Should the Tent Be Burning Like That?

Praise for Should the Tent Be Burning Like That?: Readers don't have to hunt or fish to appreciate Mr. Heavey's essays, which . . . are more complicated than they first appear. The title of his book evokes the knee-slapping comedy of the campfire, a promise that his peculiar brand of farce frequently fulfills. But he also displays a gift for the sublime.Danny Heitman, Wall Street Journal The traditional hook-and-bullet story involves an angler or a hunter, a measure of expertise, and the pursuit of fish or game. By story's end the author is usually describing landed fish or downed prey, and has rewarded readers along the way with field tips and knowledge. Bill Heavey takes a different approach, dispensing with the expertise and instead rewarding readers with madcap storytelling, laughter, commiserative cringing, but most of all a manic and contagious enthusiasm. Should the Tent Be Burning Like That? A Professional Amateur's Guide to the Outdoors is Heavey's latest miscellany, gathering many of his columns from Field & Stream, and whether crashing a houseboat in Florida or salving a bout of melancholy with some worm fishing, Heavey is absurdly great company throughout."Garden & Gun This new book is a collection of the best columns Bill has done for Field & Stream (and a few other publications) in the last few years, which is to say that it's as good as anything anyone has written in any publication about anything. Give the Devil his due; Bill Heavey has a way with words . . . [He] inhabits a world [that] consists of animals and fish that are much better at surviving than he is at killing them; hostile, malfunctioning inanimate objects; incomprehensible written directions; doe pee that refuses to stay bottled; human folly, rain, sleet, wind, bad luck, no luck at all and, because he is now in his 60s, when your friends start dying in earnest, sorrow, pain, and loss. The secret to Bill's success was laid bare at a speech he gave . . . to a club comprised of hypercompetitive hunters and fishermen in their 30s and 40s and 50s, all of whom are very successful in life and in their chosen sports . . . They loved him because all of them, who compete against fellow club members, and themselves, and game animals and fish, and Nature, had been defeated time and time again, sometimes ignominiously. And they persist, as does Bill. That is a Great Truth, and is the theme that runs through this book. As Hugh Glass said in The Revenant, As long as you can pull a breath, you fight. I trust Mr. Heavey will continue to milk it for all it's worth.David E. Petzal, The Gun Nuts, Field & Stream As a writer for Field and Stream, Bill Heavey has been able to connect with hunters, anglers and those who appreciate the great outdoors by sharing an honest perspective of his experiences. In an industry fueled by ego, Heavy's writing style is far less serious, and focused on sharing his very own brand of comical failures with his readers.Outdoor Hub, 5 Reading Picks for the Hunter/Angler/Hiker/Camper Long-time outdoor magazine columnist Bill Heavey's latest collection of tales, Should the Tent be Burning Like That, will have you laughing and learning into the wee hours [with] humor and practical advice on fatherhood and parenting, deer urine, yardwork, chasing steelheads, literature, mystical turkeys, friendship, surf casting and helplessly falling in love . . . Your indoors outdoorsman will keep it on his bedstand for a long, long, time.C.F. Foster, Florida Times Union

Préface
Targeted outreach to outdoor media
online reviews and features
online promotion (www.billheavey.com)

Auteur
Bill Heavey is an editor-at-large for Field & Stream and the author of three previous books: You're Not Lost if You Can Still See the Truck; If you Didn't Bring Jerky, What Did I Just Eat?; and It's Only Slow Food Until You Try to Eat It. His work has appeared in numerous publications, including Men's Journal, Outside, Washington Post, New York Times Magazine, and Los Angeles Times. He lives in Maryland.

Texte du rabat

From a celebrated writer on the outdoors, hilarious stories about the joys and pitfalls of hunting, fishing, family, and adventure

Échantillon de lecture
We descended into the deep ravine and climbed up the other side. It was getting late. We were walking along a flat, brushy hilltop, looking for birds, when Budz grabbed my arm. The toms, 20 yards ahead of us and just coming into view, had no idea we were there. Shoot! Budz said. Then he pleaded, Please shoot those turkeys!

I shouldered the gun and realized I had two red heads lined up perfectly in my sights. The world slowed. Even I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But whoever had commandeered my body decided that it was a good time to practice flinching. My shot hit the ground 10 yards in front and 10 yards to the left of the birds. Hevi-Shot, incidentally, is devastating on dirt, at least in South Dakota. The turkeys spread their wings languidly and glided down the long hill we'd just scaled, back into the thick woods.

Budz said nothing and walked off a few yards to be by himself. He was facing away from me. His head and torso were bobbing rhythmically, like a man banging his head against an imaginary wall. It reminded me of the TV footage you see of people at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. A strange thought coursed through my brain. Maybe they'll put up a Wailing Wall in South Dakota in my honor.

The bobsled run was over for the day. I had just medaled in the Loser Olympics. I felt for Budz. He had done nothing for the past 15 hours but try to spoon-feed me chip shots at wild turkeys. My only part in all this was to aim a stick at the birds and then move my right index finger. That, obviously, had proved too complex a task.