>> Good morning everyone, how are you? I'm Roswell Encina, the Chief Communications Officer for the Library of Congress. And on behalf of the Librarian of Congress, Carla Hayden, and the remarkable staff of the Library of Congress, we welcome you to the 2019 Library of Congress National Book Festival. I know there are a lot of stages out there that you could start your day at, but we're very happy that you're here at the Genre of Fiction Stage. Now, the festival has grown so much in the nearly two decades its started in 2001, when it started with nearly tens of thousands of people on the National Mall, when it was launched by then-First Lady, Laura Bush, it has grown into what we've called our Little Beyonce of Book Festivals, with more than 200,000 people coming here to the national, to the Washington Convention Center. We thank you for your genuine love for reading. We know the feeling when you're completely overwhelmed by beautifully-written text, when you have to savor each word, or you have to read out loud each sentence. I know this happens to me all the time. So all day, we have more than 140 authors here at the National Book Festival. We're glad you are kicking it off here again at the Genre Fiction Stage, where we will be presenting more than a dozen authors until 8:00 tonight. All our award winners, and best-selling authors, including our first panel of authors. We appreciate all of you being here. To kick it off, we're going out west as we hear and honor four brilliant authors. We have Spur Award winner, and Billington Award Winner, Paul Andrew Hutton, who will be discussing his book, The Apache Wars, The Hunt for Geronimo, the Apache Kid, and The Captive Boy, who started The Longest War in American History. Spur Award winner, Craig Johnson, who will be discussing his book, Death of Winter. Spur Award winner, Anne Hillerman, who will be discussing her book, The Tale Teller, The Lee Pornichi [assumed spelling] and Manuel Lito [assumed spelling] novel, and Western Writers of America winner, Johnny D. Boggs, who will be talking about his book, The Kansas City Cowboys. Thank you again for being here. And welcome, again to Johnny D. Boggs, Anne Hillerman, Paul Andrew Hutton and Craig Johnson. ^M00:01:57 [ Applause ] ^M00:02:05 >> Thank you so much. We are delighted to be here, and we want to thank the Library of Congress, and we want to thank the National Book Festival for bringing us out from the provinces, all the way back here to the center of power [laughter], world power, I guess, and we're absolutely thrilled to be here. I'm going to moderate the panel, and I'll try to then leave about 10-15 minutes for questions at the end, if that works for everyone. I wanted to tell you a little bit about the organization we're all in, which is the Western Writers of America, which is now in its seventh decade. And is one of the earliest and most important writing organizations in America. Our President, Nancy Plain, is here, and right here in the very front row, stand up, wave--there she is. ^M00:03:00 [ Applause ] ^M00:03:04 >> And Nancy has copies of our magazine, The Roundup, which we are happy to give to you for free, at the end of the session, she said. She hauled all those over here [chuckles]. Western women are strong, to say the least. Our roots go back. Before I introduce the panel, let me tell you, give you a little talk about western writing. Our roots go back to of course Fenimore Cooper, who gave birth to the Western novel in 1823, with The Pioneers, writing of course about the Wild West of upstate New York. He followed that, with of course the immortal The Last of the Mohicans, three years later. And the western story was picked up, then, by almanac writers, dime novel writers, playwrights, doing plays like Neck of the Woods, and Lion of the West, about Davy Crockett. And the West became an integral part, especially with the election of Andrew Jackson as President, an integral part of American Life. And was seen as sort of a--not a replacement, but a follow-up to the founding fathers. And an idea that Americans could achieve anything through determination and hard work, and individualism. In 1893, Frederick Jackson Turner, a young professor at the University of Wisconsin, gave a paper in Chicago, at the American Historical Association Meeting. No one went, because everyone was in Chicago to see Buffalo Bill's Wild West show, which was playing across the street at the World's Fair. But Turner gave a little talk called The Frontier Thesis. And that actually founded my field, the academic field of Western History. Turner said that American exceptionalism, not that we were better than others, although he believed that, but that we were different from others, different especially from Europe, came from the frontier environment and the frontier experience. In 1902, that talented Harvard dude, Owen Wister, made the cowboy into the quintessential American hero. He had a little help from Buffalo Bill, from Teddy Roosevelt, who became the cowboy President, even though he was of course from New York and went to Harvard. And artists like Frederick Remington. And a year later, a year after Owen Wister's The Virginian, was published about a Wyoming cowboy in 1902, Edwin S. Porter released his little film, The Great Train Robbery. The first American film to tell a story and off we went to the races. The stunning, soon a new industry had been created in Westerns. Western films made up one-third of all the Hollywood product in the first 60 years of the film industry. The stunning commercial success of authors like Max Brand, and Zane Gray, inspired a host of lesser talents who filled the pulp magazine trade. But there was also Stephen Crane, and Ernest Haycox, Eugene Manlove Rhoads, Walter Van Tilburg Clark, Dorothy Johnson, Marie Sandos, Willa Cather, John Nygard, A.B. Guthrie, a string of novelists who added immeasurably to the American canon. And this was the great age of print of course, and the Western thrived. Not only in print, but