Book Festivals, Royalties, and Other Author Things

Here at the end of September, I am gearing up for the Heartland Book Festival in Kansas City, Missouri, on Saturday, October 11. With your help, we can recruit a legion of new bugwatchers, and change how we relate to other species, and each other. Allow me to let you in on upcoming events, and some secrets of the author profession that might surprise you.

Got my poster, courtesy of Poor Richard's here in Leavenworth, Kansas.

I cannot tell you how excited and honored I am to be participating as a vendor in the Heartland Book Festival. I will be one of only twenty-five authors selected from over two hundred applicants. This is perhaps the first time I have truly felt like a professional writer and author. I am hoping that this is only the beginning. Please recommend to me, in the comments, other book festivals that you have enjoyed, where nonfiction authors are celebrated alongside the novelists.

Speaking engagements are another way for authors to get traction in the marketplace. I will be presenting a talk on spiders for Topeka Audubon the evening of October 7, then another bugwatching presentation for Gardeners Connect on November 11 in Kansas City, Missouri.

There are already dates taken up on my 2026 calendar, too. On January 8, I will be presenting a webinar for Smithsonian Associates. I will announce when tickets go on sale. February 10, 2026, you will find me at the Plan it Native Landscapes Conference in Kansas City, Missouri, where I will present “Beyond Bees and Butterflies: Embracing and Conserving Local Insects.” After that program, I am open to invitations for any other events you may want to suggest.

There is a persistent myth that authors earn much of their living from royalties on sales of their books. This may be true for Stephen King, but certainly not for those of us in niche markets like natural history. What usually happens is that the publisher pays an author a cash advance to begin the book, maybe another once the manuscript is completed, and perhaps another once the book goes on the market. Ideally, brisk sales quickly make up for the advances and the book breaks even. Only after that point do royalties start producing positive numbers. None of my books, to this point, have produced royalties. That is not uncommon, but there is no reason we can’t buck that trend. How do we do that?

Much as I loathe Amazon, the retail giant, posting positive reader reviews there can boost sales considerably. The same can be said for Goodreads, and other such platforms. Book reviews in magazines, newspapers, blogs, podcasts, and social media are also helpful. Thank you for considering.

Invitations to do book signings, or present at conferences and meetings, are always welcome. Obviously, remote, virtual appearances are easiest at this time, when airline travel is undependable at best, Covid is making a resurgence, and clubs and organizations are facing financial hardship due to cuts in federal grants and other sources of funding. That said, if I can string together more than a couple of engagements in any given city, or small region, I will certainly entertain in-person events.

Thank you for all of your moral support, book purchases, in-kind donations, and other help to this point. I hope that I am doing right by you, and that I get the chance to express my appreciation in person at some point.

Book Review: The Cicadas of North America

Chris Alice Kratzer begins her new book with a deeply personal memory and dedication, then proceeds to deliver another comprehensive treatment of a common, yet complex, category of insects: cicadas. The book is the second for Kratzer, whose debut work was The Social Wasps of North America. With memories of this spring’s periodical cicada event still fresh in the public mind, this book could easily eclipse the wasp book in popularity, but both volumes deserve your attention.

The Cicadas of North America is essentially a monograph of all members of the family Cicadidae found north of South America. The scientific community should certainly respect it as such. If this sounds intimidating for non-scientists, you need not fear. Kratzer is a master science communicator, with sincere empathy for those of us who avoided hardcore subjects in high school and college.

Part of the genius in her approach is that she is self-publishing through Owfly Publishing, a subsidiary of her company Owlfly, LLC. This allows her to set her own limits, if any, and prioritize what she sees as most important for her audience. She takes creative license that serves to enhance the readability and overall presentation of the book. The digital artwork alone is enough to recommend the book, but wait, there is more.

Kratzer’s trademark continues to be exceptionally thorough coverage of background information on life cycle, anatomy, evolution, classification, ecological relationships, and impacts on humanity, both positive and negative, past and present. Even if cicadas are not your favorite insect (but really, why are they not?), you will find yourself referring to the front of the book for understandable explanations of genetics, taxonomy, and other scientific concepts that apply broadly across all organisms.

Once again, Kratzer expands her region of focus to include Latin America as, ideally, all such manuals should in the interest of geographic accuracy that respects biomes but not borders. This might be the final nudge I need to renew my passport. I mean, look at that Sparse Emerald Cicada, Zammara smaragdula. A turquoise cicada (it is on the cover, too)?

