Writer's view of editor

I have mentioned before that this corner occasionally gets mail asking, “How do you become an outdoor writer?” The correct answer is “Have compromising pictures of the managing editor,” but as most of the would-be outdoor journalists aren’t practiced in the art of blackmail or photo manipulation, I am forced to give some harebrained suggestion such as, “learn to write.”

In an effort to answer both pieces of mail that have asked this question, I will publicly offer some suggestions for the budding outdoor scribe. If you fit into this category, I invite you to study the ideas religiously and then apply yourself with vigor. Just don’t apply them to this newspaper or extremely incriminating photos of you are only a few mouse clicks away from being mailed to the major television networks and/or religious denominations.

To write successfully about the outdoors, you must have a basic familiarity with the world beyond pavement. If you still are having difficulty making the distinction between deer and Hereford cattle, you might consider another line of work. The same goes for angling: if the word “icky” appears whenever you discuss the landing of a fish, you might not be ready for prime time. Overt fears of the dark or aversion to arterial bleeding are also disqualifications.

On the other hand, if you are already an accomplished liar, then you are eminently qualified to write; go straight to the major outdoor magazines if this is the case.  If you are a pathological liar, skip the magazines and plunge right into television.

The basic goal of outdoor writing is to let the reader experience a little bit of what you have seen, heard, felt, tasted and smelled. If you have friends like mine, consider leaving out the smell part because some readers don’t have strong stomachs.

You need to make the words leap from the page, grabbing the reader by the throat and compel them to follow along. A good piece of writing transports the reader alongside the writer to figuratively experience every leech bite and major propeller injury. Really excellent writing can even cause intestinal distress without actually drinking any lake water.

Editor's view of writer

A writer probably needs some expertise in the use of words. For instance, I know that a noun is a word that appears in most sentences and is often pontificated upon by high school English teachers. Spelling is another useful skill. Here’s a professional spelling tip: tap the “F7” key. If done properly, magical computer fairies manage to clean up the gross errors though they still won’t crank out 20-column-inches by Friday deadline. Don’t worry about dangling participles or split infinitives; these are an urban legends invented by the Trilateral Commission or possibly the Methodists.

Once of the most important concepts of writing is Topic. Without a topic, you end up casting around like a young bird dog, full of enthusiasm but not having the first idea why you are there. Topics are often difficult to locate, tougher than making a double on quail or catching a steelhead on a fly. In fact, I would rather bet my financial future on catching a nice Skamania on a tinsel fly than try to pluck a theme from thin air after sitting down at the keyboard with a headache at 9 p.m. on Thursday.

If you can handle all the word-related stuff, there are many benefits of being an outdoor writer. First is the paycheck. You actually get paid for going outdoors and then spilling ink about the adventure! Sometimes you can even pay the for the gasoline used during the trip, after receiving that paycheck about 12 months later and provided you were fishing within 10 miles of home. Some outdoor writers have even been known to become wealthy, defined as “not having surly bill collectors calling after 11 p.m.” This, however, is the exception rather than the rule.

More importantly, you receive the accolades and respect of fellow outdoors enthusiasts. They look up to the writer with awe and respect, though it is often concealed beneath a veneer of indifference or outright hostility. It is comical to see a reader trying so hard not to make a maudlin public display of respect and veneration when meeting an outdoor scribe. Sometimes they even will threaten with a canoe paddle in an effort to conceal their esteem.

It is not easy to become an outdoor writer and even tougher to land a weekly column. It takes years of practice, field craft and paying dues before that big break comes in a phone call, letter or email. But when it does, the rewards cannot be measured in mere dollars.

Oh yes, you should also master irony. For instance, it is ironic that synonyms for the word Mere include meager, measly, scanty, insufficient and paltry.

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