The Twelve Days of Thanksgiving: Day Ten
At one point on my winding path, I taught Middle School English. I've always felt that there were many similarities to being an English teacher and being an editor--both jobs are essentially about helping people find their strongest voice as a writer. You just get the writers at different points in their own journeys. Although one group is just discovering ways to express themselves in words and the other has decided to make a career or at least an avocation out of it, both groups demand the same understanding, both need to be listened to with equal sensitivity in order to trust that an editor/teacher person really gets what they are saying and will be able to bring their writing consistently up to its highest level.
After that major philosophical similarity, though, the two jobs diverge. And each has its own perks. For one thing, authors tend to smell better than sixth graders. They don't need to be told not to run in the halls. And you can have a beer with them.
I love being editorial director at Bright Sky Press, and I love the process of watching a book emerge from a conversation, rough notes, or a preliminary manuscript. There is great joy in watching someone pick up a book I've worked on and respond to it with genuine enthusiasm, or in seeing a familiar jacket peek at me off the bookstore shelf, an old friend waving "Hi!"
But I still miss teaching. One thing that was particularly memorable at the school where I taught was the annual Big Bend trip. The entire eighth grade, one hundred plus kids, a couple of dozen teachers and some doctors for good measure would pack it down the road for a week of hiking and camping in Texas' remote natural wonderland.
It was an unforgettable experience, and I was lucky enough to go five times. Each time I would sign up to lead different hikes, so I got a good perspective on the park. It is a magnificent place--filled with mesas and mountains, fabulous flora and fauna, and a solitude so rich it leaves you completely satisfied with just being there, never lonely or overwhelmed. The first time I entered the park, I was surprised that something so geologically profound could exist in the same state as Houston.
On those trips, occasional moments of perfectly backlit transformative Natural Beauty would capture my attention. I never had a camera right when I needed it, and if I did, the pictures never seemed to do justice to the memory. But now it doesn't matter.
We have just published a book that is every wondrous Big Bend moment I ever had on steroids. Mike Marvins, a fourth generation professional photographer, has been going to the Big Bend area of Texas for thirty years. He has criss-crossed the magnificent wilderness on foot, on horseback, and by car. He has gone alone, with his family, with groups of Boy Scouts. His intimate knowledge and love of the region combined with his ability to use a variety of cameras and photographic techniques allow him to memorialize the fleeting moments of beauty that most of us only hope to catch a glimpse of once or twice, if we are lucky.
Texas' Big Bend: A Photographic Adventure from the Pecos to the Rio Grande is MIke's gift to anyone who has ever been to the region, anyone who has ever dreamed of spending time out of time there, and anyone who just loves great outdoor photography. And he did it all to raise funds for groups that support the National Park and the State Ranch.
I miss teaching sixth graders; I miss my annual trip to Big Bend. But I am thankful that Mike's amazing book both brings back those memories for me and inspires me to unplug my family and head down the road to Marathon. His gift for photography presents an incredible corner of our country in a format that actually does it justice. Like a talented editor, he presents the Big Bend region in a way that lets it speak clearly for itself, transporting us there--physically and metaphorically, vicariously or down memory lane.
My trails have lead me back to a place I love. How fine to see it with new eyes.
Thanksgiving Tip #10 A beautiful coffee table book featuring a rugged outdoor spot is the perfect tip off to visitors that you are truly a well rounded, perhaps even Renaissance, person. A KIndle on your coffee table might just make it look like you forgot to clean up.
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.
Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.
The winds will blow their own freshness into you...
while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.
~John Muir
