
I wasn’t looking to read a book. My goal was to use books to gather information. But despite my best efforts I was turning page after page, laughing, and getting a lot more than fishing tips.
All thanks to John Gierach.
As a child I was a vociferous reader. Books assigned in school were merely speedbumps on a road paved with stacks of books checked out from the library. If the program hadn’t had a cap, I could have sustained myself on coupons earned from Pizza Hut’s Book It initiative. But as is often the case, childlike ambition was quickly crushed by the burdens of teenage years. And by burdens, I mean angst, girls, and a general 13-17 malaise. Those factors, along with the requisite forced reports which accompanied the few books that remained, stymied any last literary pursuits.