on film. And so in 1953, three writers, who had noticed the sort of shift from pulps to paperback fiction, with the creation of the pocketbook during World War II, created a new organization. It was called The Western Writers of America. And they quickly moved into television writing, because television of course took off dramatically right at that very same time, and it's hard to believe, with only three networks, but there were 40 prime time television shows by 1959. Just, prime time Western television shows. So it was Westerns, Westerns, and Westerns. You couldn't get enough Westerns. And of course, television killed, you know, the Western--the Western book business. It was rescued briefly by Louis L'amour, who had incredible success, and still, of course, out-sells many of our modern authors, on the paperback racks of airports. But we've seen in recent years, as genre fiction like L'amour wrote died out, we've seen the rise of again serious Western fiction and not that L'amour wasn't serious, in books by Larry McMurtry, of course, Lonesome Dove, and its incredible success, Stephen Ambrose, with his success of Undaunted Courage, S.C. Gwynne, Empire of the Summer Moon. On it goes. Just, so many authors writing great fiction and non-fiction and the success of Lonesome Dove, and Dances With Wolves, helped to bring back the Western film. The Western Writers of America has sort of adapted to these changes in the field, and we're proud that we're not simply Louis L'amour, Max Brand, Zane Gray genre fiction anymore. That we have moved out. But our stories are always human stories. Stories about the west. Stories about the land, stories about people. A place of harshness and beauty and incredible diversity. A place that shaped the American psyche and continues to fire the world's imagination. The Western story is indeed the story of America. Well, the authors here today all celebrate that story. And let me, even though they need no introduction, let me introduce them to you. Ann Hillerman of Santa Fe, in the middle, is of course an award winning author, in our business, we say Spur Award winning author, because the Western Writers of America gives the Spur Award for the, for in several categories for writing. And Anne won that for her debut novel, Spiderwoman's Daughter, which followed the further adventures of the character that her father, Tony Hillerman had created and made famous, Jim Che, Joe Leaphorn, and she has, of course, followed up with a series of novels that have become New York Times best sellers, and established quite a name for herself, separate from her father's great record. The fifth novel in that series, The Tale Teller, released in April 2019, brings legendary Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn back into the world of her very successful books. Equally successful is Craig Johnson. ^M00:10:14 Wyoming Cowboy. Who lives in the town of Ucross, Wyoming, population 35. All of us from the west here, I'm from New Mexico, and of course so is Anne, and so is Johnny, but all of us are just kind of amazed that there are so many people. We haven't seen this many people in our [laughter]--how do you folks get around? This is amazing [laughter]. >> I don't--there are as many people in one given mile of I-95 as there are in all of Wyoming, I'm pretty sure about that [laughter]. >> Oh yeah, oh yeah [laughter]. Well, in New Mexico, we think we have urban sprawl compared to Wyoming [laughter]. When you've got more prong horns than you've got people, it's a pretty interesting place. Of course Craig is famous for his Longmire Series of novels which have been brought to television, now on Netflix, and incredibly successful, and of course, he is also a Spur Award winning novelist, the latest in the series is Land of Wolves. Johnny D. Boggs, of Santa Fe, is a prolific writer of novels, of juvenile fiction, of short stories, of non-fiction. He is an 8-time winner of the Western Writers of America Spur Award, which is a record, no one has won that many. And many of us who toil in the vineyards are kind of bitter about that. ^M00:11:46 [ Laughter ] ^M00:11:53 >> But we brought him here anyway [laughs], because we like his hat. By the way, you'll notice that my colleagues are all dressed Western, and I am a college professor, so I have worn my college professor outfit. I teach at the University of New Mexico, let me get that plug in [cheers]. Yeah. You've never heard of our football team, I know [laughter], and you never will [laughter]. Johnny's latest book is an unusual Western about a baseball team, and it's called the Kansas City Cowboys. At first, I want to ask the panelists about how they see themselves fitting into the Western as a genre, and how that genre is changed, and how they have adapted to those changes which have been really dramatic over the last 20 years. Craig, can we start with you? >> Whew, where do we fit in? >> Okay, I've got easier questions if-- >> No, no [laughter], I'm going to give it a try. Just going to give a little run up to it, that's all. For me, like, I guess the big question I always get asked is like, you know, where did you come up with the ideas of like, you know, doing a series of books about the Sheriff of the least populated county and the last populated state in America, and I've got to be honest, where that came from was I actually ran into two detectives for the Division of Criminal Investigation there in Wyoming, where we have one crime lab, in the entire state, down in Cheyenne, and it's in an old grocery store, and I ran to these two guys, I got on the Powder River one time, I said, "How long--" because this was whenever the CSI thing, craze, was really, I mean every other, you know, you talk about the 40 Westerns that were on television, it was like every other show was CSI: Hoboken, or CSI, you know, whatever. Like, and so, I asked these two guys, these two detectives there in Wyoming, I said how long does it take you guys to get DNA evidence? You know? Because it seems like they