The best fly fishing gift...

...is the gift of literature.

Okay, that's BS. The best fly fishing gift is eight pounds of Steelhead, surely hooked, heading for the next time zone. Or perhaps large Browns slamming large dries. Or even a six inch Brookie grabbing a fly in a small stream. All good presents. Unfortunately, they're frightfully difficult to wrap.

But there is a gift, one of literature, that needs no wrapping. It's the latest volume of Pulp Fly. Pulp Fly, available in ebook formats, is "a platform for creative, adventurous writing – for those who believe good writing should contain as much potential for surprise as putting a fly on the water."

I have a submission in Volume Three. Lately I've been writing fiction that has to do with life's transitions. This one focuses on a young man's struggle to figure out exactly who he is and where he's going. It pulls a bit from my life thirty years ago but it also draws from the the many lives that have touched me since I picked up this sport.

Like many anthologies you'll find stories that strike your fancy and others that leave you scratching your head. But I think everyone will find something to their taste within its pages.

You can buy Pulp Fly: Volume Three ($4.99) from the following vendors (Apple iBook in the works):

Amazon Kindle
Kobo Books
B&N Nook

Also, from the folks at Pulp Fly:

Special pricing on Pulp Fly Volume Two for the holidays when purchased on Amazon, Barnes and Noble or Kobo!

Under the tree: Reading Anglers Edition

A few months ago Jason Whiteley sent me a copy of his illustrated children's book, Tales from the Tacklebox: Escape from the Crooked Tree. I've been sitting on that review for a while intending to pair it with another review I've been meaning to do but those great plans went the way of most great plans.

In this time of giving, I review below some of my favorite reading of this year. If I didn't already own this stuff I'd ask for it under the tree. If you know an angling reader I think they'd all be great gifts. Of course, don't forget to get a little something for yourself.

This book may set unreasonable expectations about the
size of fish than can be caught....

Tales from the Tacklebox: Escape from the Crooked Tree, Jason Whiteley, illustrated by Michael Koch, $14.99 Softcover, $4.99 ereader (Amazon, B&N, Google).

Jason sent me a free copy of his book and I subsequently bought the ereader version from Amazon. This is a fun book. It's delightfully illustrated by Michael Koch and while it has the simple story and primary colors of a children's book it's more than just a story about angling. Within is a fable of loneliness, self-worth and redemption; all valuable lessons for young anglers. My young nephew enjoyed it and was especially concerned about Stinkbait's loneliness. It's tough to be a Stinkbait.

Olive the Woolly Bugger App, Kirk Werner, The Apple App Store, $0.99

Who knew Dry Flies were such bastards!

I've been trying to buy Kirk's books for some time. I ordered the first book from an online fly shop and it turned out to be out of stock. A nearby fly shop told me they had a copy but it wasn't there when I arrived. I finally got around to buying them on Amazon while shopping for other Christmas presents. While awaiting their arrival (Note to Kirk: ebook),  I downloaded the Olive App. Short story: This thing is way under-priced for the value. Not only does it contain a short animated book that kids find enchanting, it also serves as an introduction to fly fishing. Throughout the story are links to sidebars describing all aspects of our sport from fly selection to stream entomology and river habitat. And then at the end there's a game. What's not to love? Kirk has an exceptional talent with both his illustrations and story telling. Good fun!

The Flyfish Journal, Steve Duda, Editor, $39.99/year, four issues

Part of the reason I still buy paper books is that some just feel good in the hand. Trade paperbacks I'll buy as an e-thing but certain hardcovers have a heft and quality that are delightful; good "hand". It's a strange thing by which to measure a piece of literature, but I never claimed to be normal. For forty bucks a year not only do you get four issues of fly fishing literature, but it comes in the best feeling and looking magazine journal I have ever held. And then when you open it and page through and read it you get wonderful stories from the likes of Deeter, Bie, Santella, Nolte and a host of others who write equally as well. Good stuff if you like the literary end of angling writing. Hook and bullet readers need not apply (unless you're looking for something completely different).

