead of carrying on his uncle’s legacy, he became entwined in a county’s affairs where social distrust was becoming the norm.
The powers-that-be in this county were trying to pull the strings selfishly so that they could escape whatever chaos might come. FDR’s Washington was far away and distrusted. In a life where everyone left him, Cottonworth was trying to establish something lasting, but his life’s prior chaos only seemed to follow him. However, he found traces of love in this community. Even the “bad guys” had redemptive qualities, if only they could escape a troublesome system. This tale is not one of strict moralism but rather of redemption – how given better circumstances, the social mores can improve. As Cottonworth’s eyes open to reality, his clairvoyance helps him better others’ lives.
This book has a lot of darkness to it. Social chaos is not exactly an uplifting topic. But to those that persist, better things come near the end. Like much of life, this county’s people suffered, but they learned to recapture a better life, thanks to one man’s labor. Romance even plays a small but significant role! This book reminded me that even seeming anarchy can lead to better outcomes thanks to the wise steps of individuals.
I loved this book. Weddle’s prose is lyrically beautiful as he invokes a bygone era. Cottonmouth Tomlin is a great character, and through his eyes we see his hometown’s flaws and challenges to its people. The story is a rip-roaring delight, too. I read a free, advanced copy of this book. I highly recommend it for fans of mysteries, crime, historicals, or just flat great storytelling.
I had reservations about reading this book. Not my usual genre. Once I started I couldn't stop. Since it's winter this can't be classified as a beach read so this is a quasi-snow read when you are stuck in the house. I continued reading and realized this is an excellent read. Definitely recommend.
Not good…. I got it as a first of the month free read from Amazon. People said to stick with it because the ending was worth it. I’m not sure it was worth it 😒
DNF. About 20% in and just could not get into the characters or the subject matter. I usually try to stick with a book to the end hoping it will get better. Some do & some don’t. Didn’t want to gamble my time on this one.
This was an Amazon first reads that ended up in my kindle. I started reading it and couldn’t put it down. Great story and well written especially when your writing in hillbilly. I highly recommend this book!
I really enjoyed this book. It's a deep dive into a world that feels both real and fantastical, with characters who you start to care about, despite their, um, professions.
I don't have a whole lot to say about this book I did not really like it or hate it. It was boring and I was not invested in the story or the characters. I feel it took me too long to read as short as it was but overall it was okay.
DNF at 20%. This read like a 1930s B movie. If you are into old-time gangsters, bank robberies, backroom deals, and card playing, this is for you. Sadly, it wasn't for me. I was trying to push through, but I wasn't invested in any of the characters and found the dialogue annoying.
I do not believe that anybody I know would be interested in wasting as much time with this pointless narration as I did. I threw in the towel a third of the way through, which I rarely do.
3⭐️ i wanted to enjoy this so badly, but it was just a tad too dry and uninteresting for me. i found myself not caring about the characters or what happened to them, but i also didn’t hate it either? bonus points for all the north louisiana references for sure :)
A different time and place - Prohibition and Depression-era Arkansas - with a bunch of hardscrabble outlaws trying to make a living. Altho' they are on the wrong side of the law, you do sympathize.
Decent historical fiction from depression era south.
A decent read.........Readers seeking a historical novel and a crime novel all-in-one may well find “The County Line” to be a worthwhile read.
The place is rural Arkansas. The time is 1933 or thereabouts, right in the middle of the Great Depression. Roosevelt is in the White House, putting liquor back into bars and restaurants and confiscating everyone’s gold. Cottonmouth Tomlin Has come home to Columbia County. He’d run away from trouble more than a few years ago—a killing that hadn’t been his fault—and kept running every time new trouble arose, first to New Orleans and then Honduras where he did some distasteful things for “Banana Man” Sam Zemurray.
Now he’s mourning the death of his uncle and living on a bayou, running the isolated camp that is his inheritance. It’s a place criminals use to hide out after their last job or to plan their next. Cottonmouth has big plans for the camp but needs an outside investor to fund them. Those plans and that investor--not to mention some of the camp's guests--may just draw attention to the nearby town run by two ruthless, elderly sisters They’re due a piece of just about every enterprise in the county—some criminal, some not—and want things kept as quiet as the grave Cottonmouth might end up in if he causes a ruckus. Unfortunately, Cottonmouth and his associates are pretty much all about ruckus.
The first third of the novel is very strong. The middle section, however, tended to meander and lack focus. But the final third, which contains some action and a good deal of suspense, is as strong and engaging as the first.
This book takes place in the Depression era and is reminiscent of an old Elmore Leonard crime novel in that it features a cast of two-bit thugs trying to become four-bit thugs. Like Leonard's books, the dialogue is good but unlike Leonard's books, some of the conversation is interrupted with a distracting flow of he-said, she-said segments. It would have been better without the extra layer of narration. The first part of the book drags, and the story rambles in a way that makes the reader wonder where this story could possibly go. But somewhere around the last third, the pieces begin to come together. By that point, the reader will realize that they have been treated to an intriguing character arc in the form of main thug Cottonmouth, who has grown and changed in interesting ways. Cottonmouth returns home to Arkansas from Honduras after inheriting a remote camp that was run by his late uncle and is frequented by outlaws who break even more laws than himself. Cottonmouth learns that the camp is in the red, and much of it has been signed away to the unscrupulous Rudd sisters who run the county and have the sheriff wrapped around their fingers. Will Cottonmouth take all of this lying down? Will he simply run away again when the going gets tough? His girlfriend, who is the local auto mechanic, hopes to have something to say about that. Cottonmouth is a bad guy, and the story is full of them, but the reader may find themselves rooting for him anyway.