MD said, "A good writer can do things with a story that TV cannot, because he can spark our own imagination and actually make us feel as if we were there. There are very few TV shows that create the same sort of atmosphere, let alone the interior conflicts and emotions we feel when hunting."
And MD, you are one of the few out there left that can, even if the word limit is short, give us at least a taste of what it was like being there with your words. Really good stories would be called "wordy" today, in our sound byte oriented world, and largely, I think, because people don't want to spend one second more in reading something than is absolutely necessary to get, like Jack Web used to say, "Just the facts, ma'am."
Most of us hunt for the constantly changing feelings, sensations and questions that are presented to us during the hunt. Real hunting is a very cerebral thing, if done right. A writer, like yourself, who has the talent to put all that in words effectively has always been a pretty rare commodity. Robert Ruark is one of the greats, but there are a good number more.
Now that physical limitations let me get out less than I have traditionally, it'd sure be nice if the editors could at least allow some experimentation in this. With our population getting older, and especially those who'd buy gun mags, it just might enhance sales and subscribership. If you could pass this on to editors without getting your hiney chewed for it, they might be surprised at how many former subscribers would resubscribe.
Just a FWIW, really. All I can do is all I can do, and in this case, that's just to ask. Thanks for a great discussion, all.
I think you and John put your finger on it right there: the ability of the author to spark the imagination so that the reader feels like he is a part of the story. That is what I appreciate about many of the old-time writers, as well as a few of the contemporary ones.
They also relate their stories in ways that spark memories. For instance, John's article about opening and closing ranch "gates" in the most recent Sports Afield did that for me just last night. His description of the fellow from Back East who closed the gate with himself on the wrong side reminded me of the time I did the exact same thing, fighting a new fence "gate" open and closed only to find myself knee-deep in muck on the wrong side and having to do it all over again. My BIL remarked, "I didn't know ministers knew that kind of language." The only thing I could think to say was, "Yeah, well, I wasn't always a priest."