get it in two minutes on these TV shows, right? And so they looked at each other, and the one looks at me and says "Is this a high profile case?" I said, well, let's pretend like it is. He goes, "About six months" [laughter] and I was like okay! So! That's not particularly honest, then, what they're doing in these TV shows, and in these books and everything. A little bit of Adeas' Mecca, and he goes, yeah, yeah, it's not very real at all. And so I thought, well, if you did something that, you know, went in the opposite direction--and I'd done a lot of ride-alongs, and spent time with a lot of these sheriffs in Wyoming and Montana, and it seemed like if I tried to do something that was more character and place-based, you know, that was going to be more fun. You know, because I don't--I'm not complete lead-eyed. I don't like, hate, you know, technology. Even though I've got a Wyoming sheriff who doesn't know how to use a cell phone. But for me, like, it's always going to be much more interesting to have character and place. You know? Because I can, I can read about that. You know, for days. Like, and never get bored. You know? I really love the characters, I really love, you know, the location. That's always going to give me a lot more to work with like that. And I think that kind of became the hallmark, I think, for the series, and for me as a writer. >> And I think that is really sort of characteristic of novels about the West. >> Mm-hmm. >> I mean, I know when my dad started his series, back in 1970, it was really revolutionary because it was the first time that major readers who weren't just in the Southwest were attracted to a Native American detective, who was spending lots of time just driving in his car, and thinking, and talking about the beautiful country he was driving through. So, when I decided to continue the series, I mean, I was blessed with sort of that Western tradition of characters who stand on their own. I mean, half the cell phones don't work in New Mexico anyway, because there's an argent of towers, and there's too many mountains, so I wasn't troubled with having to integrate a lot of technology. But I was really delighted to be able to write about wonderful characters who care, not only about the law, but at a deeper sense about what justice is. >> Mm-hmm. >> And who also are really part of the landscape in which they live. I know for the Navajo people, and for your characters, too, the landscape is really sacred. And it has kind of formed who they are, and they're most comfortable living in this kind of beautiful empty country. And I think that has always been sort of part of the Western novel tradition. So that's my two cents. >> Johnny, you actually write genre fiction. Sometimes. >> Well, uh, yeah. >> Along with many other things. >> It's called a mortgage. >> Eight Spur Awards. >> So you ask me to write anything and I'll probably do it. But I think you know, I'm originally from South Carolina, and I moved out west as a newspaper journalist. And you just meet all these interesting and kind of stubborn and very independent people, and I've always thought it was--if you grow up watching Gunsmoke, you have this idea of what the west is. Then when you actually live out there and you realize it's incredibly diverse, and it could be a really hard place to live. And you learn about the land, and you can really kind of appreciate the land as a character. And it's a great character. But it can turn on you really fast, and you've got to be respectful and aware of that, all the time. >> Well, let's talk a little about that. I was thinking, Craig, when you're talking about DNA, like when Marshall Dillon was on television, on Gunsmoke. The idea of DNA evidence was that he would get off his horse, and see how fresh the tracks were [laughs], I wasn't going to say tracks, but I--was trying to think about how to talk about, but the horse's behind [laughter], as it moved along... >> Road apples! Road apples. >> Road apples thank you very much see [laughter], up in Wyoming, they know these things [laughter]. That was DNA evidence then [laughter]. Well, landscape really is, you all mentioned landscape. And landscape is always a major character. And you think about the great western films, certainly John Ford, I mean landscape is an integral part of the story, and it's integral to all of your stories, really integral to all of your stories. Craig, how does landscape work for you? And you work with a kind of very different landscape than Ann does, for instance. >> Oh yeah, I mean, you know, that's, it's interesting. Like, but there is a, I was thinking about what Johnny was saying, about like Gunsmoke. Gunsmoke. Because I made the remark last night, like, that you know, John Ford kind of made everybody think that the entire West looks like Monument valley, like, I mean the entire West does not look like Monument Valley, or parts of it that do, but I don't know, for me, the big thing is that it's not only a social and technological frontier, it kind of goes a little bit back to also what Johnny was saying too, I mean, like that's an interesting place to write about because things can go wrong so quickly. Like, that. And there's nothing that's more limited. I mean, we all kind of like, go through our lives with this idea that technology is the answer for everything, and then, you know, I can always tell whenever somebody is not from, you know, the West, or not from Wyoming, and they come up to me and go, "Why doesn't Walt carry a cell phone," and I'm always like, you've never been to Wyoming, have you? Okay, you know, because unless you're going to take selfies with the prong-horned antelope, it's really not going to be much use [laughter], you know, so for me, that's--it's always going to be, there's that great quote by Studs Turkle, where he said, you know, "nothing ever happened nowhere," you know, and you always have to be aware I think, you know, certainly, you know, whenever you're writing Westerns, just exactly what kind of an