Chapter 9 - Joe IDAHO

Joe IDAHO, author and archeologist, shares how he digs up great stories. 

https://www.joeidaho.com/ 

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Emma: Theodore Roosevelt was many things: a rough rider, big game hunter, naturalist, and a United States President. But in this story, he is also a Bigfoot hunter. Samuel Smith, writing as Joe Idaho, is here in the studio with me today. Hello, Samuel. How are you doing today?

Samuel: Hello. I'm doing well. Thank you for having me on.

Emma: Oh, thank you so much for coming in. So, tell me about the name Joe Idaho.

Samuel: Thanks for asking. That's a great question. So I write as Joe Idaho for several reasons. Before becoming an author, I was a field archaeologist. I worked on a lot of projects in other states. And a crew I was working on in Texas had two other Sams on it. I was the only Idahoan on that crew, and most of the people I worked with were pretty unfamiliar with Idaho. I remember one person saying, "You're the Sam from Idaho, right? Your state's really flat with lots of cornfields and county fairs." And I think they were talking about Iowa. But to sort out all the Sams on the crew, they started calling me "Idaho." And then that eventually turned into "Joe Idaho," which is kind of like John Doe, I guess. Kinda like an alias.

And then later on when I started publishing, I found there were many authors out there with the name Sam or Samuel Smith. They're two pretty common names. And when I first published my book under Samuel Smith, another author named Samuel Smith claimed it on Amazon.

Emma: Oh.

Samuel: And it actually took me a couple weeks to get it transferred back to my author account. And then the third and final, probably most important reason why I write as Joe Idaho is because I've always had a love for Idaho's stories. With Idaho's popularity on the rise, I decided to write a set of novels based on Idaho's history, folklore, and culture. So all of my books feature Idaho themes and characters. I call it "Gem State Based Fiction."

Emma: How did you go from doing field archaeology to being a writer? Or in other words, why do you write?

Samuel: So how I transitioned into being an author is... I should probably tell you about a little about my background.

Since I was a kid, I've been extremely interested in two things, the past and storytelling. So I spent my early years on a farm. I'd call it a time capsule farm. We lived in the farmhouse my great-great-grandfather built, and my family, they never threw anything away. They kept everything and tried to get as much use out of things as they could. It was like living in a museum. Everything from a hundred years ago was still on the farm, from the wagons, hitching posts, and barns outside to the wooden crank telephone and cast iron clawfoot tub and stove on the inside. And on the farm, we didn't get good TV reception, so we read a lot, and we told stories. My mom and my grandma in particular read and told me a lot of stories. Growing up in that environment naturally led me to archaeology and storytelling, archaeology being storytelling about the past.

But I got into writing during the pandemic. During the pandemic, I was stuck at home a lot. My wife, Chris, she's a COVID nurse, and she challenged me to actually start publishing these stories that I'd always worked on throughout all my life and just had imposter syndrome, fear of rejection. And so I decided to just go for it, and I've been writing and publishing ever since. And I still do archaeology on and off, but I'm also a stay-at-home dad, and so it kinda makes that hard. But writing, I can do from home more easily.

Emma: That is fascinating. That's such a real thing, the imposter syndrome. Even as you're writing, it's scary thinking, is anyone ever gonna wanna read this? And then publishing and getting out there is even scarier. So well done. That's impressive.

Samuel: Thank you.

Emma: Tell me about your characters that you write.

Samuel: You know, characters are the heart of any story, aren't they? And as Joe Idaho, my characters are deeply influenced by the people I've met throughout my life in the Gem State. I've worked on farms, lumberyards, and construction. I was a high school English teacher for four years, and I've spent years in academia in the field working along archaeologists and scientists. I've met a lot of rugged and refined characters.

I'm always surprised by people. Some of the more coarse people I've encountered had doctorate degrees, and some of the most cultured barely made it past the eighth grade. That range of experience helped me create characters who feel authentic and dynamic. My process starts with the idea that characters, like real people, exist on a broad spectrum. They're rarely one thing. I focus on layering traits, quirks, and complexities to make my characters as real and relatable as possible.

