-- Featured Book! --
To find ourselves in the land, we don't need to buy a farm . . . We are all creatures born to soil and wilderness; the outdoors, not an air-conditioned office or schoolroom with windows that can't be opened, is our natural habitat. Night or day, walk out into the grass or woods alone, sit down, and listen. Dig in the earth; plant something. Walk and watch any living thing except another human. . . start with the closest spot of earth . . . Sit outside at midnight and close your eyes; feel the grass, the air, the space. Listen to birds for ten minutes at dawn. Memorize a flower . . . you cannot overdose on this experience, and it doesn't cause a disease, or require you to seek therapy. You can only benefit.
From Land Circle: Writings Collected from the Land
“Land Circle: Lessons”
pages 241-242 original edition
pages 268-269 Anniversary edition
What's Here?
Land Circle: Writings Collected from the Land was originally released in hardcover in 1991
and in paperback in 1993, by Fulcrum Publishing.
Now comes the "Anniversary Edition," a paperback published in 2008.
What New Material Is Included in the "Anniversary Edition"?
Linda explains the new dedication, and more.
Work Boots and the Sustainable Universe
Read the rest of the story about the Red Wing boots. Photo included!
Linda Answers Some Questions about Land Circle.
What's the anniversary? How has Linda's writing-- and her life-- changed since the book was first published?
Includes a touching story about how some readers responded to the "Aurora Borealis and Bells" essay.
What's With That Juniper Tree?
The author photo of each edition shows Linda with a juniper tree.
Read the story of the windbreak-- planting, irrigating, rock mulching. Compare photos from 1991 and 2008.
Excerpts from Land Circle on Linda's Blog (this link will take you to the Blog Page)
Essays and poems from the book have been reprinted in Linda's Blog on this website.
Heat Wave on the Highway may be found in the August, 2010 archives or under the index topic of air conditioning.
O Holy Night on the Prairie may be found in the December, 2010 archives or under the index topic of John Lennon.
The poem At the Balloon Races in Custer, South Dakota may be found in the January, 2012 archives or under the index topic of balloons.
The poem Butchering the Crippled Heifer may be found in the January, 2012 archives or under the index topic of beef.
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What New Material Is Included in the "Anniversary Edition"?
A "Note from the Author" about changes since 1991 when the original edition of the book was published.
A Foreword by Dan O'Brien (author of
Buffalo for the Broken Heart, The Rites of Autumn, others).
An introduction to the new edition, by Linda M. Hasselstrom. The original introduction is also included.
The "Acknowledgements" section has been moved from the front to the back of the book and Linda has added some "Notes on the New Edition."
A new author bio and photo are included.
Linda writes:
Note that there was no dedication in the original edition; now it’s "to the survival of the shortgrass prairie," because the survival of the shortgrass prairie seems ever more precarious as more people move into it without a glimmering of understanding of its requirements, beauties, or dangers.
None of the essays are changed, but I updated the "Additional Resources" at the end of the book so it’s still a good place to look for books, periodicals, products, and regional organizations working on the issues of conservation so that you can become as involved as you wish to be.
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Linda's Redwing boots, spring 2009
Work Boots and the Sustainable Universe
In 1991, the first edition of LAND CIRCLE was published, ending with the essay "Work Boots and the Sustainable Universe." I’d spent considerable time writing that book. doing research, collecting footnotes, and I was frustrated by the lack of attention being paid to sustainability at the time by the media, but also and perhaps especially by environmentalists.
So for this final essay, I write in what I now consider my most successful style: an ordinary human being reflecting on ordinary matters. In this case, I focused on my work boots, and used them as a metaphor for the way we treat our environment. (I encourage writers to read the essay, and study how that metaphor works.)
On pages 333-334 in the original edition of the book (pages 373-374 of the Anniversary Edition), I described buying the most recent pair, not long after George died, for $135, and how that seemed like a lot of money.
Then I described my previous experiences with buying cheap work boots, and how George persuaded me to buy Red Wings, adding "(This is the only commercial message which will appear, and no one could pay me enough to say this if it weren’t true.)"
I went on to describe my work boots, starting with the first pair in 1974 that cost me $65, the second pair that cost $83. I described, in the succeeding pages, what I put those boots through: rattlesnake strikes, cacti and general abuse.
After the book was published I joked with friends about the possibility that Red Wing would lavish some award on me for my impromptu advertising, but I made no effort to bring the book to the company’s attention. Several years later-- two, perhaps?-- I received a letter from an executive with the Red Wing company thanking me for my endorsement, and saying that I should go to the nearest Red Wing store and get a free pair.
By that time, I was living in Cheyenne, Wyoming, but I wanted the store where I’d bought the boots I wrote about to benefit, so I kept the letter until I was next in Rapid City. Then I visited my local store and explained the situation. The owner was, perhaps understandably, skeptical, so I brought out the letter. I walked out with a new pair of Red Wing boots.
Since I didn’t live on the ranch full time again until my recent move home in 2008, that free pair of boots is in great shape, but I expect them to start showing more wear soon.
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Linda Answers Some Questions about Land Circle.
