I Stand Corrected

One of the things I've learned in my magazine work is that it's nearly impossible to write for publication without making errors. Even The New Yorker with its stable of top-notch fact-checkers is forced to print corrections. While no one likes to make a mistake, the best journalists of my acquaintance appreciate having their errors identified. Better to set the record straight. 

Today I heard from a reader who noticed a couple of inaccuracies in The Poacher's Son:

At one point in "The Poacher's Son" you used the phrase "smell of gunpowder'" and I thought 'this is a writer who knows what he is writing about,' but then, when Mike shoots Truman Dellis with the shotgun, you write "The smell of cordite hung in the air."

Cordite is an obsolete British propellant and has not been manufactured since WWII.  I see this reference all the time in books, and even a CSI episode.  The only way one could smell it would be if very old ammunition was being used.  Look it up on Wikipedia.

You write that Mike ejected the magazine from Truman's bolt-action Remington 30-06.  Most Remington bolt-action rifles have either a box magazine that does not extend through the bottom of the stock (it is built-in) or a floorplate magazine where the floorplate, magazine spring, and follower plate swing down on a hinge, like a Winchester or a Mauser.  Very few Remington hunting rifles have a removable, ejectable magazine, although it is possible, and I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.

It is too bad Truman didn't have an Enfield .303, which does have a removable magzine and conceivably might be loaded with old cordite-filled cartridges.  But, it was the shotgun that killed him.

I hereby vow to stop watching CSI.

YouTube Book Review

Browsing the Internet is like being swept away by a current. You start in one place, and the next thing you know you've been pulled along by the tide and find yourself God-only-knows-where. That's how I happened to find the YouTube video below. To my knowledge it's the only video review of The Poacher's Son in existence thus far, and it's a good one!

I'm not sure why, but I think it's really cool that the Capital Area District Library in East Lansing, Michigan, does video book reviews. There's something subversive about exploiting YouTube to get people to read.

Rave Review from the Maine Sunday Telegram

The Maine Sunday Telegram is the largest newspaper in the state of Maine, and I'll admit that I've been awaiting its review of The Poacher's Son with some trepidation. Today, on the Fourth of July, I finally received a review, and it was fantastic. Lloyd Ferris's assessment of my book is one of the best yet, made sweeter by the fact that Ferris really knows Maine. Here's his take on my novel:

For one of the 10 least populated states, Maine has a surprising number of nationally known writers: Tess Gerritsen, Monica Wood and the ever-productive Stephen King among them. Paul Doiron may soon join that impressive field with his first novel, The Poacher's Son.

It's the story of a young Maine game warden trying to save his brawling, hard-drinking father who's accused of murdering two men. Fast-paced and believable, Doiron's book explores the murky depths of a father-son relationship played out in northern Maine's vanishing wilderness.

The Poacher's Son is refreshingly different. Written in the first person, the novel is narrated by its main character, persistent game warden Mike Bowditch. He's an argumentative man stubborn enough to drive off his [girlfriend] and try the patience of his warden supervisor, Kathy Frost. At the same time, readers know from the author's wonderfully stitched-together flashbacks that Mike's shortcomings come from a rough childhood spent in part with his angry, law-breaking father.

Instantly mesmerized, I was convinced (before encountering some unfamiliar place names) that the book was a nonfiction memoir of a Maine game warden with a most unusual life. It was that convincing.

A master of description, Doiron shines even in depicting minor characters. Early in the novel, for instance, he zeroes in on the Square Deal Diner "owned by a plump and hyperactive widow named Dot Libby who also ran a motel and gift shop out on the highway, served as chair of the school board, organized the municipal Fourth of July picnic, and played the organ every Sunday morning at the Congregational Church."

***

The Poacher's Son is a mystery in that it deals with murder and has a twisty plot leading to an unexpected end. But Doiron's book offers more than one finds in a typical mystery. The author's examination of traits passed from father to son is grist for thought, and his depiction of characters nothing less than terrific. You'll like this fine novel.

Winning the praise of the local critics is no small thing. I say that as someone who has written his share of tough-minded book reviews about novels that get Maine horribly wrong. I'm grateful that the Telegram believes I got Maine—and its people—right.

Reviews Rolling In

The Poacher's Son received two more great reviews over the past couple of weeks. 

First there's this from the Minneapolis Star Tribune:

When Bowditch's father becomes the main suspect in a deputy's death, Bowditch puts his career on the line to hunt for the killer, a quest that takes him deep into the forests of Maine and the heart of his dad's darkness. Doiron knows well the lay of the landscape he's writing about. The subtle parallels he draws between the beasts of the forest and the beasts within us are compelling.

I like that line about the "beasts within us," I have to say. ("Heart of his dad's darkness" is pretty good, too.)

The Provo Daily Herald also liked the book:

Even more than the action—which is intense—character and setting define this book. Northern Maine in the summertime is a felt presence in Doiron's finely-wrought text: the mosquitoes bite, the humidity cloys, the pines perfume the air, and seeable stars spatter the sky. The resolution of Mike's quest is as surprising as it is fitting, making The Poacher's Son not only great summer reading, but simply great reading.

It's been encouraging to hear from readers around the country—especially those unfamiliar with my state—who talk about the way my book transported them to the Maine North Woods since one of my primary goals in writing the novel was to express my love for the place. 

"An Icon of Maine"

The Capital Weekly newspaper in Augusta has a longish profile of me in today's edition. As a journalist, I've found being interviewed for my book to be an interesting (and probably healthy) experience. When you're a reporter, you listen for good quotes and try to make sense of everything you're hearing, and then you aim to translate the essence of your interview into print. When you're the subject of a profile, you realize how much gets lost in translation.