Bait 'n' Beer

As I wrote in my previous post (www.baitnbeer.com/content/welcome-back-my-friends-show-never-ends) I've grown increasingly weary this summer with the conversation about the Future of Publishing. Honestly, I don't think Seth Godin's recent announcement (sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2010/08/moving-on.html) is either interesting or relevant to more than a handful of authors. Nor do I care particularly about the Wylie-Random House detente (www.dailyfinance.com/story/company-news/random-house-andrew-wylie-backlist-ebook-amazon-kindle-rights-deal/19607446/) since a deal was always inevitable, given their mutual reliance. And apparently, several more sectors of the industry, more devices, and another format or two have been declared kaput since my last outing here. Yawn.
 
While all these (and more!) were being discussed and debated to death, I've spent a lot more time reading and it reminds me that this entire business and all its travails are simply a means to the important end of getting great books in front of readers. To that end, I'm using my space today to recommend a title that I read in one sitting yesterday and which struck my sensibilities more than any debut novel I've read in years.
 
A week or so ago, Greg Michalson (Co-Publisher, along with my good friend and music/spiritual advisor, Fred Ramey) at Unbridled Books (unbridledbooks.com/) was kind enough to send me a galley of Peter Geye's Safe From the Sea, with an extraordinary personal note praising the book (to be released in October). As soon as I completed a couple of unfinished books on my nightstand, I picked up Geye's novel and never put it down.
 
The book's story is one of reconciliation between a long-estranged father and son, with a back-story of a shipwreck tragedy on Lake Superior that was the defining event in the father's life and which became, as a result, the defining event in his family members' lives. I won't spoil the tale but will say that the pacing and narrative of both stories unfold nearly perfectly, building to the reconciliation and conclusion in the most marvelous way. In addition, Geye captures the unique "up north" Minnesota culture and experience, and the voices of those who live and work there with perfect pitch and an uncommon eye for detail that allows even those who've never visited there to feel as if they are, in fact, experiencing the place. He writes tautly, but he omits none of the essentials. It's a fine mix.
 
Those of you who know me are aware that I seldom gush over anything, but allow me to gush over this fine literary novel. I hesitate to use that term since (a) for some, it implies the preciousness or elitism along the lines of the current Franzen-Stein masturbatory frenzy and (b) this book has all the adventure and excitement of a Jack London story, which I'd hardly characterize as exclusively literary. But the writing and the stories are masterful, the characters (and I include the Lake as a character) are as fully drawn as in the most literary of novels. It's a stunning debut from a Minneapolis native.
 
I urge you to get your own digital galley at NetGalley (www.netgalley.com/) and/or to pre-order a copy from Unbridled's website or from your favorite indie, chain or online bookseller. I also understand that Geye will be at both the Midwest Booksellers Association and the Great Lakes Independent Booksellers Association fall shows. This book and this author deserve a wide audience. When you've read it, I think you'll agree and join me in evangelizing its merits. I'm not shilling for Unbridled (they're very capable shills themselves) but I plan to talk this up to everyone I know.
 
Now we can go back to arguing about which part of the book business is dead. (It sure as hell isn't the reading part.)