environ you're talking about. I mean, you know, where I live, like, literally my town has 25 people in it, you know, in the Big Horn Mountains, they're about the size of Rhode Island, for gosh sakes. And there isn't a ranching family that I know that hasn't had at least one family member, one ancestor or somebody who wandered off to go feed some cows, or went to go check some fence, and never came back, you know? That just kind of disappeared like that. And so every once in a while, it's kind of nice to remind ourselves, you know, that's a big world out there, and you know, we're just a very, very small part of it. >> You know, when you read your novels, Craig, it would seem that the homicide rate would be why everyone disappears up there [laughter]-- >> Now, now, you have to draw a comparison here, now, are you talking about the TV show, where they kill like, I don't know, two or three people a week or [laughter] are you talking about my books? What I did was, very quickly, I kind of came to the conclusion that this is going to be ludicrous, you know, or I thought, man, Absaroka County is Murder capital U.S.A [laughter], like, so what I did was, and this kind of seemed to make sense to me, because have you ever noticed in these mystery novels, always these protagonists, they're always solving cases and breaking all these cases, and nobody ever notices, you know? They just continue doing their quiet little job, wherever they're doing it, like, and so after the first, you know, couple of books, I decided, you know what? I'm going to have to like, widen Walt's jurisdiction and have him going out, you know, into other counties, you know, and other states. I would take him up into Montana over into South Dakota, I even took him all the way back to Philadelphia, for goodness sake, like, and it gave me the opportunity to write one of my favorite lines. Walt was in Fairmont Park, watching the fountains spray water into the air, and his statement was, "Like the humidity needed any help" [laughter] and if one more person called him Tex, you know, in Philadelphia, like he was going to strangle somebody like that, but yeah, I mean, you know, you've got to kind of spread it out a little bit at that point in time, I thought okay, you know, and people would. I mean, if you have a sheriff, you know in a state that has only 23, 24 counties, like then if you had a guy who was breaking those cases, he would get invited. There would be other sheriffs that would say, hey, I've got a little problem over here, how about coming and helping me out with this? You know, the Hollywood version is always hey, that's our turf, that's our jurisdiction. And generally that's not the way law enforcement works. You know, generally, everybody is in the fox hole, like that, you know, and if you've got somebody who can help you, then they'd try and help you. And I witnessed that, but actually with the Wyoming sheriff, like in Johnson County, who was going to go and do an investigation out on the Powder River, and he, you know, he was talking to the sheriff over in Campbell County. And I was listening very carefully to the conversation to see how he was going to approach this. And he said yeah, I'd like to come over and ask a few people in that town a couple of questions, and stuff, and like there was a long pause, and he knew I was listening, and he covered up the receiver, and he goes, "He says he'll pay for my gas," and so [laughter]-- >> Well, Anne benefits from the fact that she lives in my state, New Mexico. And our homicide rate really is astonishing so [laughter], so it's not quite all fictional. And your landscape really is Monument Valley, essentially. >> Yeah, it really is. >> And right next door to it-- >> In fact, in my second book, I was able to invent a movie company that's actually working in Monument Valley. And after--I had never written a novel before I wrote Spiderwoman's Daughter, so, I was pretty full of myself after that first novel came out. I thought, well now, I've got this down, and I'm going to have my two main characters solving a crime together, right? Every--people love that model. But my main character did not love that model. So I worked on that Monument Valley book, which I thought was going to be so brilliant, for about two months. And I could even--I could barely read it myself, it was so [laughter] awful. And finally it dawned on me, as beautiful as Monument Valley was, that the woman who I had raised up from a sidekick to being a main crime solver was done being a sidekick. And she needed her own story. And I always thought it was just kind of a writer's myth that your characters talked to you, and you know, tell you. But when your characters don't talk to you, then you are in trouble [laughter]. So, anyway, I figured out, I gave her her own story, and I was able to write about Monument Valley, and movie companies, and I have to say it's wonderful to live where you get to do research which involves long road trips, and just kind of being out, under the beautiful blue sky, and enjoying that country and then like, Paul does, doing the research for the background of it. So you have a little something to say while your characters are trying to figure out what to do next. So yeah, I love Monument Valley. And I'm glad the West doesn't all look like it. Because there are, there are so many other settings, too, that are wonderful to write about. >> Of course, in the Hollywood movies, everything is Southern California, no matter where you are. Dodge City, Kansas. Tombstone. It's Southern California. Johnny, Landscape is an integral part of your stories. And kind of informs them in the same way that Craig and Anne's stories use it. >> Right, yeah. And I'm not--I've not set any particular time period, or any particular setting. So, I'll move all over, from Montana, to pre-revolutionary war South Carolina. Which was the West, at that time. And the back country. And you learn, I mean, I watched, I watched the movie, The Patriot, remember that? With