Jesse Lance Robbins is a long-time contributor to The Flyfish Journal and other flyfishing publications whose work often takes an unexpected approach to the topic of flinging flies at fish. From ruminations on contact lenses to a disorienting stop in a Japanese convenience store, Robbins’ stories and essays remind us of the weird, wonderful and meaningful places flyfishing can take us.
Many of those stories were collected this year in The Best Fly Fishing is Everywhere: Stories in Celebration of Why We Fish, which was published in February by Hatherleigh Press. I chatted with Robbins this spring about the genesis of the book and his own beginnings as an angler and writer.
Jason Rolfe: What's your earliest memory of being gob smacked by a piece of writing—fishing or otherwise?
Jesse Lance Robbins: Two memories come to mind, one fishing-related, one not.The former came while working as a shop rat at Maine Sport Outfitters in Rockport, ME. I think I'd seen John Gierach on my father's bookshelves before then, but I distinctly remember reading the chapter "Expertizing" from Sex, Death, and Fly Fishing, and being floored by how he nailed the experience of “expertizing” in the fly shop: “Expertizing means acting like an expert. Not necessarily being an expert, mind you, but acting like one. There’s a difference. It’s something we all slip into from time to time when we realize that we know just a little bit more about fishing than the person we’re talking to or, worse yet, that we really don’t know any more, but the person is willing, for one reason or another, to believe we do. The symptoms are painfully obvious. When a question is asked we clear our throats, square our shoulders, glance briefly at the ceiling, and begin with, 'Well now…' as if we’re consciously pulling our minds down from some great height.” I'd seen it done by the old timers in the shop, and I'd done it myself. I kept reading Gierach and quickly learned that whatever he wrote was usually spot on.The other memory is sitting in my room reading the lyrics from the track "Alive" in the liner notes of a brand new Beastie Boys CD: "Dip-dip dive so-socialize/Open up your ears and clean out your eyes/If you learn to love you're in for a surprise/It could be nice to be alive". The whole song is filled with gems like this, and between the wordplay, the rhyming scheme and the positivity, I was in. I used those lyrics in my college essay, in readings at weddings and elsewhere. Coincidentally, I think both of these events happened sometime in 1999 or 2000.
You mentioned Maine—that’s your childhood stomping and fishing grounds, right?
I grew up in Midcoast Maine, where there's easy access to trout streams, smallmouth bass ponds and lakes, and the Atlantic. My father taught me to flyfish, but a love for the outdoors was passed on to me by both of my parents. My father's father and uncle were both keen Northeast anglers and outdoorsmen and, while I never met them, I'm sure that I carry some of their wisdom. My mother's parents were New York/New Jersey city folks, but intrepid travelers, so I inherited a little bit of their “itchy feet” too.
Jesse Lance Robbins. Photo: Stacey Detwiler
We’ll get back to those “itchy feet,” which feature prominently in the book. But I wonder: Did the discovery of flyfishing literature/art change your appreciation for the act of flyfishing in any appreciable way?
Undoubtedly. Flyfishing literature showed me that the practice extends far beyond the water, that “fishing” begins long before the first cast of the day, and ends long after the sun goes down. Flyfishing exists in the present, in our minds, whenever we want it to, through reading and writing and other creative, artistic pursuits. Inspiration flows back and forth: fishing inspires the art, and creating the art inspires our next fishing trip. This realization changed my appreciation for flyfishing, in that it became all-encompassing, and the freedom, wonder and mind-meanderings that were catalyzed by actually fishing could then also be sparked off the water as well.
I'm re-reading A River Runs Through It now (50th anniversary!), and in the final story of the book, "The Ranger, The Cook, and a Hole in the Sky," Maclean writes: "I had as yet no notion that life every now and then becomes literature - not for long, of course, but long enough to be what we best remember, and often enough so that what we eventually come to mean by life are those moments when life, instead of going sideways, backwards, forward, or nowhere at all, lines out straight, tense and inevitable, with a complication, climax, and, given some luck, a purgation, as if life had been made and not happened."
That idea of flyfishing’s “all-encompassing” nature hints at the title of your book. Tell me about the inspiration for the title, and about how you approached organizing the different sections.
Inspiration for the title came in a few ways. The first was the realization that the enjoyment I had while fishing was largely independent of the fish themselves. Put another way: for me, the lasting parts of the trips come more from the surprising moments, shared experiences, questions that arise and epiphanies made, rather than the fish in the net. It's not always like that, and I'm not delusional to the fact that the fish are the catalyst to it all. I do like to catch fish and do try to catch fish! But what has become equally, if not more, interesting to me is the other stuff that happens.
At the same time, my fatigue was waxing for the plethora of how-to flyfishing writing that feels more transactional. Within those kinds of pieces, I found repeated use of subjective phrases and clichés, like "some of" or "the best of," etc. So, I played with that a little bit too.
To get back to your question, the title is an emphasis on and reminder that memorable, meaningful days on the water can happen anywhere, at any time.
As for organization, all along I had the notion that I was going to arrange them in some sort of logical way. I played with freshwater and saltwater, fish species, and other themes like that, but somewhere in the process I found that I could organize the stories by where they took place—again, in a subjective way. Here, There, and Everywhere seemed like a nice play on the title itself, and I could easily place chapters accordingly. Ultimately, I ended up with Here: Flyfishing near home, wherever that was at the time; There: Traveling to flyfish and flyfishing while traveling; and Everywhere: Wherever it is, flyfishing is distinctly the same.
The “There” in the book of course refers to travel, and to the itchy feet you mentioned in reference to your mother's side of the family. Are you the type to always bring a rod, no matter where you're traveling? Or do you try to compartmentalize at times, keeping some trips free of flyfishing?
Good question. Like any worthy fishing debate, the answer is probably, “It depends.” I've tried it both ways and had mixed results: didn't bring a rod on some trips and found it load-lightening, physically and mentally, but have also regretted not having one at times and debated how much trouble it would've been. I've also packed gear all the way across the equator and didn't fish a lick! I think my fancy fishing pliers got taken at airport security that trip too. There's definitely an essay there...
Interior artwork by Bre Drake
Tell us a bit about the interior art by Bre Drake? Did you give her free rein?
I got to know Bre through, as you might guess, fishing; one of the chapters in the book tells that story actually. She's a super talented artist and creative across mediums and I've admired her work for a long time. We've collaborated on a few projects over the years, so following the decision to run with Here, There, and Everywhere for the book sections, and knowing that complementary artwork would serve the book well and help complete the package, she was my first call. She had total free rein: I gave her the book section titles and subtitles, and she ran with it from there. I didn't see her drafts or in-process versions, and when she passed the artwork along to me, I was in love. Having artwork from Bre (and another good friend Chase White, for the cover) as part of this project makes it even sweeter.
What's next? Is your next fishing trip "here" or "there"?