The Drake, Tom Bie, Editor,  $18/year, four issues

Attitude. Attitude. Attitude. Yeah, this journal has been around for a while and the forums that the Drake Mag site have spawned are notorious but it remains a benchmark for angling journals. I only discovered The Drake a year or so ago and find it an extraordinary collection of writers who don't have their drift boat tied to convention. At times I feel like it tries a bit too hard to not be conventional but then you don't become something different without planting your flag far off the beaten path. Mostly it's a solid, alternative voice in our sport's literary landscape. You'll read plenty of Tom Bie and Geoff Mueller in the magazine but you'll also get Tosh Brown, Chris Santella (there's that name again, watch for a pattern) and Bruce Smithhammer.

Fly Rod & Reel, Greg Thomas, Editor, $23.95/year, four issues

I know. You're saying, "Steve, you literary snob, how could you recommend a hook and bullet (sans bullet) magazine like Fly Rod & Reel. You might as well just recommend Field & Stream." Not so gentle readers. In a trend that began when Greg Thomas became editor a few years ago, the magazine has moved from being a "fish here, with this" sort of thing to being a place where stories about our sport can be found. This struck me when reading a recent article by Tom Rosenbauer about fishing the Delaware and a search of previous issues made it clear, the magazine is moving away from what one might consider "traditional" fare. Of course, this should be no surprise given the magazine's long tradition of publishing Gierach and the Traver Award winners. Look for more goodness from this magazine going forward.

Trout Magazine, Kirk Deeter, Editor, Free with a Trout Unlimited Membership, $17.50 Introductory Membership or Free for Women, four issues per year.

"Steve, again?! Are you nuts? Trout Magazine! That's TU Propaganda!" Okay, yes, historically this is a pretty dull magazine; mostly backhoes, stream restoration and news from the TU Nation. But TU went crazy and hired Kirk Deeter and installed him on the editorial throne. Since then this thing has taken a hard turn off-road. Kirk's first issue brought stories from writers like Chris Santella (there he is again), Monte Burke and Christopher Camuto. These writers aren't producing conservation articles. They're writing stories about the people, fisheries and sport that we all enjoy. While I'm going to reserve final judgement on this venture, I suspect that this will soon be the greatest value in fly fishing magazines -- free for the price of membership.

Finally, three quick recommendations: You couldn't go wrong with any of these books. Two I reviewed earlier this year: the Little Red Book of Fly Fishing by Deeter and Myers and Shin Deep by Chris Hunt. Each can be had for around $15 in the usual places. And, finally, Pulp Fly edited by Bruce Smithhammer, $4.95, ebook only. About a dozen stories from different writers, half of which made the bargain price more than worth it. Probably the second best value on this list.

I hope you all get what you want for Christmas, even if it's as simple as more time on the water and peace in your heart. Both things that are hard to find but are worth searching for.

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Even though Jason sent me a free copy of his book nobody else sent me anything or asked me to write this stuff. It's stuff that I enjoyed and hope you (and those on your Christmas list) enjoy as well.

The Rainbow Trout & The Green Drake: A Christmas Fable

There once was a Rainbow Trout who lived tight against an undercut stairwell. He lurked there for most of the year growing fat on the things that Rainbow Trout grow fat on and dreaming dreams that only a Rainbow Trout can dream. Mostly he finned in the currents that swirl beneath the stairs.

Not far from the lair of the Rainbow Trout lived the fabled Green Drake Hummingbird nymph. This large burrowing nymph scurried and munched and grew and dreamed of someday being a beautiful Green Drake Hummingbird.

Once a year, when the combination of temperature and light are just right, the Trout moves higher in the column to lurk near the stream-side shrubbery waiting for a morsel to eat.

The nymph also senses the changing of the season and rises quickly from the bottom emerging as a beautiful Green Drake Hummingbird.

Newly emerged, the Green Drake Hummingbird flutters on the surface. While she hopes to someday find a mate and raise a family, her immediate thoughts are on drying her wings and figuring out how to use the damn things to fly to the safety of the stream-side shrubbery.

Deep below the Rainbow Trout senses the distress of the newly emerged Green Drake Hummingbird and turns towards the movement. Moving swiftly past the glowing globes and blobs of red the Rainbow Trout closes on the Hummingbird who is full of the peace and love and hope that can only be found in the Christmas season.

Eat well this weekend. Be safe. Be Merry.

Fluttering helplessly the Green Drake Hummingbird attracts the attention of the Rainbow Trout

ALERT: Special Christmas Present Opportunity (from you to me)

I'm sorry I didn't bring this special opportunity to your attention earlier, but I've been busy.