Mel Gibson, who we really don't want to mention ever again, but [laughter] and I was watching it, and it's set in South Carolina, based on actual history, and I said, "Where are the mosquitoes?" [laughter]. I'm there, they're the size of ravens [laughter], you've got to get that. And years ago I got invited on a cattle drive, and I was doing a magazine story, and they ask me, hey, you want to come up and it was for a ranching family and they said, well, we're doing our cattle--spring cattle drive. Do you want to come up and ride with us? Asking our Western writer if he wants to go on a cattle drive? Yeah, sure! And it was like a four-day trip in Arizona, and when I got home, I had to replace my glasses, because the dust scratched them so much, you know, that's a $300 pair of glasses for a $200 story [laughter]. But you learn about the character. And I always thought the best fiction is when the setting is part of the character, whether it's Raymond Chandler's Los Angeles, or Dickens, London, places like that, where you can really get a feel for that, and it really does shape who your characters are, and where they belong. >> Three hundred dollar pair of glasses, I guess...I guess all those Spur Awards, you don't go to like the chain stores, you go to Walmart to get your glasses, like college professors have to. Is that how it works [laughter]? >> Apparently you haven't bought glasses in a long time [laughter]. >> Native peoples form an integral part of the West, and of course, certainly of all the writers that we have here including myself, and dealing with native stories, Indian stories, and we call it Indian country, Indian people call themselves Indians. Usually they call themselves what they are, Navajos, Apaches, Shoshones, Arapahoe. But both of your stories and many of Johnny's novels are all set in Indian country, and of course, your stories are just--integrally dealing with native people all the time. You have to have a certain sensitivity, but also, I mean, you're writing novels, so you've got to--you've got to have drama, you've got to have a story, and how do you deal with that sort of touchy problem? >> Well, I think first of all, you've got to give credit where credit is due, like that, you know, and a lot of people forget that Anne's dad, like when he first started writing his series of books, that was 1968. That was not a period in time when it was cool to be Indian, okay? I mean, things have changed, a lot. Like since 1968. But for him to start a series of books like that, that had two native protagonists, who were the detectives, and the best thing I--the best description I ever heard was Wes Doody was one time doing a speech about Tony's books, you know, and he'd actually appeared, I think it was in the PBS version of Tony's books, and he said, you know what was so great, was as an Indian, reading these books, and there were two Tonto's and the Lone Ranger never showed up. ^M00:28:34 [ Laughter ] ^M00:28:40 >> And I don't know, for me, like, that kind of--that story kind of touches on your response, you know, kind of touches on one of my favorite aspects of it, is that, I don't think there's ever been a group of individuals that has ever been more maligned as the Native American, as not having a sense of humor. I mean, really, it's like one of the easiest ways to demean a group of people is by saying they don't have the high functions of humor, for goodness sake. And like, I'm always laughing about that, because that ain't the Indians that I know. And I do say Indians. I don't say Native Americans, because my Cheyenne buddies make fun of me when I try and be politically correct, when I try and say Native American, they always look at me and "Where were you born?" And I'm like, I was born in America! So you would be a Native American too, then, wouldn't you? ^M00:29:19 [ Laughter ] ^M00:29:22 >> But you know, it's--you know, the folks that I know, like they work on about 17 different layers of irony and if you're not aware of that irony, you get to be the butt of that irony, like, so for me, it's like, you know, it's just a big question of like, you know, making sure that these people are not just, you know, they're not just backdrop, you know? They're not just--they're a set dressing, like that. They're human beings. They're very complex human beings. A very complex culture. And whenever you're approaching it, you know, from the outside of that culture, I mean, these people are my neighbors. These are my friends. You know, practically some of them family. And so I have to be very careful, like, when I'm dealing with them. I'm sure that, you know, that Ann feels the same way. >> Yeah, yeah. Well, one precedent, that my dad said, when he started the series, that I have now broken, was that the bad guy was always a non-native person. One time he had, I think, a Cherokee, who was the bad guy. But if you were reading, if you-- >> Or as my friend Marcus Redthunder refers to it, "Generichy." >> [Laughter] Yeah, yeah. Yeah, so readers kind of caught on to that pretty quick, and they would limit the suspects for who could be the bad guy. So I, in the book that just came out, I actually had a Navajo being the bad guy. ^M00:30:41 And I had good reaction from my Navajo readers, saying, "You know, we always loved your dad's books, but we thought that was a little too predictable, so it's kind of nice to see the whole, to see that you're telling the whole story." Another thing, and I know you deal with this in your books, too. And I'm sure Johnny has, are all of the social problems that plague Indian country. >> Right. >> You know, the alcoholism, domestic violence, the poverty, the--and all of the contingent cloud around that. So, when you're writing, I mean, I'm writing novels. I'm not writing social commentary. But those, it's kind of--nice to be able to use a little bit of that, to tell the whole story of the contemporary west, which is the devastation caused by broken families, and boarding schools, and the whole disrespectful