James Oliver Curwood, Disciple of the Wilds

by Hobart Donald Swiggett

“Fine, Jimmy boy, that’s fine!”

Throughout the preceding seven years Jim Curwood’s interest in writing and literature had never abated. Now, at fifteen, the thrill and enjoyment of his chosen life work was surging through his veins at a much greater rate of speed. Now he had a typewriter on which to write his stories instead of scrawling them on wrapping paper with a dull pencil. Writing was a part of him. It would have been an impossibility for him to have given it up, even if his very life had depended upon it. For Jim Curwood was certain, even at that adolescent age, that Jim Curwood would become a great writer.

Despite the fact that he had not mustered up enough courage to submit any of his stories to editors, he knew that he must continue pounding a typewriter or “die the death of a lost soul.”

Long before the Curwood family moved to the new home on John Street on the bend of the river, young Jimmy used to collect all sorts of wrapping paper and cut it into sheets of standard size in order to keep his work in good shape. Then he would write his stories out in crude fashion and once he had completed them would bind them together to make a compact volume. As a matter of fact, Jim would often set his stories down on anything that would make itself available. As a result of all those prodigious hours of writing as a child there are literally thousands and thousands of manuscripts filed away in neat stacks in the bottom of his writing studio today.

The first story of Jim Curwood’s to appear in print was entitled “The Fall of Shako,” which appeared in the Owosso paper, The Argus. The unusual feature of this first appearance in print was that “The Fall of Shako” took young Jim much longer to write than any of his other stories.

The story was accepted by George Campbell, who at that time was the editor and owner of The Argus, and he published it with Jim’s by-line in bold type directly below the title. No payment was made for its publication, but at that time Jim thought little, if at all, of remuneration.

Living in Owosso then was a man named Dave Joplin who, for some unknown and mysterious reason, disliked Jim’s father. With the publication of the story with the by-line, JAMES CURWOOD, in bold type, he believed he saw the opportunity he had been anxiously waiting for. He did not realize that Mr. Curwood had a son by the same name, and was mistakenly under the impression that the author was none other than the subject of his dislike.

With calm deliberation Dave Joplin sat down with his pen flaming hot and wrote harsh criticism of “The Fall of Shako.” This he sent directly to the office of The Argus.

He termed the story an insult to the intelligence of the people of the community and one composed of childish drivel.

Publisher George Campbell, sensing the possibilities of the joke, published the “flaming letter of criticism” on the front page of The Argus. Instantly it boomed back in the form of hundreds of letters and postcards from angry and outraged citizens, who protested vehemently against a man like Joplin attacking the young writer. Realizing his mistake, Joplin promptly offered apologies, but the public was up in arms over the silly, idiotic outburst of a full grown man.