Craig Johnson On Wyoming's Inspiration, How Westerns Have Evolved, And His Latest Longmire Novel

In this episode of Writing the West, we sit down with bestselling author Craig Johnson, the mind behind the beloved Walt Longmire series, to discuss his upcoming novel Return to Sender. From his Wyoming ranch, Johnson reflects on the enduring relevance of the Western genre, the real-life stories that inspire his plots, and why voice, empathy, and lived experience matter in good storytelling. With warmth and wit, he opens up about his writing journey, the evolution of Walt Longmire, and what it takes to keep readers—and himself—hooked after 21 books.

Transcript

Cowboys & Indians: Craig, welcome to the Writing the West podcast. Glad to have you on.

Craig Johnson: Thanks, Tyler. Good to be here.

C&I: I'm a former English teacher, so writing is kind of my world. I love getting to talk to authors about their craft—and pushing, especially for the younger listeners out there—to really jump into this world and seize it by the horns.

Craig: Yeah, yeah. It's interesting like that, because I guess there's a certain drop-off of interest with a lot of younger people, as far as Westerns are concerned. But I think what they're doing is pigeonholing the whole idea of the Western—that it's got to be Gunsmoke, or Oh, Mr. Dillon and all of that. They don’t seem to understand this is a genre that has had such a large and broad influence on literature, film, and television. Without what came before, none of those things would exist, for goodness' sake.

I was laughing with a friend the other day. We were talking about how there’ve been a lot of issues at Disney with the Star Wars stuff—it hasn't been doing as well as the earlier films. And I think the answer to that is they abandoned the idea of a Western in many ways. If you look at those early films, George Lucas and Steven Spielberg were pretty smart about what they were doing. They were smart enough to recognize a workable—not a formula—but tropes and storytelling possibilities that the Western permits, and that maybe nothing else really does. Anyway, that was just my opening blast on that.

C&I: Exactly. Beautifully said. Let’s start with what inspired Return to Sender, due out May 27. From the cover and what I’ve read so far, it has to be Walt’s most intriguing ride yet. You credited Cowboy State Daily with one of their articles being the inspiration. What about that story hooked you as a novelist?

Craig: I mean, it’s no secret—or if it is, it’s a dirty little secret—but the truth is, all my books are based off newspaper articles. Every single one, going all the way back to The Cold Dish, which came from an article I read in The New York Timesabout a young girl in a New Jersey town who was taken advantage of—and the young men responsible basically got off with suspended sentences.

One of the big elements you have to take into consideration when writing mysteries—or Westerns—is empathy. There was a guy you may have heard of, named Tony Hillerman. Anne knows him pretty well. I remember sitting and talking with Tony once, and he said, “You’ve got to sit in all the chairs. You have to be all the characters, or else you're just writing cardboard.” I had to think about that when I read that article. I thought, "If that were my daughter, and she were mentally handicapped, and had been taken advantage of—and these guys got off without paying much of a price—I could see how you’d be driven to the point of doing something rash."

That’s an important aspect of the writing we do in both Western and mystery genres. If you’re going to have an antagonist, that antagonist better be up to the game. There’s a great quote from the Northern Cheyenne tribe: “You judge a man by the strength of his enemies.” I think about that every time I write a book. Is this antagonist really going to give Walt Longmire a run for his money?

So you sit in all those chairs, and that’s part of the storytelling process. When I started, I had an education in writing—but I didn’t let that get in the way of becoming a writer. First, you have to decide what you want to write. Then, you’ve got to find that voice—the voice of the characters, the world, all of it.

I think I was in my early 40s when I started, which I thought was really young. Then I read that F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote The Great Gatsby at 28—and that pissed me off. I thought maybe I was late to the game. But I also think the writers I admire most had life experience. A lot of them didn’t start out as writers—they were other things first.

You mentioned Louis L’Amour earlier—he’s the classic example. He had life experience, and you can tell he’s been there. He’s met those people. He knows how to bring them across on the page.

Of course, then you try to write that first book—and that’s the forging in fire. I got started on mine, got the first two chapters done, and then took a 10-year hiatus. I started The Cold Dish when I was 33. I’d sometimes complain to my wife, Judy, saying, “If I’d just gotten on the horse and rode back when I started this…”

And she’d look at me and say, “Well, you're a different man at 43 than you were at 33. You’re more of an approximation of Walt Longmire now. You know more about who he is and how he speaks.”

Voice is so important. The voice of the storyline is critical. And finding Walt’s voice in that first book was key. That book wasn’t even meant to be a series—it was just supposed to be a standalone Western novel.