One of my favorite characters to create and develop was Teddy Roosevelt. When I was a kid, Teddy Roosevelt was this legendary figure, a superhero. But as I got older and learned more about him, the more human he became. When writing the book, I wanted to capture his legendary boldness and adventurous spirit, but also delve into the vulnerability, struggles, and flaws that made him human. To me, Teddy Roosevelt's life embodied that blend of rugged grit and intellectual curiosity that I've seen in so many people here in Idaho. Making him into a fictional character was a way to create a truly dynamic individual.

Emma: When I was looking at your website, then it seemed like you had a lot of stories with a lot of different characters who have a lot of different motivations and goals. So do you have any tips for weaving together character arcs?

Samuel: You know, that's an interesting topic to explore. In my stories, I strive to make character arcs count and interconnected. Whether a character changes for the worse or better or remains the same throughout, I like to weave their arc together with the other characters so their journey feels connected, and their relationships keep the story moving. Some tips I have for weaving together character arcs are focus on shared goals and conflicts. Make sure your characters aren't just doing their own thing in isolation. Have them clash or collaborate over common objectives, and use those moments to build tension and connection or separation.

Show gradual change. Character development doesn't have to be a massive dramatic shift all at once. Small, meaningful changes in their perspectives or actions throughout the story are what make their journeys feel real and satisfying.

And embrace the power of static characters. Characters without an arc can still play a vital role in the story. Their steadfast nature, whether intentional or a flaw, can highlight the growth of other characters. Use their lack of change as a mirror, contrast, or catalyst to push the others towards transformation. For instance, a mentor who never strays from their values might inspire a protagonist to find their own path, or a static antagonist might force others to evolve in order to overcome them. And, of course, bring it all together at the climax when all these arcs collide for that big impactful resolution. That's what keeps me hooked when I read a story.

Emma: I liked what you're saying about interaction, because if characters don't talk to each other or do anything, it just... yeah, it makes a really boring story. I was watching a show once, and the first season was really good. But then by the time we got to the fourth season, none of the main characters even talked to each other. They had built up all these relationships and suddenly it's like in the fourth season they just forgot. And they just never interacted, and it was so boring. So I like that a lot. So with the interaction, that kind of creates conflict—not always, but often—between characters. How do you develop conflict between characters and then let this conflict reveal and develop your characters?

Samuel: Character conflict is another topic I love exploring.

Developing conflict between characters comes naturally for me when I understand who they are at their core. I focus on creating characters that are complex and shaped by their backgrounds and experiences. Conflict arises when these characters' desires, values, or beliefs clash, which ultimately reveals deeper layers of who they are. I try to use conflict as a tool to highlight characters' contradictions, whether it's a rugged character showing unexpected vulnerability or a refined one being forced to confront their own moral complexities. The key for me is to make sure that conflict is rooted in something that is authentic, that it's a reflection of the character's journey.

Emma: So, the first book of yours that I saw was Teddy Roosevelt's Goblin, a Bigfoot story. What inspired this story?

Samuel: That's another great question, and I get asked it quite a lot. So I was inspired to write this book back in high school, actually. My English teacher knew I was really into Teddy Roosevelt and really into hunting. So they found me a copy of Roosevelt's book, The Wilderness Hunter, which was published in, I think, 1893. The book describes a variety of hunts Roosevelt went on out West. It also contains what many people consider an early Bigfoot story. While reading it, I came across the story and was very intrigued. In his travels out west, Teddy Roosevelt encountered an old mountain man named Bauman who told him a tale of what he called a goblin. This goblin attacked old Bauman and his trapping companions somewhere on the border of what is now Montana and Idaho.

Roosevelt wasn't a believer in goblins or monsters, but the mountain man's story impressed him so much that he recorded the tale in The Wilderness Hunter. This story always stuck with me because here you have this very pragmatic and practical character in Roosevelt who took interest in what I would call a Bigfoot story. I wrote an essay on it for my teacher, and twenty years later, that turned into the book. I tried to imagine what would happen if Teddy Roosevelt encountered something he couldn't explain on one of his hunting trips. How would he react? What would he do if he met Bauman's goblin?