Each digital rendering is split from left to right to show the degree of variation in color, density of markings, and other morphological features to help identify a specimen of either form. Some species are treated twice if they exhibit strong regional differences, with corresponding range maps delineating their geographic distribution. Everyone contributing reference photos, and community science records resulting from those images, is acknowledged on each species page.

If you are a stickler for minute details, and/or get hooked on studying cicadas yourself, the “taxonomic notes” in the back of the book give you the most current assessment of the standing of various species. Kratzer readily admits that what is in the book could be wrong, but there is no argument as to how much is completely unknown to anyone, at least in the community of Western scientists. The book is thus both a treatise and a booster designed to ignite further research.

If I sound like a paid shill, or an infomercial, I hope I can be forgiven for my enthusiasm for a quality example of natural history literature. Meanwhile, I hope Kratzer continues turning out more such references for whatever creatures catch her fancy. I’m subscribed to the Owlfly newsletter, so I should be among the first to know.

The Cicadas of North America is a hefty 573 pages, retails for $27.99 U.S., from the publisher, and is shipped in sustainable packaging from EcoEnclose. You can request a signed copy when you order.

Book Review: Insectorama

One of the benefits of having written one or more books is that as an author you are then presented with opportunities to review proposals, manuscripts, and published books by other writers in your realm of expertise. The most recent book to cross my desk in this way is Insectorama: The Marvelous World of Insects, by Lisa Voisard. I could not be more favorably impressed.

Insectorama is promoted as a juvenile literature, and it won the JP Redouté Children’s Book Prize. It is a substantial work of 224 pages, suitable for adults, too. It is as close to a perfect introduction to insects, and their place in habitats, ecosystems, and human enterprise and culture, as I can imagine. The “North American edition” is what I received, a translation from the original French version featuring a European focus. The book is divided into three parts, beginning with a series of portraits of over eighty common insect species found in North America. The second part invites the reader to “Go on, take a closer look!” The third section presents several topics related to the life of insects, their enemies, why insects are disappearing, and how we can mitigate insect decline.

Voisard’s unique and stunning illustrations define the entire work. The renderings are bold and deceptively basic, without sacrificing much in the way of accuracy and detail. Food plants, prey, life cycles, and other context are presented, along with icons for the order the insect is classified under, the time of day the creature is active, and the habitat it occupies.

The only obvious mistake that I found was that the pupa stage, in every species depicted that has complete metamorphosis, was labeled as “nymph.” I suspect this is an error in translation from the French, not a fact-checking oversight. Entomologist Mathilde Gaudrea vetted the text, in fact, along with other experts.

The layout of the book remains its greatest strength. Every page, or every other page, is a different earthtone color, warm and inviting. The contrast with the insect depicted is therefore not stark and overwhelming. You are invited into the life of the creature, the flowers it visits, the aquatic realm it lives in, or the place it perches.

My admiration for this work extends to the marketing campaign surrounding it. I learned of the book from Izzy Krause at Myrick Marketing & Media, LLC, working for its client, Helvetiq Publishing, that produced this North American version. The blurb sheet was well done summary of the book and its mission to stimulate readers to view insects in a new and fascinating light.

By sheer coincidence, I am at work on a book that aims to achieve similar outcomes in recruiting new “bugwatchers,” and Insectorama helped me greatly by reminding me of approaches to observing insects that I have long since forgotten because they have become habit. I therefore recommend this book to science translators (science communicators, sci-comm people) as a good refresher when interacting with the public.

With so much sensationalized news, and misinformation about insects in this day and age, it is a delight to find a vehicle with a more subdued approach, that still manages to evoke fascination and excitement, wrapped in a little empathy for the tentative and squeamish among us. I hope it is a blueprint for future authors of natural history books.

Insectorama retails for under $30.00 U.S. It is hardbound, and weighty. I am also likely to consider other merchandise from Lisa Voisard.

Book Review: Underbug

Termites exist at the intersection of biology, chemistry, ecology, engineering, and perhaps even philosophy. In Underbug: An Obsessive Tale of Termites and Technology, author Lisa Margonelli masterfully weaves all of these elements together, and then some. She manages to remain in that sweet spot between total participation in the story, and complete detachment, never overtaking the spotlight of her subjects, both insectian and human, but still revealing the personal impacts of where her investigations took her. She maintains empathy with the reader while taking them on a globe-trotting journey.