Then Catherine Court at Viking Penguin sat me down—this is their 100th anniversary, by the way—and she said, “We really like these characters. We really like this place.” I said, “Thank you. I’m glad you do. You’re publishing it.” But she said, “No, we think there are more stories to be told here.”

And I said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. How many people can you kill in the least populated county in the least populated state before it gets silly?” And she said, “Craig, you’re a smart guy. You’ll figure it out.”

So I went back to Wyoming, and my wife reminded me that after finishing that book, I went through a period of mourning. I’d lost those characters. She told me, “You’re the only one who can write the next one. So do it.”

And here I am, 21 years later, still writing Walt Longmire. He’s still good company. That’s probably the key element. There really isn’t a formula to my books. You mentioned Return to Sender—how it’s different from the others. I always laugh when I get an email from someone saying, “I hated your last book.” I always write back, “Don’t worry about it. The next one’s completely different.” And it always is.

The contracts I have with Viking Penguin only say two things: it must be a mystery, and it must have Walt Longmire in it. That’s it. That gives me a lot of freedom to explore different directions. So then it just becomes about doing something unique.

Some people want the grocery-store checkout books—stories that are simple, comforting, filled with familiar tropes. That’s fine. But I don’t think those are my readers. My readers want something different each time. They want to be challenged. They want to learn something new. And honestly, I do too. I enjoy Walt’s company, but I also enjoy trying something different—and this book is no exception.

It all started with that article in Cowboy State Daily, about Taber Morris, the woman with the longest postal route in the U.S.—over 300 miles a day. And with the nefarious mind of a mystery writer, the first thing I thought was: “If she went missing, where would you even start looking?” That route is the size of Maryland!

So I called up the postal inspector for the state of Wyoming—because that’s one of the great things about living here. You can do that. And the first thing he said was, “Well, it’s not a federal crime.” I said, “What’s not?” And he said, “A missing postal worker.” But the mail is federal property the moment it goes into the receptacle—so interfering with that is a federal crime.

I paused, and he said, “Yeah, you could bring in the FBI. You could bring in anybody. I'd bring in Walt Longmire.”

And that’s what happens in Return to Sender. It’s Walt’s second time undercover in 21 books, and…

C&I: He doesn’t hide well, does he?

Craig: No, not very well. He’s 6’5”, 255 pounds. He doesn’t exactly blend in. But that leads to some pretty comic situations—like him trying to pretend to be a mailman. It’s a highly technical field with tons of jargon, and Walt doesn’t know any of it.

C&I: Speaking of blending in—and enemies—you mentioned Star Wars, which made me think of how every Western, even ones without cowboy hats, hinges on place and opposition. You set this one in the Red Desert of Wyoming, which feels almost otherworldly. What made that such a rich setting for the novel?

Craig: The actual postal route is in that south-central part of Wyoming, but I wanted to include the broader Red Desert because it’s such an extraordinary place. That’s the thing about Wyoming—it can be desolate, wide-open, and then somehow, even more isolated around the next bend.

Whenever Walt is going somewhere in the books, I try to go there too. I want to experience what he experiences—short of being stabbed or shot, of course—because sense memory helps me write more honestly. It keeps me from falling back on clichés or lazy writing. The last thing I want to do is put the reader to sleep.

I always tell students: “If you write something and it sounds like someone else wrote it—guess what? They did.” You’ve got to find your own voice.

And describing that part of Wyoming—that was the challenge. Studs Terkel once said, “Nothing ever happened nowhere.” So it’s our job to make the setting as real and tangible as possible. I want readers to feel like they’ve been there.

Funny enough, one of my degrees is in playwriting. I did that to learn dialogue, since that’s all playwrights have. But when The Cold Dish came out, the early reviews praised all the descriptive passages. Not a word about the dialogue! I wasn’t sure if I was wasting my time or just being overshadowed by other strengths.

C&I: Well, my screenwriting professor always said: “If I notice the dialogue, it’s probably unnatural.”

Craig: There you go. That makes me feel a little better.

C&I: You’ve talked before about killing off your darlings—those minor characters who may only appear in one book. And obviously, Return to Sender brings in new ones, even as Walt remains the backbone of the series. How much fun is it to populate each new story with fresh faces?

Craig: Oh, it’s a joy. It’s one of the best parts. You do have recurring characters, of course, but there’s always ebb and flow.

After every book, I get emails: “There wasn’t enough of [insert favorite character here].” Not enough Henry. Not enough Vic. And I knew I’d reached a new milestone when readers started saying there wasn’t enough Dog in the last book.