And as far as research goes, I research books the same way I do historical and archaeological investigation, so I try to find primary sources to work with or firsthand accounts. But as an author, I try to adapt them into something new and something different. For this book, I researched Teddy Roosevelt's journeys out west both from his perspective and from those who met him. One interesting thing I found during my research was a newspaper dispatch from a correspondent who ran into Teddy out west. The correspondent described Roosevelt as "a pale, slim young man with a thin, piping voice and a general look of disparity about him, boyish-looking, with a slight lisp, short red mustache, and eyeglasses. A typical New York City dude." I also found out that Teddy Roosevelt spent some time in North Idaho hunting caribou and used that to connect my Joe Idaho theme of stories about Idaho.

My background in archaeology really helped when researching this story. As an archaeologist, I had to know the technology of the past and how it was used to live. My first project after college was a survey of the Old Oregon Trail here in Idaho, so I had to become familiar with horses, oxens, wagons, campfires, everything associated with traveling in the nineteenth century. This really came in handy when writing the book.

In addition to primary sources in my background in archaeology, I try to get some field work in to get some firsthand experiences of what I'm writing about. I was living in North Idaho at the time I started working on the book, and so I traveled to the mountains Roosevelt hunted. I hiked some of the same trails he might have taken over a hundred years ago. I tried to get into the woods as far as I could to familiarize myself with the sounds of nature, the animals, the plants, the geology, the water, the wind. All of my research for the book came together as a reflection of my love for history, the wild landscapes of Idaho, and the enduring allure of a great campfire story.

Emma: You didn't find any signs of Bigfoot when you were out in the forest?

Samuel: I did get startled by a moose. I will say that. I ended up on the same trail as a bull moose, and I didn't actually get close enough to see him, but, yes, I was kinda scared for a minute till I realized what I was encountering.

Emma: That would spook me. Those things are big.

Samuel: Yeah, they're huge.

Emma: Well, would you be willing to read some of your book to us today?

Samuel: Sure. So to set the scene here, this part of the story takes place... There's a character named EW, and he's talking to his friend Old Bauman, who used to be a mountain man. And he's asking old Bauman if he can help him track down on the lead of where to get some work as a teamster, and a teamster was someone who hauled supplies in a wagon.

Old Bauman drinks the last of his whiskey and then peers into the empty cup. He gets lost in thought briefly before saying, “Wish I had a better trail t’ send ye on—take a look at de fella sittin’ over dere at de bar.”

EW turns to look upon the man as Old Bauman continues, “I heard dat fancy buster askin’ ‘round if dere was a body in town with a wagon an’ a knowledge o’ de Selkurks who’d take him an’ some other fellers huntin’ come mornin’. He said he’d pay good cash money just t’ take him up de Old Kutenai an’ haul out what he shoots. De feller didn’t have no takers fer what I know.”

EW inspects the strange man sitting by himself at the end of the bar. He hadn’t noticed him from the doorway perched on a stool behind the large iron stove. This stranger holds a cup of coffee in one hand and a half-folded newspaper in the other. He reads intently beneath the flickering glow of the kerosene lantern attached to the wall. The man appears entirely out of place compared to anyone EW has ever seen in the Elkhorn. The plowman thinks for a moment that Old Bauman might be having some fun with him. The old codger has been known to pull a leg. The stranger looks boyish, but EW estimates he is in his early thirties. He is below average in height and build, lean but sinewy. His hair is short and reddish brown. It rolls over his brow in a gentle wave. A bristly and broomlike mustache covers his upper lip. He wears thick circular glasses set in thin wireframes.

His clothes and weapons set this stranger apart from anyone in the Elkhorn or the greater Idaho Territory. A black bear fur cap sits on the bar between his coffee and newspaper. A blue silk bandana is tied around his neck in a simple bow. He wears a fringed buckskin frock that, upon standing, would reach short of mid-thigh. Two rows of shiny brass buttons, traced by more fringe work, run down its front. Matching buckskin pants and tall alligator-skin riding boots protect his legs and feet. EW can see the pearl grip of a custom-made Colt and the solid silver handle of a buck knife sticking out from his belt. The weapons are finer and fancier than any the plowman
has ever encountered.

