James McGrath Morris is a biographer and award-winning writer of narrative non-fiction. His works include The Rose Man of Sing Sing: A True Tale of Life, Murder, and Redemption in the Age of Yellow Journalism, which was a Washington Post Best Book of the Year; and, Jailhouse Journalism: The Four Estate Behind Bars. He is also the author of the Kindle Singles Revolution by Murder: Emma Goldman, Alexander Berkman, and the Plot to Kill Henry Clay Frick. In 2019 he received the BIO Award, which is given to a writer who has made a major contribution to the advancement of the art and craft of biography. 

His newest book is Tony Hillerman: A Life, which offers a balanced portrait of Hillerman’s personal and professional life and provides a timely appreciation of his work, including the almost accidental invention of Hillerman’s iconic detective Joe Leaphorn and the circumstances that led to the addition of Jim Chee as his partner. Hillerman’s novels were not without controversy, and Morris examines the charges of cultural appropriation leveled at the author toward the end of his life. Yet, for many readers, including many Native Americans, Hillerman deserves critical acclaim for his knowledgeable and sensitive portrayal of Diné (Navajo) history, culture, and identity.

James stops by In Reference to Murder to take some Author R&R about "How Hillerman Taught Me To Accept My Mistakes":

In 1979, I wrote Tony Hillerman a fan letter. I was then working as a reporter in Jefferson City, MO, and I was curious to find out if the state’s capitol had been the model for his book The Fly on the Wall.

Apparently I wasn’t the only person to ask this question. “I run into reporters all over who say, ‘I know which State Capitol you are using. You use Jefferson City, Missouri or . . . ,’” said Hillerman. “You know they tend to be alike. It was actually based on the Capitol at Oklahoma City, where I had worked.”

I had briefly meet Hillerman the previous year or two when I was working as a journalist in Albuquerque, NM, where he lived. In my letter I reminded him of our passing acquaintance and asked about the possible connection between his book and Missouri’s capitol.

He replied. This was several years before his Navajo mystery novels became best-sellers generating such extensive fan mail that he ceased being able to write back. In his letter to me, Hillerman, unfailingly polite, said his fictitious capitol building might include some similarities with Missouri’s but was based on Oklahoma’s.

Then Hillerman asked if I had spotted the mistake in the book? I had not. So as not to give it away instantly, the author had taken the sheet of stationery out of his typewriter and put it back in upside down. That way the answer appeared upside down so I could not read it immediately.

When I flipped the page, I learned that the protagonist John Cotton had removed his shoes in a nighttime visit to the capitol, so that the men chasing him would not hear his steps on the marble floor, but he never put them back on. He then walked through streets wet with sleet, took a cab ride, and arrived at the final scene in the house of the Democratic Party state chairman, all in stocking feet.

“Readers do pay close attention. I get letters from ones who just read to find errors,” Hillerman said. “The best one I’ve ever had,” Hillerman commented with regard to reader complaints, “was when I got a call at 10 p.m. one night. The fellow said, ‘I used to have a lot of respect for you until I’ve just been reading Dance Hall of the Dead. Don’t you know deer don’t have gall bladders?’”

Over the course of eighteen Navajo novels, Hillerman would err no more than most writers but his immense readership included many eagle-eyed fans who eagerly pointed out mistakes. Re-reading Hillerman’s books and studying his papers in the course of preparing  a biography of his life, I found the author had a healthy attitude about the small errors he made. He accepted the fact that they were inevitable and unless they were major, errors could make for a good story. And, Tony Hillerman loved a story.

I’ve come to adopt his approach and often think about how, usually with a laugh, he recounted to audiences some of the mistakes he had made in his books. Over time, he grew fond of the one involving John Cotton’s shoeless night trek through bad weather, frequently sharing it with readers, like with the fan who wrote him in 1979.

You can learn more about Morris and his work via his website, and also follow him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. Tony Hillerman: A Life is available today from the University of Oklahoma Press via all major booksellers.