The Learning Never Stops

I know I do not do a great job of promoting my work (conversely, perhaps I do such a good job that I can say something like I know I do not do a great job of promoting my work and you actually believe me and feel a little sorry for me and therefore buy all my books AND hit the generosity enabler).

In all seriousness, I am not comfortable trumpeting my written work, and in particular, my books and articles. I generally mention them only to the extent they are present in my life, but rarely as entities unto themselves, if that makes any sense. I’m not sure why this is, but I think it might have something to do with my perception of my credibility. Or maybe my authenticity, to use one of the more over-used words of our time. I can’t say I fully understand the connection between self-promotion and credibility/authenticity, and it’s not as if I think authors who promote their work necessarily lack these qualities.

The flip side of all this is that selling my work is what makes all this possible. By “all this,” I mean our lives, or at least the version of our lives we’ve become so accustomed to. And I mean this blog, because despite the handful (ok, two handfuls) of readers who generously support my work in this space on a regular basis, my presence here cannot exist without the support of my books and articles, because if I did not have books and articles to sell, I’d like as not be employed in a manner that would not grant me the luxury of writing here.

Point being, I have a book coming out very soon. Basically, now. Actually, it’s Penny and I who have a book coming out. I’ve mentioned it in passing before. It’s called The Nourishing Homestead: One Back-to-the-Land Family’s (because I guess that’s what we are: A back-to-the-land family) Plan for Cultivating Soil, Skills, and Spirit. You can learn a bit more about it here. You can also order it there, or directly from me, or (my preference) from your local book seller. Huh. Seems as if I forgot to mention Amazon. Funny. But yeah, it’s there, too.

This book is about a lot of things – how we raise our animals, how we grow and process our annual and perennial crops, how we amend our soils, even how to determine the edibility of roadkill (no, really). It’s also about why we do these things, which to me is at least as important. Still, it’s primarily a how-to book; perhaps the best analogy I can make is to say it’s a lot like this blog, but with instructions. Maybe 30% philosophy and 70% practice. Oh, and there are lots and lots of photos. I think we submitted something like 250; I know a few got cut, but I’m guessing there are still more than 200 color images.

I worked harder on this manuscript than any previous (if any of my other editors are reading this, I’m lying). Part of that is because Penny played a huge role in its development, but equally, it’s simply more material than any of my previous books. It runs 120,000 words, which means it’s about 119,500 more words than than I’ve written thus far in this post. That’s a lot of words, and it doesn’t even include the tens of thousands of others that were discarded in the process.

Everything in The Nourishing Homestead – the mistakes, the triumphs, the lessons learned, and so on – is rooted in our experience, which collectively adds up to more than 40 years. Still, we could not have written this book ten or maybe even five years ago; we just weren’t ready. In some ways, it strikes me as a little presumptuous to believe we are ready now – there is still so much to learn. But then, there always will be. That is one of the greatest gifts of this life: The learning never stops.

I don’t think our book is the last word in homesteading resources. But I do think it’s pretty unique. Far as I know, it’s the only homesteading book to discuss soil remineralization in some depth. It goes pretty deep into whole foods nutrition. It explores site design and building techniques. A lot of animal husbandry. There’s even a recipe for beaver liver pate (don’t worry: You can substitute chicken, beef, or pork livers if you’re running short of beav).

Anyway. At the risk of somehow diminishing my credibility/authenticity (if not in your mind, then in mine), I’m actually kinda proud of this book. In short, I think it’s pretty good, and I hope you will buy it. Furthermore, if you buy it and you like it, I hope you will tell others about it. Conversely, if you think it sucks, I hope you will keep it to yourself. But honestly, I really don’t think you will. Well, unless you’re a vegan, in which case it’s a distinct possibility.

Oh, yeah, and one other thing, whilst I’m on a role: My amazing, generous friend Marie set up and oversees a Facebook page for me. I don’t entirely understand how FB works, and I don’t spend much time there, but here it is for your convenience. Oh, another thing: I’m writing a series of essays for Yankee magazine. For this year, they are about living on a northern Vermont homestead; next year, they will expand to include, well, whatever catches my eye. And ear: I will be producing a series of podcasts relating to the stories that catch my eye. I’m really looking forward to that.

As always, thank you for your support, both material and otherwise.