Sipping his coffee, EW weighs whether or not he should approach the stranger. From the looks of his expensive rig, this eastern dude will pay just about any price for a real western adventure. The pilgrim probably wants to go up the trail and shoot a bear, elk, or moose so he can go back home and boast to his friends. EW would be happy to oblige. Easy money for once. He also reckons if this buckskin-clad greenhorn gives out early on the trail, he can always be charged a cancellation fee for the trouble.

Though the part-time teamster sees some profit to be made, this stranger might be more trouble than he is worth. The Selkurks are a hard scrape, even for the most robust. EW would not want to be held responsible should anything happen.

While EW contemplates, a giant, menacing, black-haired, red-bearded lumberjack approaches the bar. He growls at Henry in a contentious tone, “Bring me whiskey! And be quick with it!” As he waits, the drunk lumberjack notices the stranger at his side. He slowly looks the easterner over. His dead eyes fix upon the cup of coffee in the stranger’s hand. He stares for several seconds before turning back to the bar. The lumberjack shakes a raised thumb in the stranger’s direction and says, “Brang t’is dude a whiskey. We can’t have t’is four-eyed fop drankin’ coffee whilst amongst workin’ men.”

Over at their table, EW asks, “You know that big one over there next to the stranger?”

Old Bauman squints hard and says, “Yip, I know him, alright. He’s a lout if ever dere were one. Dat tenderfoot ‘ill wish he’d stay’d ‘ome.”

Back at the bar, the stranger looks up from his paper. He grins wide at the lumberjack, showing his top row of teeth. With a slightly piping voice, the stranger politely refuses, “Thank you. I am very appreciative—but I am abstaining from drink at the moment.” The stranger nods and toasts the lumberjack with his coffee. “If I may, I shall be pleased to remain here in your good company with just my coffee and newspaper at hand.” Trying to end the interaction, he returns to his newspaper.

The lumberjack’s face becomes red in the same hue as his flannel shirt. “Who do ya think ya are? I offered ya whiskey, and you’ll ‘ave it!”

Just then, Henry places a fresh bottle on the bar. He tries to distract the lumberjack, “Let him alone, Liam. You can have this next one on me.”

Completely ignoring Henry, the lumberjack puffs up his enormous chest and moves close to the stranger. He towers over the seated man like a grizzly would over a black bear. Remaining silent, the stranger slowly pivots from his paper. He looks up and directly into the lumberjack’s eyes without a sign of fear. The lumberjack returns the stare as they lock wills to each have their way.

From behind the bar, Henry tries again in vain, “Nobody wants trouble. I’ll set it up for you.”

Still completely fixed on the stranger, the black-haired, red-bearded lumberjack retorts, “This four-eyed pimple rider ‘ill drink—or I’ll toss ‘im inta the street wit’ the other geeks.”

Never taking his eyes off Liam, the stranger removes his glasses and places them on the bar. His voice no longer pipes. He speaks slowly with abject determination, “I will tell you again—and for the final time, sir. I will not have a drink of whiskey.” His eyes still locked with the lumberjack, the stranger takes a slow, defiant sip of his coffee and then places the cup back on the bar.

This response pushes the lumberjack over the edge. Liam has never encountered a miner, logger, or buckaroo with the salt to stand up to him—let alone some eastern clotheshorse dressed like Davy Crockett. His face becomes darker red, almost purple. Liam breaks out into a slew of nearly unrecognizable profanity, most of which focuses upon the stranger’s cup of coffee and his glasses.

The stranger remains silent and resolute throughout the tirade.

His rant complete, the lumberjack says, “Nobody refuses to drink with Big Liam Miller. If ya won’t drink—then you’re gonna treat four—eyes.” Liam slams the palm of his hand hard on the bar, SMACK!

“Henry, give ‘im the bottle and a glass.”

Trying to give the easterner a way out, Henry puts the bottle and the glass between the two men. Neither man budges.

The stranger’s bullheadedness completely and utterly frustrates the lumberjack. Liam knows he can whip anybody in the Elkhorn, and this little easterner should know it too. He will teach the stranger a lesson for wearing buckskins and a gun in his town. This coffee drinker is going to pay for and pour the lumberjack’s next drink.