Underbug has more to say about humanity than you would expect in a book ostensibly about insects, let alone insects we consider economic pests. This is about where curiosity and imagination can take you. It ventures from the microscopic world of termite gut fauna to the megascopic, landscape-writing engineering of millions of diminutive members of a termite colony. How are they so successful? How can we harness their power to digest cellulose and use it to manufacture “grassoline?” What lessons exist for how to reclaim an abandoned mine and turn it back to its native grandeur?

It may be cliché to say that a book has something for everyone, but this one truly does, provided you are prone to a fascination with science, or relish contemplating the planet and our own place on it.

The book is divided into six parts, each one set off by a black-and-white illustration that gives the impression, appropriately, of a woodcut print (they are linoleum block prints by Thomas Shahan). The dust jacket has intentional holes in it, as if the book has already been “digested” by its very subject. How perfect. Margonelli manages to have a reverence for both termites and science, but never comes off as preaching or dogmatic. There is humor here and there, and the prose are descriptive enough to put you right in the center of things.

As a failed academic myself, I felt overwhelmed occasionally by the mathematics, genetics, and technological aspects of the stories (there are several), but remained captivated by the human characters and, of course, the mysteries of the insects.

Margonelli ultimately questions the accepted scientific course of the abstraction of natural processes, whether it has its limits, or if it is even a potential failing of our own species. Are we too attached to the idea that every other species, every habitat, serve us first, to justify its existence?

Without giving too much away, the conclusions reached are, as one might expect, inconclusive; for termites exist at the intersection of the known, the unknown, and the unknowable. Sometimes the biggest question for a researcher or engineer is when to give up.

Underbug was published in 2018, by Scientific American / Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York. It is 303 pages, including notes and index. This is as much an adventure book as it is a revealing glimpse into what defines science in the twenty-first century. Highly recommended.

Book Review: Flower Bugs

I must preface this review by stating that the author, Angella Moorehouse, and publisher, Heather Holm, are personal friends. That is not why I am conflicted in my reaction to this book. Neither is it because I view this book as being in competition with any of my own works. We cannot have enough literature devoted to promoting public understanding and appreciation of insects. It boils down in part to my own biases and expectations. With that, you will still receive an honest appraisal.

Pollination Press, LLC produces plant-based books about insects, usually restricted to a particular geographic region. Holm's comfort zone is clearly in botany, though her prior books about bees and wasps, as they relate to flowering plants, demonstrate a command of general entomological knowledge, and dedication to thorough research. There is no question that her books deliver accurate, factual information. From my perspective, as an entomologist with little familiarity or interest in plants, I immediately see what is "missing" in terms of species, even families, because those insects are not associated with forbs.

There is a desperate need for more books that illustrate the ecological networks of different organisms, but Flower Bugs: A Guide to Flower-Associated True Bugs of the Midwest is limited to the flowers of herbaceous flowering plants, and almost exclusively those true bugs that may play a role in pollination, or those species that frequent flowers as a place to ambush other pollinators. The territory covered is eight states (Illinois, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Missouri, Michigan, Indian, and Ohio), and adjacent southern Ontario, Canada. The book is in fact based mostly on a detailed survey of locations in western and central Illinois, over a period of seven years.

The true bugs treated are further restricted to the suborder Heteroptera, which includes the larger, more obvious examples like stink bugs, assassin bugs, mirid plant bugs, and seed bugs, but leaves out the families of aquatic bugs, plus the other two suborders that include cicadas, leafhoppers, spittlebugs, and aphids. All of these specifics are stated explicitly in the introduction of the book.

The layout of Flower Bugs includes the trademark features of Pollination Press' other books: prolific and quality imagery, geographic range maps, seasonal distribution bars showing what months the adult insect is present, tables of plant species associated with each insect species addressed, diagrams of taxonomic relationships, a glossary, checklists, and a visual index.

The front matter of the book is, as usual for this press, presented to near perfection in degree of detail, and coverage of morphology and ecology. It is an excellent introduction to true bugs as a whole, for the intended audience of native plant gardeners, naturalists, resource management personnel, and others.

The species accounts cover the overall geographic range, variation in physical appearance, life cycle, feeding, habitat, and native plant associations. The images are occasionally redundant, but frequently include photos of the immature stages, which most field guides fail to do. In cases of the mirid plant bugs, assassin bugs, and other families for which there are few flower associates, there are photos of other species for comparison, and to better indicate the full diversity of these groups. Given the lack of any other contemporary guides to true bugs, this gesture is appreciated.