This particular book has Walt alone for much of the time. Early on, I had to decide: do I give him someone to talk to? Maybe a dog? Or do I have him talk to himself? And I don’t know about you, but armed people who talk to themselves make me nervous. So I went with the dog—and he plays a bigger role in this story.

There are also returning characters—like Walt’s daughter, Cady. She might become Attorney General of Wyoming. At one point, the governor says to Walt, “How do you feel about taking orders from your daughter?” Walt says, “You talk like that’s something new. I’ve been taking orders from her for 35 years!”

And with series writing, you have the joy of bringing back minor characters and giving them more depth. Some of my characters have popped back up 20 books after their first appearance. That’s the joy—it weaves the books into a tapestry. You get some of that in a standalone novel, but in a series, you really build a world.

C&I: Definitely. And over two decades now, whether you’ve liked it or not, you've become a standard-bearer for the modern Western. In your eyes, what do you think the Western genre is doing well—and where is it still evolving in 2025?

Craig: I’m seeing a lot of really wonderful younger writers coming up—and they’re stretching the genre. They’re taking the Western and pushing it into places nobody would’ve thought of 20, 30, 50 years ago. That’s what invigorates a genre. That’s what keeps it alive.

When I talk to Western Writers of America, I always say, “Let’s not just rewrite Zane Grey or Louis L’Amour. Because guess what? Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour were pretty good at writing Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour. You don’t want to go up against them. So do something different.”

Hollywood loves to say, “The Western is dead.” They say it every year. But then—boom—we come roaring back. That’s the beauty of it. It’s a genre that can stretch. I’ve got other books I’m working on: a historical mystery, a psychological thriller, and a straight-up period Western. But I see elements of Western storytelling in everything I write.

It’s not just about location or wearing a cowboy hat. It’s a set of themes—of identity, of moral choices, of landscape and law—and those things can exist in any setting. It’s a wonderful storytelling tool.

C&I: Absolutely. And you’re asked this in just about every interview: how do you not run out of ideas? I think your answer is always, “I live in Wyoming.”

Craig: I do. And I’ve got to be careful. Living in Wyoming, and doing a lot of talks with the Wyoming Sheriff’s Association, the Western Sheriff’s Association, and the National Sheriff’s Association—those guys are full of stories. And the danger is, a lot of those stories are so unbelievable that no one would ever think they were real. I sometimes have to tone them down, or abandon them altogether, because no one would buy it.

C&I: Right. How important has it been to your career to live in the place you’re writing about and really root yourself in the identity of the West?

Craig: Oh, I think it’s essential. I’m sitting here at my ranch—I stacked every one of these logs, poured the concrete, did the rough electric and plumbing. My dad believed you were slave labor until you escaped. So when my brother and I finally did, we were thrilled. But that experience? That built something in me.

Living here—building this place stick by stick, and being here for more than 30 years—has absolutely informed Walt’s world. Johnson County will probably never appear by name, because I fictionalized it as Absaroka County, but everything about it—its people, its landscape, its weather—it’s all in there.

And the longer you stay, the more your perspective changes. The world changes too. I’d hate to think Walt Longmire hasn’t evolved in 20 years. His relationships deepen. The challenges he faces shift. The law enforcement landscape looks different now than it did when I started the series.

I did cheat a little with his age. I decided I’d slow things down. I do what I call a “Vivaldi” structure—four books equal one year of Walt’s life. One book per season. That way, even though I’ve been writing him for over 20 years, he’s only aged five years in his world. That helps Walt stick around a little longer.

C&I: Exactly. And we hope he sticks around for many more rides.

Craig: Thank you.

C&I: Just a final fun one before we wrap: if you could sit down with any Western writer, past or present, and have an ice cream, who would it be—and what would you want to ask?

Craig: That’s easy: Walter Van Tilburg Clark—writer of The Ox-Bow Incident and Track of the Cat. He doesn’t get enough credit for pushing Western literature into deeper psychological territory. He was a fantastic teacher too—I would’ve signed up for any class he taught.

His understanding of the human psyche—how it plays out in the West—is so sharp. On the surface, his storylines seem simple, but once you start reading, they unfold into something much more complex. And hey, if he made a grocery list, they probably would’ve made a movie out of it! That shows he was speaking to the audience of his time.

My close runner-up? Dorothy M. Johnson. No relation. But any schoolmarm from Missoula who could write The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, The Hanging Tree, and others—she had a deep understanding of the American West. Because she lived it.

C&I: She absolutely did. Craig, it’s been a pleasure having you on. For everyone listening, Return to Sender drops May 27—another unforgettable chapter in the Walt Longmire legacy. And Craig, we’ll be looking forward to the next one.

Craig: Thanks, Tyler. Look forward to talking with you again.