Howard’s prose has the power to bring history to life – grim and vicious life, but life all the same; he had a poet’s eye for evoking sensations that surely must have existed, even if no mention is made of them in the historical narrative – from the color of the night sky over a sacked and burning citadel to the taste of blood and gunpowder to the bitter stink of death that hangs in the morning air. When woven into the skein of history, these dollops of imagination elevate the rote recitation of dates and deeds into a potent form of art.

Howard bolstered his imagination by reading, widely and voraciously – no mean feat in Depression-era rural Texas. In his ongoing correspondence with fellow Weird Tales author H. P. Lovecraft, Howard lamented the dearth of culture in West Texas, stating that “… it is almost impossible to obtain books on obscure and esoteric subjects anywhere in the state.” Despite the difficulties, Howard amassed a vast store of historical knowledge, both for the American Southwest and for lands far-flung. He counted Sir Walter Scott among his favorite authors, along with Talbot Mundy, Stanley Lane-Poole, and the much-esteemed Harold Lamb. And from every one, both fiction and nonfiction, he took away something with which to inform his own work.

Absent first-hand experiences garnered through travel, or the where-withal to perform one’s own research in situ, cannibalizing and absorbing the works of others is a time-honored tradition among writers. Every book, story, and article one reads has the potential to supply a phrase or fact, a description or a bit of color. Of course, we should not confuse this with plagiarism; a good author – and Howard was one of the best – takes only inspiration, recasting the actual words to suit his own voice, his own style. Gates of Empire, included in this volume, boasts a perfect example of this tradition.