I know most of you haven't bought me a Christmas present yet. I'm sure it's just an oversight; I've got a few more to pick up myself.

To save you all the trouble and bother of the malls, I've found the ideal gift for you to leave under my tree.

Trout Run.

No, not that charming town in Pennsylvania but rather the faux Camp David located in Thurmond, Maryland. And it's only $9 million. If all my readers chip in and do their part, that's only $3 million each and if they tell a couple of friends, well, you could make me happy for a whole lot less on a per capita basis.

This property has everything I'd need to make me happy:

• Gates to keep out folks who read my blog riffraff and poaching scum
• A tired, old rustic looking house for me and my family and a limited number of you whom I actually like as long as you keep your visits short and ply me with extravagant gifts.
• A bell which I'd ring in the early morning as a way to encourage hangers-on, dead beat relatives and riffraff who got past the gates to move to quieter places that aren't owned by me.
• A shuffleboard court (or whatever you call the place shuffleboard is played). I've never been on a cruise and now I wouldn't have to go on one just to play shuffleboard. My kids could practice and get shuffleboard scholarships to elite universities.
• "a two-mile trout stream running through the property" upon whose banks I could start a private club force feeding rainbow trout with trout chow and charging my personal friends upwards of $80,000 to catch them.... wait a minute, I think that's already been done.
• Several small streams at which I'd hold small stream conclaves and invite all the small stream blogger brethren and sistren to so that we could fish and dance and sing and play other reindeer games.

Hold on, I just clicked on the realtor link and it says the property is no longer for sale.

One of you must have bought it!

For me!

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

I can't wait until Christmas morning!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!*

*Regardless of whether you contributed to this wondrous and generous gift or not.

One tree, two tree, three tree, four.

Route 111 joins my house with a beautiful little trout stream. Along the way it passes through forests and brown fields and all the trappings of suburbia and it crosses another small river that never seems to fish as well as it promises. Driving back Saturday evening from Brook Char water I began to see them. It's after Thanksgiving so I don't begrudge them their joy, but I still feel it's a bit too early to see Christmas trees on top of minivans and SUVs.

We have a one tree house; one real tree goes in the dining room. The other rooms can't accommodate a Christmas tree* without some piece of furniture being moved into some other space. And then the other space will be too damn crowded for humans. I suppose that's our own fault; we happen to like furniture.

We're not decorators. You won't find icicle lights on our eaves or a glowing Rudolph on our roof. The only decorations visible from the street are white window lights and a small fake tree out on the porch. We got that dwarf tree a decade ago when we arrived home from a trip on Christmas Eve and couldn't find a real tree anywhere. I bought that fake tree, fully decorated, from the window of a local shop. We put a garbage bag over it, put it in the trunk, and it made a fine home for presents the next morning. I've often thought of replacing that fake tree with a small real tree but that's just one more thing to buy and to care for and to dispose of after the holiday.

Saturday, while Sam and I drove back from the char stream on Route 111 we passed many vehicles driving home with conifers lashed to their roofs. Again, I have no problem with this as long as it's after turkey day.  I expect some folks likely have tree erection traditions that practically require the purchase of evergreen products within forty-eight hours of Tryptophan poisoning.

What surprised me was the frequency of vehicles with multiple trees. At first I suspected that they were picking trees up for a disabled relative or a recluse neighbor. Then I considered that perhaps, like me, they were replacing that small fake tree on their porch with a proper tree. But then I began to see vehicles with three, and even four, trees.

WTF.

How many trees does one need to slay in order to properly celebrate the birth of Christ?

And then it struck me.

If one purchased a 6,000 square foot house mansion inferiority complex on a half acre of property with a sub-prime mortgage funded by taxpayers you have plenty of room in which to put more than one tree. And owning such a behemoth you probably aren't giving too much thought to conservation or any of that other drivel.

Consumption has gotten out of hand. I had hoped that the global economic crisis and unemployment and a general good look in the mirror might have caused one or more of us to decide that more of everything wasn't the goal of our existence. That maybe we'd give some thought to how we got here, what it means for our future, and how we might do things differently. But that's just Pollyanna bullshit. Consumption is King baby.

I'm sticking with one tree.

* At least of the "correct" proportions.