James Oliver Curwood, Disciple of the Wilds

by Hobart Donald Swiggett

Shortly thereafter Fred Janette heard of the incident and immediately took to Jim’s rescue through the press itself. He wrote that Joplin had shown himself to be a superlative ass and that his own egotistical self-centered nature would be his downfall. At the same time the citizens of Owosso took up the battle in favor of young Jim. By the hundreds, letters of opinion flooded into the office of The Argus.

Because the editor of a small town newspaper had seen fit to publish a short story by one of the town’s citizens, the miracle had occurred and the young writer was beginning to receive publicity that he had not expected in his wildest dreams to come to him so soon. His name and the story concerning him was being printed on the front page of every large newspaper throughout the country. It was more than state news now, for it contained color and adventure that millions of people enjoy.

As days went by Jim began receiving congratulatory mail from all parts of the country. All this, because of the publication of one apparently mediocre story. But it was doing him more good than he realized at the time. He was getting his name before the public as a writer and that in itself was worth its weight in gold.

It was not long before the Detroit Journal asked for a contribution. Naturally it was quite a surprise for the growing boy and when this happened he saw his chances for success suddenly rise to new heights.

“The Fall of Shako” was written November 2, 1894. It was published in The Owosso Argus on November 21 of that year.

The day before publication of that wonderful “first” of Jim Curwood’s, he had been unknown and unsung. The next day everyone in Owosso, in surrounding towns and in many states knew that James Oliver Curwood lived on John Street and that he was a writer of no mean degree. Although the Detroit Journal was the first to ask for some of Jim’s work, other papers in Detroit immediately followed suit as well as a few papers elsewhere in the state. However, as the Journal had been the first to contact him, Jim submitted a group of his tales from which two were quickly chosen. These were “Pontiac’s Last Blow” and “The Angel from Heaven.” To his amazement he received no payment for these contributions. Several days later he completed a new tale entitled, “The Girl with the Rareripe Lips and the Raven Hair,” which he promptly mailed to the Journal, and this was as promptly accepted. No payment was made for that story either. So, with renewed energy and determination, Jim took down his worn book of synonyms and dictionary and began writing with more ambition than ever before.

After a long trip to New York, Fred Janette returned to Owosso to see how his young charge was faring. He was quite surprised at the progress the young writer was making. He was not only pleased, but deeply contented. Yet, within him, Fred Janette felt that something was wrong somewhere along the line, and he decided to delve more deeply into the career of young Jim.

With careful deliberation he began reading the few published works of the young author. Hardly had he finished reading the stack of manuscripts than he immediately “yanked” the boy into his private study once more. Here he explained fully just what Jim would have to do and what he must not do. Fred Janette finally convinced Jim that he must write hard and earnestly for a long time before he could hope to receive payment for his work. It was during this session that he advised Jim to try writing a juvenile serial for experience, if for nothing else.

All during the long heavy snows of the winter of 1893 Jim sat at his desk on John Street, hammering away on his two twenty-thousand-word serials. They were entitled “The Rebel Quintette,” and “Firelock of the Range.” Today, forty-nine years later, those two manuscripts still remain in the dungeon of Curwood Castle, for they were never published.

Of these two scripts, Curwood said in later life: “These pencil-scrawled manuscripts, yellow with age, are among those I sometimes show to those whom I sincerely desire to understand what is not good writing. Neither was ever published.”