The last book to cover the true bugs for a popular audience was probably Bugs of the World, by George C. McGavin, published in 1993 and 1999 by Blandford, an imprint of Cassell, in London. Back then, the true bugs were classified much differently. In 1978, How to Know the True Bugs, by James A. Slater and Richard M. Baranowski, was published by Wm. C. Brown Company Publishers in Dubuque, Iowa, as part of their "Pictured Key Nature Series." That reference also covered the suborder Heteroptera, but assumed the user had a pinned specimen and a microscope at hand.

The fact that Flower Bugs is the most up-to-date popular reference to North American Heteroptera, no matter how limited the scope, is enough to recommend it. You will no doubt find yourself stalking the true bugs in your own yard, neighborhood park, or other favorite habitat. You can be confident that this book will provide you with an accurate ecological perspective, and interpretation of the behaviors of these insects.

Book Review: Spiders of North America

It is “Spider Sunday” on this blog, so what better to post than a rave review of the newest spider identification resource, the Princeton Field Guide to Spiders of North America, by Sarah Rose. Yes, I wrote the foreword for this book, but I guarantee that this is an unbiased review. There is far more to recommend this book than my mere two cents at its beginning.

Spiders have faced an uphill battle in the widespread appreciation of these arachnids, in part due to few easily available, and easily affordable, resources for non-scientists. The most reasonably priced books are either outdated, full of errors such as mislabeled images, or both. Until now, the only current guides to spiders have been regional in nature (California and the Pacific coast, for example), or so expensive, and/or scientifically technical, as to discourage their purchase.

Finally, we have a true field guide, organized in a manner that respects the scientific terminology, and understands the limits of macrophotography, and facilitates the identification of many spiders by non-scholars.

One example of Rose’s innovative approaches is her color-coding of spider eyes. The eye arrangement of a given specimen is often key to its identification, but if you do not understand the jargon of “posterior median eyes,” or “anterior lateral eyes,” you are left spinning your wheels, if not throwing the book in the garbage. By associating the different pairs of eyes with different colors, it allows the user to make quick assessments of the creature they have in hand. The only drawback would come if you happen to be colorblind, and that is a consideration few, if any, publishers take into account.

Another way that the author organizes her book is by “guilds,” a term that in this case means the hunting lifestyle of the spider. Some spiders build two-dimensional sheet webs or orb webs, while others are “space web weavers” in three dimensions. Still others are ambush hunters or “ground active hunters.” This works well except maybe for mature male web-weaving spiders that leave their snares to look for mates, but the combinations of characteristics highlighted for each family of spiders overcomes those hurdles.

Each species entry in the book includes a range map, and verified state records. Our collective knowledge of spider distribution is relatively weak, and spiders excel at hitching rides on commerce and vehicles and other belongings, ending up far from their “normal” ranges, but here you have a good reference point for assessing the identity of most spiders you will encounter.

The images in the book are of living individuals, so all the colors and shapes are undistorted. Usually there is more than one image, to illustrate the dorsal (top) and ventral (underside) of the spider, and the color variations that the species might exhibit. Additionally, webs, egg sacs, and young spiders may be depicted, the better to demonstrate the full range of a species’ appearance and lifestyle.

The first part of this field guide provides an excellent overview of spider anatomy and biology, gives a brief and effective lesson in how spiders, and all organisms, are classified, and shares tips for observing spiders safely, ensuring that both you and the arachnid will be unharmed. Need to know the benefits of having spiders around? They’re in there. How do spiders fit into the larger picture of ecosystems? That information is also included. Did I mention there is an illustrated glossary in the back? Additional references are listed in the bibliography.

Before I end, I must offer an apology to all of you. This reference should have been available much sooner. I was the original author contracted to write this guide. It soon became apparent to me that I was not qualified to execute the project. Unfortunately, I procrastinated in disclosing that to the publisher. The least I could do was recommend a replacement, and I could not be more delighted that Sarah Rose agreed. This is a far better book than anything I could have written. If you have even a smidgen of curiosity about spiders, this reference will ignite it into a flame of passion. All the common species are in there, plus ones that you will see and say “Oh, I have got to find one of these!” Happy spider seeking, friends.

Why I am Reviewing The Trayvon Generation in a “Bug Blog”

I have been accused of being “political” even in some of the entomology posts in this blog, but there is nothing political about human rights. It is my opinion that there will be no abatement of the “insect apocalypse,” no permanent success in the conservation of endangered species of any kind, until we save our own species from racism and other forms of bigotry afflicting people of color, women, agender persons, the LGBTQ population, the disabled, the neurodivergent…..

