Hard to believe that it’s been a year since Homewaters: A Human and Natural History of Puget Sound has been published. I hope you’ll bear with me while I celebrate. Woohoo! Yay! GollyNed! Sales have exceeded expectations. We are up to a little over 4,700 copies sold, which I think is pretty nifty for a regional book. Thank you to my publisher the University of Washington Press for their support.
I would like to think all of the local bookstores that have shown such amazing support for my book: Brick & Mortar Books, Browsers Books, Edmonds Bookshop (on their bestseller list), Elliott Bay Books, Island Books, Kingfisher Books, Liberty Bay Books, Madison Books (#26 in 2022 sales), Magnolia Books, Paper Boat Books, Phinney Books, Port Book & News, Queen Anne Books, Third Place Books, and University Bookstore. I was also honored to be a Peak Pick at Seattle Public Libraries.
Better than sales were the kind words and feedback I got for the book and for my talks. Who wouldn’t be excited and humbled by these two?
• “Homewaters should be required reading for anyone who moves to Puget Sound.”
• “Just wanted to say that you seem to have saved the best C&F presentation for the last of our 2021 season. I thought David B Williams’ talk on his book, Homewaters, was just remarkable. His well-woven narrative led us on an imaginative, but well researched, journey through the rich history of our magical Puget Sound area. His words strengthened my hope that by demonstrating how completely interconnected we are with this unique part of the world, that our commitment to its stewardship will deepen.”
I’d also like to point out one aspect of the book that I am guessing is often overlooked: the Endnotes. As to be expected, they do include details on citations but there are also many fun facts and observations that didn’t fit into the text. These include the curious geology of the San Juan Islands; how people used to travel up Sound to Olympia, instead of down Sound, as they do know; a reference to a song by the Band and how it connects to Puget Sound; how a steamship once “walked” across a beach; and thoughts on pickled herring. Check them out. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
Then there was this note I received: "A lady just came into the library & purchased the library copy of Homewaters because she cut herself while reading it and damaged the book. She was so engrossed didn't know she was bleeding." I certainly don’t wish that any of you end(ed) up cutting yourself while reading Homewaters but certainly hope you enjoyed/will enjoy it.
Thanks again to all for your support for my writing with my books and through my newsletter.
Wishing all of you a wonderful and splendid and hopeful Earth Day.
If you are interested in purchasing a copy of Homewaters, here’s a link to my website sales page.
Newsletter Update - Last November I wrote about this lot in downtown Seattle, which I celebrated for the trees that had returned though I added that the space was slated for development. Sadly the trees are now gone. I took the “After” photo April 16, 2022.
Newsletter Comments - Several people contacted me about my Navigation newsletter. - “This reminds me of being in Managua, where a typical instruction would be to turn right where the Toyota used to be, or donde fue el Texaco.”
- “Speaking of learning to find your way around, my grandson is a fire fighter in Spokane. As a part of his training he had to memorize all the streets in and around Spokane.”
Word of the Week - Ned - The OED has two definitions: a Scottish slang term for a hooligan, thug, or yob and an American term for a ten-dollar gold piece. Both are rare. I have occassionally been chastized for my use of Golly Ned. I am not sure why. Nor do I know who the Ned in question is but I now like the idea of it referring to a yob, another term found in the former British Empire, meaning a boy or bloke or country bumpkin.
Congratulations on the book! I agree with all the positive comments. I look at my surroundings with a different eye these days as a result of the book as well as the newsletter. Hmm, looks like I need to go back and check out all the endnotes, I glanced over them but definitely need to do more investigation!
My first thought was that the Ned in question must be Dutch Ned, the sawdust-laden character to whom David introduced my wife and me in the Too High and Too Steep class at the Burke Museum that accompanied the release of the book of the same name a few years ago. I wonder which came first, the saying or the famous Dutch Ned from Seattle?