behavior that the American government had toward native people. But again, I don't want to get too heavy. And what you're saying about humor is really good. In the book that I just finished, I have my--there's a dog involved, and the dog is adopted by the Navajo family and so they say what are you going to call the dog? And they're calling the dog "come here" in Navajo. ^M00:31:51 [ Laughter ] ^M00:31:57 >> It's too much to work with, there was like, I was telling Marcus, like, and I guess in the Crow, in the Crow tribe, like a son-in-law is not allowed to talk to his mother-in-law. And so we went over to visit some people like that, and so the mother was talking to the dog, and saying "I have to go to the clinic later today, so if you know anybody that is going into town [laughter], make sure, at 2:00 they can give me a ride into town," and then the grandson is, the son-in-law is talking to the dog, too. He's like, "Well, I'm going to have the car ready to go around 2:00" and I'm so dying to write that scene [laughter], I just--it's taking the enamel off my teeth, I swear [laughter]. >> One more sign of the superiority of native culture [laughter]. >> Absolutely. >> Not allowed to talk to your mother-in-law. >> Wipe the problem out before it happens I guess [laughter]. >> Never thought I'd be doing mother-in-law jokes at a book festival but [laughter], boom! Johnny, baseball is the theme, to kind of change gears, baseball is the theme of two of your novels, including, including your latest, and I happen to know you are a baseball fanatic. So you have managed to weave that in. But there is a historical basis. >> There is. And the Kansas City Cowboys is about a 16-year-old phenomenal pitcher who really wants to be a real working cowboy, and he winds up playing for the Kansas City Cowboys, which in 1886, was the western-most national league team in baseball, and the myth is that they were expelled from the league after one season for hooliganism [laughter]. >> Uh oh. >> So, I just wanted to take some various themes of baseball and western fiction, and kind of merge them into one, where the cancan becomes a pitcher's wind-up, and the love interest is, instead of the rancher's daughter, it's the daughter of the owner of the baseball team, and just kind of mix it up, and kind of turn both baseball and the Western tropes on their ears. And we'll see actually how that works. And there's a little bit of--I mean, someone kind of said, man! There is a lot of profanity in that, in your novel. And I was like, you have never managed a team of 13-year-old boys [laughter]. >> Well, Johnny, we're certainly all hoping that this innovative novel does not win you a Nightspur [laughter]. And you've also done, I don't--I don't believe this is unusual, but it certainly is different from your other books, you've done a picture book. A photography book, Tony Hillerman's Country, and how was that? And of course, you worked with your husband, who is a renowned photographer? >> That book, when I did that book, my background was journalism. And I was totally happy doing non-fiction books. So when I did that book, partly in honor of my dad, and partly for my own curiosity, a lot of the places that he wrote about in the Navajo world, I had never been to. So, my husband and I spent a couple years driving here and there, talking to people, taking thousands of photos. And then, interestingly, when dad died, at first I was really missing him. Well, I'm still missing him. But I was profoundly missing him. But because of this book, I got a lot of invitations to do free--and I'd never done any talks, to do free talks at little libraries. And whenever I would do those talks, people, you know, I would say does anybody have any questions, and there always would be questions if there were going to be any more books in that series, and no, there weren't. My dad really took care of business before he left us. And after I heard that maybe 100 times, it dawned on me that besides missing my dad, I was really missing those stories too. And having done that non-fiction book, and re-read all of my dad's books, his voice, and the voices of the characters, was really strongly in my head. And all of the wonderful people I had met doing the research for that book then became resources to me as I was doing more research for my first novel. So I mean, life is just so fascinating. And it gives us such gifts. And I really saw the, doing that book as a gift from the universe to help me, then, make the bridge to putting on my big girl boots and writing fiction. So thank you for asking me that question. That book--I feel like that book is my first baby. I love that book. >> Well, of course we all know that non-fiction writing is the most important kind of writing [laughter]. The book is The Apache Wars, crown-level [laughter]. Feeling pretty well. Yeah. We all dream. And I certainly did with The Apache Wars, but it hasn't quite worked out, although it almost did. We all dream of going to Hollywood, big movie, television series made about our book, and you kind of hinted at this already Craig, but how has the television series impacted the way you are writing your series? Or has it at all? >> Oh, it hasn't really impacted the writing, that much, simply because I add like, I guess it was 7 books in the Walt Longmire Series out, that like before the television show started. But it has, like, you know, it sometimes does have an affect in your life, like that. Because there was one time we were going on tour, like, we were driving up to Billings, Montana, and I got to jump on a plane, and my wife was with me, and she knows that traveling with me is like traveling with a trained bear. As long as the bear stays fed, we're okay. But if the bear gets hungry, things can kind of go sideways. So we stop at this little café outside Red Lodge, Montana. And we're having lunch, and the, you know, I go over, and I'm paying for lunch, and when I'm not wearing one of these, I'm wearing one of those Absaroka County