Welcome to Jane Little Botkin

Welcome to Jane Little Botkin

Having scoured the West for firsthand sources in family, library, and museum collections, award-winning author Jane Little Botkin melds personal narratives of American families with compelling stories of women, miners, lawmen, and outlaws in settings rich with a history that transitions into the New West.

Welcome to Jane Little Botkin

Having scoured the West for firsthand sources in family, library, and museum collections, award-winning author Jane Little Botkin melds personal narratives of American families with compelling stories of western women, labor radicals, miners, lawmen, and outlaws in settings rich with a history that transitions into the New West.

Jane is currently researching for her new biographies--The Breath of a Buffalo about Mary Ann Goodnight and Hank Boedeker, Lawman and Friend of Butch Cassidy. Check here for updates.

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New!

“An engaging time capsule of trendsetting southwestern beauty pageantry. . . . . A revealing look behind the glamour and illusion of beauty queens.” Kirkus Reviews

How a texas Girl became the first Guyrex Girl

Coming September 10, 2024!

Pre-order Now at Your Favorite Bookseller!

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Keep checking for upcoming fall book tour information in Events!

Email Jane if you want her to speak to your group. She loves book clubs and historical societies!

Current Conversations

An icon of a man riding a horse on a white background

Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys

I email Bump Boedeker’s bronc image to Sarah. I hope the new discovery peaks her interest in her heritage. Cowboys may not impress her much; after all, she is a Wyoming girl where Steamboat is imprinted on everything except the state flag. (Steamboat is Wyoming’s ubiquitous bucking bronc logo.) And like my son, she attended…

A bump Boedeker black and white photo

Bump Boedeker, Ride “‘Em, Cowboy!”

Taking care of a dying person is draining, but I can fend off depression by concentrating on the Boedeker family. This tack triggers another realization, adding guilt to my panoply of emotions. I realize that I am a voyeur, my mind’s eye loupe is peering into their lives without permission. Should I tell Sarah? I…