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September 18, 2021

Books, Horses, and Vintage Ribs

Craig Johnson

I got run over by a horse a couple of days ago, which is unfortunate in that I’m on tour for the next few weeks. It wasn’t really his fault -- he had hurt his hoof, and I was attempting to doctor him by soaking it in a bucket of Epsom salts, evidently something he didn’t appreciate. He’d gotten skittish, jumped back, and then launched himself forward like the charge of the Light Brigade. In my life I have labored under a number of delusions, one of them being that I’m relatively indestructible. I lifted my arm just as Albert drove through the barn door sending the majority of his one-thousand-pound mass into my two-hundred-pound body -- slamming me backward and onto the ground. I broke three ribs back when I was twenty-six and thought I was going to die; this felt a lot like that only worse. As I lay there trying to breathe a modicum of air back into my lungs all I could mumble was, “Crap, only seventeen books… And I’m nowhere even near being done with Walt Longmire.” The seventeenth novel in the series, Daughter Of The Morning Star, hits the shelves this Tuesday, September 21st, and it’s important to me for a number of reasons. It’s a story that deals with Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, a cause near to my heart and it’s a Rez book, one where Walt doesn’t have his usual resources to count on but falls back on the best back-up he could ever possibly have -- Henry Standing Bear. Daughter Of The Morning Star was a book I had been waiting to write with a lot of old friends returning from previous books and scads of new people. The book is part mystery, part thriller, part paranormal, part western fiction, part history, and part comedy. In essence, what I’ve been doing for seventeen years but with a few new twists… There’s always a certain amount of trepidation in turning loose a new novel onto the world. Daughter Of The Morning Star puts Walt in some new situations and experiences and maybe that’s the key to never growing truly old -- never stop learning and never stop being interested in the world around us. The seventeenth novel in the Longmire series. It doesn’t feel like seventeen years -- it seems more as if I’ve blinked, and Walt’s lived a little more than four years since we first met him back in The Cold Dish. Readers who are familiar with my process know it takes four books, each one representing a season, for me to get through one year of the sheriff’s life. When I first started writing, the greatest fear I had was that I’d get formulaic or bored with the guy, but I needn’t have worried, he’s been excellent company over the years and I’m not sure I’ll ever let him go. All this passed through my mind as I lay there listening to the flies buzzing and watching the September sun filter through the rough-cut slats of the barn I’d built. The horse limped over and sniffed at me as I tried to convince myself that my ribcage hadn’t met the same fate as the six-hundred of the Light Brigade. I’m looking forward to seeing everybody out there on the Tour Of Duty for Daughter Of The Morning Star -- it’s a book that I am proud of. The only thing I ask, is that you don’t hug me too tightly or shake my right hand too vigorously. They say that there isn’t much they can do about cracked ribs other than wrap them and give me some high strength Tylenol but getting out there and seeing everybody might just be the medicine I need. See you on the trail, Craig Return to Post-Its

Sign up for Craig’s Post-It Newsletter using this link. If you need help, please see the Contact page.

September 18, 2021

Books, Horses, and Vintage Ribs

Craig Johnson

I got run over by a horse a couple of days ago, which is unfortunate in that I’m on tour for the next few weeks. It wasn’t really his fault -- he had hurt his hoof, and I was attempting to doctor him by soaking it in a bucket of Epsom salts, evidently something he didn’t appreciate. He’d gotten skittish, jumped back, and then launched himself forward like the charge of the Light Brigade. In my life I have labored under a number of delusions, one of them being that I’m relatively indestructible. I lifted my arm just as Albert drove through the barn door sending the majority of his one-thousand- pound mass into my two-hundred-pound body -- slamming me backward and onto the ground. I broke three ribs back when I was twenty-six and thought I was going to die; this felt a lot like that only worse. As I lay there trying to breathe a modicum of air back into my lungs all I could mumble was, “Crap, only seventeen books… And I’m nowhere even near being done with Walt Longmire.” The seventeenth novel in the series, Daughter Of The Morning Star, hits the shelves this Tuesday, September 21st, and it’s important to me for a number of reasons. It’s a story that deals with Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, a cause near to my heart and it’s a Rez book, one where Walt doesn’t have his usual resources to count on but falls back on the best back-up he could ever possibly have -- Henry Standing Bear. Daughter Of The Morning Star was a book I had been waiting to write with a lot of old friends returning from previous books and scads of new people. The book is part mystery, part thriller, part paranormal, part western fiction, part history, and part comedy. In essence, what I’ve been doing for seventeen years but with a few new twists… There’s always a certain amount of trepidation in turning loose a new novel onto the world. Daughter Of The Morning Star puts Walt in some new situations and experiences and maybe that’s the key to never growing truly old -- never stop learning and never stop being interested in the world around us. The seventeenth novel in the Longmire series. It doesn’t feel like seventeen years -- it seems more as if I’ve blinked, and Walt’s lived a little more than four years since we first met him back in The Cold Dish. Readers who are familiar with my process know it takes four books, each one representing a season, for me to get through one year of the sheriff’s life. When I first started writing, the greatest fear I had was that I’d get formulaic or bored with the guy, but I needn’t have worried, he’s been excellent company over the years and I’m not sure I’ll ever let him go. All this passed through my mind as I lay there listening to the flies buzzing and watching the September sun filter through the rough-cut slats of the barn I’d built. The horse limped over and sniffed at me as I tried to convince myself that my ribcage hadn’t met the same fate as the six-hundred of the Light Brigade. I’m looking forward to seeing everybody out there on the Tour Of Duty for Daughter Of The Morning Star -- it’s a book that I am proud of. The only thing I ask, is that you don’t hug me too tightly or shake my right hand too vigorously. They say that there isn’t much they can do about cracked ribs other than wrap them and give me some high strength Tylenol but getting out there and seeing everybody might just be the medicine I need. See you on the trail, Craig Return to Post-Its