Sheriff's Department ballcaps that we have. And they've got like an emblem on the front, you know, and mine is kind of weathered down and everything, and if you didn't know there was no 24th County in Wyoming [laughter], if you didn't know there was no Absaroka County, they look pretty real, right? Like, so I've got that one on, and I'm writing the check for lunch, and the woman behind the counter goes, "Where'd you get that hat?" And she said it real aggressive-like, and I thought, oh no! She thinks I'm a real Sheriff's Deputy, and you know, somebody has dined and ditched, and now I'm going to have to go chase somebody down a main street of Red Lodge, and so I pointed at my head, and I go, "It's not a real county," and she goes, "The hell it's not! It's Walt Longmire's County!" ^M00:38:48 [ Laughter and Applause ] ^M00:38:55 >> So I felt like I'd been smacked, you know, [laughter] so I--I looked at her, and I go, well I'm Craig Johnson, and she goes, "So?" ^M00:39:00 [ Laughter ] ^M00:39:05 >> And I said, "Well, I'm the guy that writes the books," and she goes, "What books?" And [laughter], and that's when that little voice in the back of my head said you should just get out of here, you know? ^M00:39:13 [ Laughter ] ^M00:39:16 >> You should just salvage whatever, you know, remnants of you that you've got, that just--get out of here. But my pride wouldn't let me do it, and I said, "Well, the books that the TV show is based on," and she looks at me, and I'll never forget her response, she's like, "there are books?" So Dole-Viking-Penguin, I was like, that's going to be our motto from now, on everywhere I go, "Yes, there are books!" [Laughter] >> Very good [laughter]. I guess when the legend becomes fact, we really do write legends. >> Wear the ballcap [laughter]. >> Well, I guess it's a gift that Hollywood didn't pick up my book [laughter]. >> You'd look good in a ballcap, Paul [laughter]. >> You know, in fact, in the West, you're going to see a lot more ballcaps. ^M00:40:02 And you're going to see cowboy hats, it really is--most cowboys, you know, some post-docs have a hat on, for the most part. You know, the West, is--many Western novels, the best Western novels, obviously, the panelist's novels, have a kind of dark undercurrent in the story of the West. Always carries this dark undercurrent. But ultimately, the West is also incredibly optimistic. And how do you--you know, this is something I'm wrestling with in the new book I'm writing, which is a big history of the Western movement, from the Revolution to 1900. And how do you deal with both the darkness, the tragedy; the horror, but then also, the joy, the beauty, and the optimism that is ultimately the Western story? >> Well, one of the gifts of writing in the mystery genre is that you have the box in which your story has to lie. And part of that box is that whatever awful thing has happened, your characters figure out what it was, and if they don't make things right, at least they find the bad guy, and take care of that, and then your characters go on to solve another crime. And I think that in itself is kind of optimistic. And I think in a world where there are so many loose ends, and so many things that kind of leave us saying what happens next? The sort of optimism of the mystery genre is that, yeah, the book is done, the story is done, in the next book I'll get to see these characters again. So I think that's kind of part of why writing, and that kind of goes with the West. I mean, I think the West often was a place where people came to reinvent themselves. Things weren't going quite right, and so you came out, maybe you were the ornery daughter who didn't want to go to finishing school or whatever, so you came out to the West, you set up your own place, and you made something of yourself. And I think that kind of thread of optimism is really something that sustains our books. We love those kinds of characters, who, you know, kind of land on their feet no matter what sort of things are thrown at them. And you get into the dark stuff, but part of the skill, I think, of writing those mysteries is working that out, so that by the end of the story, all is well. Or at least it's better than when the story started. >> I actually went West to reinvent myself, truly, and then had to do it like two more times in the West, but [laughter] we have about 10 more minutes, and so I wondered if you have any questions from the audience, there are microphones, there if you would go to them, to ask your questions. I'm a college professor. If no one gets up, I'll call on you [laughter]. Yes, sir? >> Good morning. Mr. Johnson, I was wondering, was there any pick of Indian you had in mind for the character of Henry Standing Bear? >> Oh yeah, yeah. I mean, you know, one of my favorite quotes on writing is the one from Wallace Stegner, where he talks about the greatest piece of fiction ever written is the disclaimer at the beginning of every book that says nobody in this book is based off anybody alive or dead [laughter], what a crock that is. I mean, you know, anybody ever approaches this job knows that's what you do, like, you know, you've got to, you know, find people. And it's just--makes your life a lot easier. Like, the other thing is, it is kind of a nice, you know, catch guard like that, you know, for the native characters. I mean, I can go down the list of all the native characters that are in my books, and give you the exact equivalency of like, who it is, like that, I mean, Lonnie Little Bird is Charles' little old man, and obviously, you know, Dina Menoncamp is a good friend of ours, Mandy Smoker-Baradas [assumed spelling], and then Henry is this good friend of mine, Marcus Red Thunder, like that, who is just an amazing individual, you know, his spirituality, like that, and his sense of humor is just astounding. And I just, you know, you'd be a fool, you know, to not take those people and put them in your books, like, and then of course, change the names to protect the guilty, but other