The list of persecuted Homo sapiens continues to grow thanks to colonialism, patriarchy, white supremacy, religious extremism, extreme capitalism, ableism, and the inertia of assumptions. Because of this, what is inappropriate is to exclude discussions on these urgent matters from any forum, no matter how “off topic” it might appear at first glance. It is relevant to every facet of our lives, every profession, and every pursuit.

Elizabeth Alexander is a critically-acclaimed author, poet, educator, and scholar. Her book, The Trayvon Generation (Grand Central Publishing, 2022), is a must read. It is short, at only 130 pages, so there is no excuse for even the slowest reader like me to not get through it in a timely manner. It is not a rehashing of the Black history that whites already think they know. It is deeply personal, and highly illuminating.

Alexander draws on the works of other Black scholars, writers, and artists to literally and figuratively illustrate her points throughout the three-part text. The images of these creators, and the images created by Alexander’s eloquent prose, are moving, haunting, and indelible.

One chapter is entitled “whether the negro sheds tears.” The question, asked of the Black scholar W.E.B. Du Bois in 1905 by a (presumably white) researcher, parallels another query I addressed here previously: “Do Insects Feel Pain?” The implication of the question is similar to what Alexander concludes about questions of Black emotional expression:

”Are Black people human? Do Black people do what people do. Are Black people people. If Black people are not people and do not cry, then they do not experience pain, or grief, or trauma, or shock, or sorrow. If Black people do not experience pain, or grief, or trauma, or shock , or sorrow, are they human? And if they are not human, can their continued violation be justified?”

The artifice of race cannot stand, but Alexander allows for you to come to that conclusion. She demonstrates how even she herself once experienced the “shock of delayed comprehension” at the normality of white supremacy and expectation of Black servitude in the form of a painting of Elihu Yale with this Servant, hung prominently in the Corporation Room at that Ivy League university where she worked. She had failed to previously notice the servant in the painting, or mentally censored the offensive nature of the portrait.

Many such examples abound in our daily lives but we have been conditioned to accept them as normal, as acceptable. Recognition of artworks depicting white supremacy, hostile government and business policies, mass incarceration, wage gaps, and other obscene transgressions against people of color is what is met with anger and outrage by people who stand to lose power.

I care not one whit if I lose “followers” as a result of urging you to pick up The Trayvon Generation and begin a journey toward true humanity that embraces all beings, and takes action to make it so. Imagine the heights to which our species could climb were we to extend white privilege to all ends of the human spectrum.

Book Review: The Social Wasps of North America

Chris Alice Kratzer’s new guide to The Social Wasps of North America stands to revolutionize the future of field guides. It certainly sets a new standard in many ways, through methodology, organization, and sheer honesty. It is my pleasure to recommend this wonderful reference without reservation.

This is a self-published book from Owlfly Publishing, one arm of Kratzer’s company, Owlfly, LLC. The other branch is an engineering firm. Kratzer has not only avoided all the usual pitfalls of self-publishing, she has taken great pains to make every aspect of that enterprise respectful and sustainable, right down to her choice in the packaging vendor she uses.

Why is this book so unique and important? Perhaps the most obvious feature is the geographic coverage. Kratzer rightly defines North America as everything north of South America. Most natural history publishers, and authors, would consider that to be overly ambitious, confusing, and impossible to execute given the increased biodiversity south of the Mexican border. It helps to choose a taxon that has relatively limited diversity, and social wasps in the family Vespidae do fit the bill nicely. However, one should not overlook the statement this book makes about inclusiveness. This book is useful to indigenous peoples in those other nations, as well as people traveling from other places. A Spanish translation, in digital format, will be available by the end of 2021, but if a publishing house is interested in producing a hard copy, please contact Kratzer at Owlfly Publishing.

This book also marks a return to illustrations, rather than photographs, as the best means to visually communicate each species. Kratzer is a master of digital renderings. Social wasps are maddeningly variable in color pattern, so she ingeniously fused the most common xanthic (mostly yellow) and melanic (mostly black/dark) forms of each species into a single drawing, capitalizing on the bilateral symmetry of her subjects to do so. Brilliant. Kratzer essentially crowdsourced her references by utilizing pinned specimens from many curated collections, and images of living specimens from the iNaturalist web portal. She gives credit to every single individual who furnished the material. Unheard of. Each species account includes female and male examples, plus queens, where relevant. Range maps are included. Photos of living specimens, and their nests, are featured under descriptions of the genera.