Liam places his large hairy hand on the handle of the gun strapped to his hip, then clumsily cocks the hammer. His finger slides into the trigger guard. He uses his free hand to keep himself propped up at the bar. Liam moves in closer to the stranger until their noses almost touch.

The stranger’s eyes dart to the gun, then back to Liam’s face.

The lumberjack slowly repeats his demand, “You hear me four—eyes? I said set me up. I ain’t gonna ask again.”

The stranger speaks with defeat in his voice, “Well. If I’ve got to—I’ve got to.” He moves his left hand toward the bottle.

All of Liam’s attention transfers to the whiskey bottle on the bar. A crooked grin curls at one edge of his mouth. He knew the little easterner didn’t have it in him to fight back, and now the real fun can begin. Liam will have this stranger doing a bullet dance in the street before the night is through.

As the stranger’s left hand is about to clasp the whiskey bottle, his right hand falls to his side and clenches into a tight fist. Faster than a lightning flash, the stranger throws a quick right hook that catches Liam on the left side of his chin, twisting his head around. A short, hard uppercut rising from his left fist at the bottle follows. It slams into the bottom of Liam’s jaw, smashing his teeth together. These sudden strikes send the drunken lumberjack stumbling back on his heels, giving the stranger room to stand.

Fully standing and straightening out, the stranger delivers a powerful right cross with all his force that seems to pass straight through the lumberjack’s head with no resistance. The blow folds the lumberjack’s head backward, his knees buckle under him, and his large body follows. As Liam goes down, his head hits hard upon the brass bottom rail running the length of the bar. At the same time, his gun goes off with a loud, BANG!

The bullet tears through Liam’s holster, singeing his leg, then burrows itself into the wood plank floor next to the stranger’s foot. The gunshot quiets the room. Everyone in the Elkhorn not already watching turns their attention to see what happened. The buckskin-clad stranger takes the lumberjack’s gun and places it on the bar. Henry removes it from sight.

The stranger brushes off his shoulders and then straightens his hunting frock. Standing over the fallen lumberjack, he speaks sternly and loud enough for all to hear. His slightly high-pitched eastern accent fills the room, “Someone get this man up and take him to wash his face.”

Emma: Wow. That is a great example of escalation of tension in the scene. And I love how you're introducing the character of Teddy Roosevelt through the eyes of EW, the other character. That's really cool.

Samuel: Yeah. I really enjoyed that scene. It's—like a lot of things I write about, it's based on something that supposedly happened to Teddy Roosevelt in South Dakota. When he came out west, they would call him names like tenderfoot, greenhorn... because it was pretty obvious that he was from back east. And a drunk cowboy, yeah, came into the bar, tried to make him drink, and he refused to. And out of nowhere, everyone said he punched the guy and knocked out the local bully. And so I tried to incorporate that story into the goblin book.

Emma: Yeah. I was going to ask, too, about the language that they use. Was that another thing that you researched for, how to talk in the time period with the region?

Samuel: Yeah. So as an archaeologist, when I was working on the Oregon Trail, one of the things that we had to do in that project is—it's not so much of a requirement, but it's something the BLM had us do, was they had us read a book they put together that contains every firsthand account of people who traveled on the Oregon Trail, and so I pulled a lot of the vernacular out of that.

I also pulled a lot of vernacular from... there's several websites that focus just on mountain man speech, Old West speech, and they're thoroughly researched. And so I drew from those resources to try to make it as authentic as I could, I guess, I'd say.

Emma: And they really say dude?

Samuel: Yeah. That was one that I always thought that was maybe a misconception from our time, but that would come up a lot, yeah. They would call people a dude.

Emma: That is so funny that that still has stuck around. People still call people dude.

Samuel: Yeah.

Emma: But it sounds a little more insulting in the way that they used it.

Samuel: Yeah. Back then, it would be used in a very pejorative way.

Emma: I see. Well, that is fascinating. Thank you so much for coming in today and for sharing your story.

Samuel: Yeah. Thank you for having me. It was great.

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