Review by Carley Jones
I could spend forever reading and reviewing books pumped out by ECO Herpetological Distribution and Publishing. They are, for the most part, light, happy and a great way to start the day if you read before doing anything else, like myself. It’s such a gift to be reading the words of Bill Love. There are/were so many incredible people who influenced the reptile industry who don’t have any interest in putting their thoughts and experiences on paper. Some of them just didn’t get the chance to nor took the time. Reading books by people I admire makes them so much more approachable in the real world. My hands will still be gross and sweaty if I ever get to meet the Loves, but at least I won’t be unable to squeak out a greeting like the first time I met a few of my favorite breeders.
Bill is a delightfully off-the-wall and explicit writer. His paragraphs are injected with as much humor I can only assume he lives his everyday life with. When I laughed out loud reading “I was young, dumb and full of cu…” I felt like I was talking with a friend. Let’s cut down to brass tax here, all herp freaks are perverts and we know it.
The flow of writing is pleasant and effortless as Bill segways from one story to the next, one chapter to the next, until you realize in a single sitting you’ve been reading for an hour and a half. He isn’t afraid to bounce around the timelines of his life but doesn’t confuse the reader by doing so without a clear point of launching into the next adventure. There’s chaos but with rhyme and reason. I like it.
This book covers almost everything herpers and keepers want to read about. Adventures both in and out of the states, the trials and rewards of starting your own business, memorable moments with friends and a few not-friends. Bill is unapologetic in his inclusions with changes he’d like to see in the world as well as owning up to pretty stupid mistakes he’s made in the past. To err is human, and Bill’s style of writing helps us readers relate to their own embarrassing moments in the hobby that we wish we could take back. Somewhere out there is a recording of me, drunk as a skunk (this was before I quit drinking), being loud and giggling stupidly. A million apologies again to my dear herp buddies who had to suffer me that weekend, and thank you for having mercy on me and withholding that audio lest I be forced to Wheeler myself off the edge of the Grand Canyon. Happy reading!
