A Love Letter to Rick Bass

Dear Rick,

How could you not tell me you were going to be in Seattle again?!? I had to find about it from a friend who sent me this link, a mere four hours away from the reading. I'm so hurt. I know I've been distracted with work a lot lately. But is that a reason not to call or write?

I don't care if we've never met, or that you have no idea who I am.

Ever since I read that description of bats flying into the chimney of a burning house in The Hermit's Story collection, we've had a connection. It didn't hurt that I found out that you too are from Texas, and even lived in Houston - and yet you went on to become something more than an Acura-owner who never uses their blinker! 

You gave me hope, Rick Bass. In Texas.

I get it: you've been busy with your environmentalism, your prolific publishing rate (a short story/essay per every Montana snowfall). Your family. Your new book, Nashville Chrome, which I'll try to read - but keep in mind, I still have eighteen of your other books to catch up on. I have a few on audiotape even.

Anyway, I want you to know: I'll never forget the charming description you gave at the last EB reading I attended: cataloging the many times you've accidentally sprayed yourself with bear spray. It pretty much sealed the deal:

I think you're simply the best.

Call me.

-Bond

See Bass read at Elliott Bay Books tonight, September 17 at 8:00pm.