than that, you know, it's too much of an opportunity like that, so. Yes ma'am. >> Good morning. I have a son-in-law who is Kiowa, which I'd never heard of that try until my son-in-law popped along, and you, Mr. Johnson, wrote some Kiowa natives into your story, and I didn't realize there was a presence outside of Oklahoma. Are there a lot of Kiowa, up there? >> Not so much, but they do--the fun thing about our job is, like, of course, like, we get to, like, lay on the sofa by the woodburning stove and read, and then when my wife says "Are you going to do anything?" I can say, "I'm working here, I'm doing research," [laughter], okay, you know? And Anne probably has the same situation there, Johnny has too, like, but it may not look--I think your dad is pretty famous for that, right? He had a fairly famous quote about that, it was like, it was almost absolutely impossible to discern exactly when I am and when I am not working, like [laughter], that's a talent, I think. I guess, it's a real talent to have. >> Definitely, definitely. >> And we need another season of Longmire on Netflix-- >> Hey! >> Is that going to happen? >> Tell Warner Brothers, and Netflix, and get onto them there, like, let them know. >> And your son-in-law does speak to you [laughter]. Yes? >> I know we're in the Genre Fiction Room, but I wonder if the panel would comment on the idea that the Western ethos actually informs a much wider group of fiction and non-fiction, and I'm thinking about anything from the 7th Samurai becoming the Magnificent Seven, and Elmore Leonard starting as a Western writer, then becoming the foremost crime writer of his generation. Would you agree that the Western genre is really a much bigger influence on fiction and non-fiction? >> That sounds like you Johnny. >> That sounds like me, yeah, yeah. And 7th Samurai is a much better movie than The Magnificent Seven. >> Both versions. >> Both, absolutely. Especially all the sequels, but yeah, I mean, you think about how much western mythology and western culture has spread all over the world, I mean, you know, you wear a cowboy hat, and oh yeah, yeah, you're from the West. And when one of our Presidents says, you know, "Wanted Dead or Alive," and things like that, and wanted dead or alive is a myth. I mean, yeah, you can't do that in the West or anywhere else [laughter], I mean, you know, wanted dead or alive is illegal [laughter], I mean...trials come first [laughter]. Convictions come first [laughter], and then maybe, yeah, you can kill somebody. But that's all kind of hyperbole, and crazy, and when you start researching, you realize, wait a minute, all this stuff is not right. But I think the West is iconic. And it's something that is known worldwide, and even if it is Monument Valley, in Kansas [laughter], we understand what we're talking about and we certainly love all things Western, and I think the whole world loves everything Western. >> Johnny, don't spoil the beauty of a thing with fact [laughter]. I was, just personal story to that point, I was the historical consultant on the Western epic, Cowboys and Aliens [laughter]. ^M00:48:05 [ Laughter, Applause and Cheering ] ^M00:48:13 >> It's why those aliens look so good [laughter]. I went down to Roswell, I got to see [laughter]. Well, anyway, and the integral part of the story is a Wanted poster, with a picture of a hero on it. Well, and I had to inform John Favro, the Director, well John, there were no such Wanted posters. There was no printing technology to put a picture on a poster at the time period your Western is set. And he said, "That's too bad." ^M00:48:42 [ Laughter ] ^M00:48:47 >> Yes, sir, one more question? >> Powder River. Mr. Johnson, I was wondering--love the books, but obviously a Wyoming Cowboy fan, and I have always wondered why Walt would go to USC to play his college football? >> Why did Walt go to USC to play football [laughter], it was the sixties, I guess [laughs]. I just--I don't know. I mean, Walt was like, you know, because, I mean, one of the things, you know, that the TV people asked me like that was, they said, you know, why is Walt as big as he is? Because, you know, in the books, Walt is like 6 foot 5, and weighs you know, 257 pounds, and you know, he was an offensive lineman, you know, for USC, Marine Investigator, all of these things, like, but the biggest thing was I knew what I was going to do to him. I knew that, you know, I was going to beat him up, you know, horribly, like that, you know, at least in every other book. Like, so I thought, okay, he better have some longevity, he'd better be of a pretty good size. Like that, and so, he was actually, you know, probably one of the best, you know, offensive linemen, you know, in the 1960s coming out of high school and like that, and so one of the real powerhouse teams at that point in time was USC, like that. And so, I thought okay, you know, he's been in Wyoming all the way through high school, like it's time for him to go ahead and get out of there, like, I thought, you know it's the 60s, probably southern California, probably looked pretty good to him like that. And so I've got this image in the back of my head that is going to come to fruition maybe in one of the later books, because after his experiences in Vietnam, the Provost Marshall for the Marine Corps kind of ships him off to Johnston Atoll, to get rid of him which is this rock in the middle of the Pacific ocean, and like that, and so Walt actually surfed a little bit, in the 1960s like that, and so whenever he got out of Vietnam, he kind of went back to a little bit of surfing at the Johnston Atoll, and so it just makes for, you know, I guess more layers for that character like that. And then, of course, with the predominant wind that they have down there in Laramie, I didn't want Walt to have that constant kind of lean to him like that, you know [laughter], I figured I'd ship him off somewhere else, like that, you know? >> Thank you so much for coming. Thank the authors. ^M00:50:52 [ Applause ]