I’m ending this week early because The Daughter is making one last trip home before her second semester starts. The two of us are bugging out of town to soak up the sun ‘n fun in Palm Springs – Rancho Mirage, to be exact. So I decided to end my week with this review of Tackle Box.
I worried that posting it might sound like I’m being all horn-tooty, but I really believe this book is one of a kind because it’s based on my experiences of talking to authors just like you. You were the ones who told me what you wanted to learn and what information you had a hard time getting. So this really isn’t about me at all, but I do hope it’s okay if I feel just a bit gloaty here because, well, I worked awfully hard writing it.
This review has a particularly sweet note to it because the author, RL Sutton, and I have had our differences regarding publishing options. As much as we’ve vehemently disagreed, I have to hand it to him; he may have been angry at me, but he’s always come back to be a gentleman.
That he even bought my book was enough to have me ordering the beagle to retrieve my vapors. To receive a review had me mainlining the bottle of tequila I keep in my desk for emergencies. Wow. Thanks, RL, you’re a gent to the end.
When I was a little guy, maybe ten or so, my Dad came home one night with a small, plastic fold-over style tackle box. You know the kind, the one with the little image of a tied fly or a jumping trout on it? Well, anyway, I put my little spinners and lures and split-shot in there with my hook remover, a needle-nosed pliers, a knife and some oil for my reels. I was ready for everything and anything. It swung in my hand as I walked, my pride shining with every swing.
My Dad, on the other hand, had a HUGE, dovetail-joined wooden monstrosity in the garage with several sliding trays and compartments below. That was his tackle box. It was chewed up, gouged and to put it lightly, it stank. There were recesses beyond which I dared not venture until accompanied by his guidance. He was, after all, a semi-successful steelhead fisherman, and even if it took both hands to lift it into the trunk at the beginning of a 5AM fishing trip, it came along. Every time.
The reason I bring any of this up is that after delving into your Tackle Box, both in an orderly as well as a random manner, I’m convinced that you must have had my father’s tackle box in mind.
It is, by far, the most useful compilation of materials for writers who want to publish than I have ever had the pleasure to stumble upon — and I stumble a lot. You will save many of us from wasted pratfalls and melt-downs. If we’re not saved, at least we’ll be able to recognize the scenery as we pass it.
The best part, I’m finding out is it will be something that I’ll refer to again and again in the future.
As publishing morphs into it’s new forms, your careful, balanced analysis and encompassing interview questions will be the ground zero that all others should be building upon. Or some such superlative I haven’t thought of yet… Thanks again.
RL, you will never cease to amaze me. I humbly thank you for your kind words. I hope it’s a helpful tool to your future success.