The Poacher's Son has crossed the border. In today's Globe and Mail (Canada's newspaper of record and its largest circulation national paper), Margaret Cannon writes:
This is one of the best debut novels I’ve ever read. Doiron, a licensed wilderness guide and editor-in-chief of Down East: The Magazine of Maine, has put unforgettable characters into a gorgeous setting and does it all with a lovely, liquid prose style that I found irresistible....
The plotline where the investigator has to save a relative is an oldie, but Doiron’s style and setting give it new life....Doiron is definitely a writer to watch.
Even though working with words is what I do, I'm having trouble expressing the gratitude I feel for reviews like this one.
Oline Cogdill, who writes for the OrlandoSun Sentinel and whose book reviews are syndicated in more than 250 newspapers, reads hundreds of new mysteries a year. Here's her take on The Poacher's Son:
Paul Doiron makes an outstanding gripping debut in The Poacher's Son. Doiron's rich exploration of characters shows people at their best and worst...Doiron, editor-in-chief of Down East magazine, showcases his native Maine's beauty and how the pristine woods are giving way to developers. Doiron skillfully melds an outdoor adventure with a personal story of families. The Poacher's Son moves at a brisk pace with unpredictable but realistic twists that reach a crescendo at the shocking finale. The Poacher's Son is proving to be one of the best debuts of the year.
After months of anticipation, I celebrated the official launch of The Poacher's Son with a fantastic party at the home of New York Times bestselling author Tess Gerritsen and her husband Jake overlooking Penobscot Bay. The house was packed, and my local independent bookseller, The Owl & Turtle Bookshop, sold more than 100 copies of the novel.
Next comes a busy schedule of readings and signings that start in Portland, Maine, on Friday and take me to the American Library Association conference in Washington, D.C. in late June—and perhaps even farther afield as more events get added to the calendar.
All the more reason to take a moment and appreciate the fulfillment of my life's dream. I couldn't have asked for a better party or a better group of friends to help me celebrate.
In The Poacher's Son I have several characters who casually toss about some of my state's more colorful expressions. Retired Warden Service Chief Pilot Charley Stevens especially has a masterful command of the Maine idiom. Since my novel doesn't contain a supplementary glossary of regional expressions, I figured I should occasionally use this blog to clarify and explain what the hell these cussed* people are saying to my out-of-state readers. This term didn't make it into the final draft, I just happen to love it because of its sweet perfection.
TOOTH CARPENTER: a Maine dentist, especially one working in an upcountry town.
Update on 2010-05-09 11:35 by Paul Doiron
*CUSSED: A contraction of "cursed," but used in a familiar and genial manner; when applied to a person it usually signifies an obstinate but not altogether unpleasant individual.
I'm not giving anything away to admit that one of the themes of The Poacher's Son is loss—loss of relationships, loss of trust, loss of heritage and wilderness. Reflecting on the enormous changes taking place in the Maine North Woods persuaded me that it might add a poignant note to the book to set the second half of the story in two of Maine's ghost towns. As I write in the "Author's Note":
Many of the places in this story don’t exist on the map of Maine (at least not under the names I have given them), but two important exceptions are the townships of Flagstaff and Dead River. In 1950 the Central Maine Power Company built a dam at Long Falls and flooded the Dead River valley northwest of the Bigelow Mountains. Flagstaff and Dead River are gone, but sometimes, when the water is low on Flagstaff Lake, you can take a boat out and peer down at the ruins of what were once two vibrant North Woods villages. To anyone interested in learning more about these lost towns I recommend There Was a Land, published by the helpful people of the Dead River Historical Society. I hope that the survivors of Flagstaff and Dead River will see my decision to set this story in their vanished communities as an effort to keep their fading memories alive.
It turns out that I got a fact wrong here: There Was a Land was published by the Flagstaff Memorial Chapel Association, but it is distributed by the Dead River Historical Society, and if you are ever in the town of Eustis, Maine, I encourage you to pay their small museum a visit.
Maine musician Slaid Cleaves also wrote a song called "Below" about the flooding of Dead River and Flagstaff for his 2004 album Wishbones. Here's the video:
It's almost inconceivable today that a Maine town (let alone two) could be erased from the landscape by a single powerful corporation, but I suppose you should never say never.