QUESTION: Why is it called the Anniversary Edition? What's so special about the 17th year anniversary?
Contrary to what you may think, no 17-year cicadas were involved.
Land Circle was originally published in cloth bound in 1991. But this new paperback edition appears on the 15th anniversary of the paperback edition, published in 1993.
Few books originally published in cloth editions sell enough copies to justify producing a paperback. If you were to review publishing history in the past 50 years, you’d see that only the best-sellers, usually the most popular types of books, go into paperback. In recent years, publishers have begun skipping the hardbound edition completely, and publishing originally in paperback-- which saves the publisher and the reader money.
And in some instances, a publisher simply
cuts off the cloth cover and substituted a paper cover rather than reprinting. This allows announcement of a “new paperback edition,” but if you closely compare the original with the paperback you’ll notice that errors have not been corrected, and no new publishing information appears.
Land Circle really didn’t sell enough copies to justify a paperback edition, but I am fortunate that it was published by Fulcrum Publishing, an independent, regional press whose staff really is concerned about land use and other Western issues. They have noticed that the book is widely quoted and read, even if not widely purchased, so they were kind enough not only to publish a new edition, but to allow me to revise and update it for these changing times.
QUESTION: Do you have a favorite essay or poem in the book?
I find it hard to answer this question; I’ve read from this book hundreds of times at public readings, and been surprised sometimes at what the audience likes: "Ironing My Husband’s Shirts" is very popular, especially with women.
Conversely, though, I seldom read anything from "George: In Beauty Walk," because even now I risk being ambushed by tears. Some performers make it a point to cry during readings, but I prefer not to do so.
"Thanksgiving Prayer" is a favorite, but one I rarely read in public.
I love "Coffee Cup Café," and often read it aloud, along with "The Wild and Woolly West," a poem I like because it debunks some Western myths.
QUESTION: Land Circle has some very funny essays and poems, but also some very sad ones. What can you tell us about the hard times you went through?
The period of my life from which
Land Circle was written was extremely difficult. I'd found love again after a disastrous first marriage in which I remained far too long, and which took me away from my homeland. And then I lost my husband, and it seemed that my father's decline was likely to mean I would lose the ranch as well.
So I tried to make alternate plans. I bought into a retreat in northern New Mexico near Vallecitos, and grew to love that country-- and then economic necessity forced it to be sold as well.
The cliche says "life is what happens to you while you’re making other plans," and I just kept writing, hoping to find some kind of stability. Everywhere I looked, in exile in New Mexico and after my move to Cheyenne, Wyoming, I found something to love, something to challenge me and make my life better.
QUESTION: Has your writing changed in the past fifteen (or seventeen) years?
As I say in the new introduction, I now avoid both footnotes and statistics in my writing, and try to leave the political slogans, speech-making and traveling the country speaking from soap boxes to other writers. So many of these issues are important, and I’m grateful for the young, energetic writers who spend more time talking than writing, and who throw themselves with vigor into political activism. I spent thirty years doing so, and miss it sometimes.
Still, I find I am able to write more coherently, and therefore I hope in a way that will be more lasting, if I stick close to home, close to the soil and sky and faces I recognize, telling their stories. You have to know your roots to figure out how you have grown, I think, and appreciate the past in order to understand the future. So I try to record the stories that will help me, and those who come after me, save what’s best about this land and culture.
QUESTION: Which has been reprinted more often-- the essay about the northern lights, or the essay about carrying a pistol?
The essay "Why One Peaceful Woman Carries a Pistol" was first published in a short version by
High Country News, and I was interviewed about carrying a gun by Faith Daniels on NBC before
Land Circle was published. Since then, it has been reprinted 23 times to my knowledge-- and this should be a definite thing, since permission is required for such reprints. However, every now and then someone mentions seeing it in a college textbook or other source, or online as part of either an anti-gun rant or a pro-gun diatribe, for which I have not given permission, so I wonder how many pirated versions exist.
High Country News was also first to publish the essay "Aurora Borealis and Bells," which appeared there before it appeared in
Land Circle. It has been reprinted at least seven times since, including a version in
Reader’s Digest (April, 1992) and
Chicken Soup for the Nature Lover’s Soul.
QUESTION: What are your thoughts on having your essays shortened and changed when they are reprinted?
I do not want my essays shortened or changed in any way when they are reprinted. When
Reader’s Digest reprinted a much-shortened version of my essay "Aurora Borealis and Bells" as "Night of the Bells" in April 1992, all references that might have signified any religious belief except Christianity were removed-- against my ferocious objections.
I am certainly not anti-Christian, or against any religion which honestly improves people’s lives and gives them comfort. My beliefs are, I believe, mostly my own business. I resist talking about them, and I don't attempt to persuade anyone to agree with me.
I object, however, to the easy assumption that we all believe the same thing, and I object even more vigorously to the view that often seems to prevail: "If you don’t agree with me, I’ll kill you." It’s bad politics, and worse religion.
Still, the reprint brought me letters from people who might never have seen the original essay.
One man, a retired Marine I believe, said he hadn’t cried since his wife died, since he was a tough Marine, you know, and we don’t cry. But the essay made him cry, and he thanked me for that.
