Bambi Was a Maine Deer

OK, he was a German red deer first. But the Bambi that the world knows and loves—friend to Thumper, wooer of Faline—was actually a white-tailed deer from Baxter State Park in Maine, as this article in the world's best magazine proves definitely.

PS. Among hunters, Walt Disney's Bambi is the most hated movie ever because they blame it for transforming what had formerly been a socially accepted pastime into a perceived bloodsport pursued only by closeted homicides. My own take is: Bambi isn't all that pernicious (man does enter the forest, after all), but anthropomorphizing animals is naive and an expression of humanity's abiding narcissism. Also, most of the hunters I've known are highly moral people who are far less likely to inflict violence on other human beings than the urbanized Major Nidal Hasans and Seung-Hui Chos of the world.

What Michael Pollan Hath Wrought

Hunting has been on the decline throughout the U.S. for a while, but in today's New York Times, Sean Patrick Farrell has a story asserting that there's a grassroots movement of urban and suburban gourmets picking up rifles to harvest their own venison:

Some American chefs who grew up with rifles in their hands have long been passionate about wild game, even if the law forbids them from serving it in their restaurants. The subject has also been taken up recently by the writers Michael Pollan, who shoots a wild boar in “The Omnivore’s Dilemma,” and Steven Rinella, who chronicled his quest to kill a wild American bison in “American Buffalo.” But until recently, tree stands and Mossy Oak camouflage were rarely mentioned in the same breath as, say, heirloom tomatoes.

Anthony Licata, editor of Field & Stream magazine, said he wasn’t surprised that a new generation of eaters was discovering what traditional hunters have known all along: “There’s nothing more organic and free range than meat you hunt for yourself and your family,” he said.

 Like Jack Shafer over at Slate, I'm always suspicious of Times "trend" stories, but as someone who hunts without apology and believes it offers the best way of managing animal populations in human-occupied landscapes, I hope Farrell has discovered something real here.

Kill Your Darlings

Faulkner famously remarked that "in writing, you must kill your darlings." By this I've taken him to mean that the things we are proudest of in our stories—the perfect metaphors, the exquisite scenes—might indeed by expressions of artistry, but mostly they are just distractions to the reader. As writers we are often accurate judges of our work, but not always so, which is yet another reason we need editors. I'm dealing with this now as I undertake a revision of my second novel. My editor has marked up a few of my darlings, and now I must decide whether I have the guts to do away with them.

Book Trailers, Yea or Nay?

For a while I've been flirting with the idea of creating a book trailer for The Poacher's Son: you know, a little video to add to the homepage and upload to YouTube. But I've been of two minds. Part of me says, "Hey, we live in a multimedia age, and I'd rather be the amphibian that adapts than the trilobite that doesn't." The other part of me says, "Why are you dwelling on these things and not working on your new book?" For the moment, this essay by Troy Patterson on Slate has tipped me into the no trailer camp.

The Importance of Editing

I haven't read any of Dan Baum's books, but I've enjoyed his magazine journalism for years and the man has a natural talent for writing online. His account of being fired from the New Yorker done as a series of Twitter tweets is a ground-breaking experiement in the form.

I also like what he has to say about the importance of editing for writers. As an editor by trade myself, I like to believe I contribute a thimbulful of worth to the universe, but beyond that, I've seen countless editorial examples of bad pieces rescued, good pieces made better, and great pieces left alone, all of which convince me that writers desperately need someone to keep them honest. Nearly 100 percent of the unedited writing on the Internets — including this blog — cements my case.

In my own professional experience the worst writers are the ones least amenable to editing, although occasionally some very good freelancers will also fight you for every comma; it's difficult to generalize. But if I may play Dr. Phil for a moment (read the next section to yourself in a Texas drawl), I would say that if you're a young editor and dealing with a new writer for the first time and that person has started issuing ultimatums before you've made a single proofreading mark, you probably don't want to throw yourself into a long-term professional relationship.

So I recommend and endorse what Baum has to say here about the important role editors have played in his professional life.

I'm dealing with this now on my second novel, which needs another run through the lathe. I must focus on submitting to the wisdom of my fine editor while the psycho writer part of myself wants to retreat behind his usual mud-and-wattle defenses.

P.S. That said, bad editors are horrible and should be avoided like H1N1. Unfortunately, you probably won't be able to recognize them until they have already begun their work disfiguring your professional reputation.