First came the big Nor’easter, dumping 15 inches or more of wet heavy snow on western New York. Electric power went out locally on Thursday night and didn’t come back till Sunday, some 61 hours later. We had heat and springhouse water, so the situation wasn’t as rough as it could have been. Shoveling wet snow was the proverbial bear, and being off the grid, as interesting as that can be, outlasted the record set during the “Ice Storm” back in March of 1991. So, delivery of the book written by yours truly was like the sun of Sunday spreading its rays across the fulgent sky.
One aspect of the writing business that I’ve never particularly enjoyed or been much good at is self-promotion. Every once in a while, however, a new book or event comes along and I feel obligated to honk the horn of shameless merchandizing and to promote the literary fruit of a beleaguered mind and body.
Yes! Streamwalker’s Journey, Fishing the Triple Divide, is available at last. This 202-page volume is, according to my publisher at Wood Thrush Books (Vermont), “… a first-rate collection of fly-fishing essays…” This work, assembled from some of the strongest pieces of nature writing to be found in the six-year history of Rivertop Rambles (and elsewhere), focuses on the Triple Divide of watersheds in Pennsylvania and New York but includes a whole lot more.
The 16 chapters of my latest book include narratives entitled Where Rivers are Born; Brook Trout Basics; A Slate Run Odyssey; A Creek With Almost Everything; Self-Portrait of the Fisherman as Idler; Upper Kettle, Sunday; Blue Ridge Buffer; Water Dog; and The Cedar Run Experience. I’m proud of the tightly focused content with its wide-ranging excursions into fly-fishing, natural history, conservation efforts, and our human presence in the wild.
As Wood Thrush Books has announced, Streamwalker’s Journey is “… informal, thoughtful, interesting, funny, and at times wise. The passion comes through loud and clear.” The book can be ordered from Wood Thrush Books or Amazon Books (be sure to check out the new Amazon’s Walt Franklin Page) or you can order a copy from me directly via email, $14 ppd.
So there, I’ve said it, and I’m glad the book is available. If interested, please support small-press book publishing (and starving… nay, bone-dry trout bums) by ordering a copy soon. I thank you, like a wild trout released gently from an angler’s hand.