A woman wrote to tell me her brother had been on watch on a fishing vessel in the North Atlantic on the night when I saw the Aurora Borealis. The sea was rough, and the vessel’s handlines were covered with ice, and he’d gone overboard. No doubt, in those frigid waters, he died quickly, but his body was never recovered. She grieved, because she couldn’t understand how her careful brother could have died that way. But when she read my essay, she reasoned that perhaps he’d seen the Aurora, and been inattentive to the handrail for a moment. Perhaps, she said, he is with George in the Aurora choir that I'd imagined, playing the colors instead of singing.
I still like my essay best in its original version, and would resist attempts to water down any of my other work, but I’m glad that the shortened version reached these readers and touched them.
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The 1990 photo from the dust-jacket of the cloth edition of Land Circle
What's With That Juniper Tree?
I bend my knees and set my feet solidly, fit my hands around the rock, and lift. I’m picking up the ancient earth piece by piece, carrying rocks to pile around trees I have planted in a steep prairie hillside.
This is not good terrain for growing trees, this rocky northern slope covered with tangled prairie grasses . . .
--from
Land Circle: Writings Collected on the Land
Part I, “Rock Lover” (pages 90-91)
published by Fulcrum Publishing, 1991, Anniversary Edition 2008
Linda writes:
My first book, published in 1987, was titled
Windbreak. After my husband died in 1988, I’d written a poem to him titled "Windbreak Now" which was first published in
LIFE Magazine.
When it came time to have an author photo taken for
Land Circle in 1990, it seemed appropriate to me that since I’d written about windbreaks and drought, my author picture should reflect that, and show me doing some of the work I do besides writing.
Linda with the same juniper tree in spring, 2008
(photo by Jerry Ellerman, PE)
Another spring has come. I’ve spent a warm morning in sun and melting snow wandering along the pasture trails, prying rocks out of the chilled earth and loading them into my truck . . . One by one I chose the stones, lifting them out, piling them on top of a layer of magazines and catalogs around the little juniper trees that don’t yet reach my knees . . .
When I pick up a piece of limestone, I turn the crisp, pale green lichen up to face the sun, careful not to flake it off, hoping it will continue to grow. I position pink and white quartz chunks big as my fist to catch the eye, interrupt the tawny prairie colors so that even if every tree has disappeared, anyone walking through the deep grass on the hillside will see these piles of stones and know another person worked here.
--from
Land Circle: Writings Collected on the Land
Part I, “Rock Lover” (page 97)
published by Fulcrum Publishing, 1991, Anniversary Edition 2008
Linda writes:
My husband George and I planted the windbreak, a mix of juniper and chokecherry trees, soon after we built our house in 1981. We watered it with a drip irrigation system, a long plastic pipe with a single tiny hole by each tree. I put old carpet around the base of each tree to kill weeds and hold moisture in the ground, and weighted the carpet down with rocks so it wouldn’t blow around the landscape. When I watered the trees, I used the absolute minimum of water to keep them alive, since water is so scarce in our region.
Here’s how part of that irrigation system worked:
In my father's junk piles I found discarded hoses, used duct tape lavishly to patch the worst holes and longest splits, then fitted them into my existing system, inventing "leak irrigation." In several spots I planted two new trees below older ones, reasoning that water would soak down to them. But the higher trees and the dry heat absorbed every drop of moisture. I taped short pieces of broken hose over leaks to water the lower trees. Friends who walked through the windbreak tried to understand how the system worked, but remained bewildered. Jerry, an engineer for the Wyoming Highway Department, said, "If this mess works, you could get a job in the hydrology department any day."
My trees survived except where I failed to provide shade during their first weeks. When I couldn't write another line, I would walk the winding hoses, carrying duct tape and pieces of hose, patching leaks that weren't watering trees, or that were drawing too much water. Once or twice I wound the tape around myself, the dog, the hose, and the waist-high grass, and had to cut us all loose. Collapsing in helpless laughter didn't stop the leaks, but it did me good.
--from
Land Circle: Writings Collected on the Land
Part II, “In Defense of the Common Sunflower” (page 203)
published by Fulcrum Publishing, 1991, Anniversary Edition 2008
Linda in the juniper tree windbreak, 2008
(photo by Jerry Ellerman, PE)
Linda writes:
It seemed fitting to show the same juniper tree windbreak in the updated author photo that appears in the Anniversary Edition of
Land Circle.
The photo in the back of the book is printed in black and white. As you can see by how very green it is in the photos here on the website, 2008 was an exceptional year for moisture, following an eight-year drought that killed a handful of trees in my various windbreaks.
I may have to bring out the hoses and duct tape.
# # #
I build a monument to each tree. I mark this windbreak I've planted during my temporary life, creating shelter for the temporary grouse and mice that share this place with me, all of us gone before these stones. If the stones disappear under asphalt, the spirits of the land will still be here.
--from
Land Circle: Writings Collected on the Land
Part I, “Rock Lover” (page 100)
published by Fulcrum Publishing, 1991, Anniversary Edition 2008
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