© Owlfly LLC

The first seventy or so pages of the book serve as an introduction and overview of social wasps, their biology, role within ecosystems, and how they impact humanity. This alone is worth the price of the book. The writing is outstanding in accuracy and honesty:

“All of the information in this book is wrong. All of it. Wasps are an appallingly understudied group of organisms, to the point that even this book – the most complete visual guide of social wasp to date – is built precariously upon the edge of a vast, unsolved jigsaw puzzle.”

The grammar is impeccable, and the tone is exceptionally friendly and empathetic, even to those readers who want nothing to do with wasps. It is easy for someone with an affinity for maligned animals to be unintentionally hostile towards those who do not share the same perspective and opinions. Kratzer is going to make many more “friends of wasps” with this book. Did I mention that there is also a glossary and extensive bibliography with links to online versions of actual scientific papers?

Overall, Kratzer’s embrace and navigation of the scientific ecosystem, inclusive of both academic professionals and well-informed non-professionals, is admirable and even ground-breaking. Rarely does one find a reference or author/illustrator so worthy of emulating. Maybe David Sibley and Kenn Kaufman, but add Chris Alice Kratzer to the list.

Are wasps not your thing at all? Stay tuned for Kratzer’s next effort, a guide to North American cicadas, in the works as I write this. Meanwhile, order The Social Wasps of North America for a friend, directly from Owlfly Publishing.

Book Review: Insects & Kin of the Colorado Front Range

If you live along, or frequently visit, the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains, and are excited by this title, please curb your enthusiasm. This is the anvil you probably want to avoid: 1,104 self-published pages of “a natural history & photographic survey,” part of the lengthy subtitle. Ideally, natural history books should be “how can I help you?” exercises. This is a “look at what we did” book.

Lynn and Gene Monroe are authors of two other specific and obscure books, Desert Insects & Kin of Southern California, specific to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, and Butterflies & Their Favorite Flowering Plants, also specific to Anza-Borrego. The common theme here is the assumption that one can extrapolate to surrounding environs. On page one of Insects & Kin of the Colorado Front Range, the authors state: “The scope of this book is the Front Range region mainly in Boulder and Larimer Counties and east of the Continental Divide….However, the insects and their kin that are considered here would be expected to also be found elsewhere along the Front Range….” As one who has lived in Colorado Springs and explored farther south, I can say with some authority this is simply not true. Even residents of Denver are not fully served.

A number of common and/or eye-catching species, especially among the beetles, are absent from this book because they were not found by the Monroes at their favorite sites, most of which appear to be outdoor recreation destinations and other sites they visited regularly.

Pam Piombino is the contributing photographer to this project, and the book is lavishly illustrated. Unfortunately, that translates to “many images are redundant.” Further, the print quality is inconsistent in its ability to bring out fully the details in the images. Many images are too dark to be of much value. Some images of very small insects are out of focus, or appear to be.

The organization of the book is somewhat haphazard, in that material one would expect in the front of the book is instead part of the back matter. There are some spelling and grammatical errors. Eight insect orders are covered in depth, the remainder not given their due. Under the discussion of the jumping plant lice (psyllids), there is an image of a barklouse, an insect in a completely different order. Such obvious errors, however few, make an entire work suspect.

Because there are so few popular, contemporary treatments of insects and other invertebrates, it pains me to be writing a poor review of this one. Certainly, it is not wholly without merit, and could serve as a solid, if slightly unwieldly, introduction to Rocky Mountain fauna. Overall, however, the impression one gets is that this is a book of privilege, literally born in retirement by authors who can afford to live away from the urban and suburban centers composed of the people they should consider to be their audience. That is not to say that I do not respect and admire what the Monroes have accomplished, but I would sooner recommend two other works: Guide to Colorado Insects (Westcliffe Publishers, Inc., 2006) and Bagging Big Bugs (Fulcrum Publishing, 1995), both by Whitney Cranshaw and Boris Kondratieff.

The best thing about this book is that the proceeds of sales go to benefit the Granite Ridge Nature Institute in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. It is for that reason that it is a pity there were only 250 copies of Insects & Kin of the Colorado Front Range printed. Inquiries for purchase should be addressed to Lynn Monroe, lynnmon35ATgmailDOTcom.

Book Review: Wasps, by Heather Holm

That “other” wasp book, the one that is not mine? Spoiler alert: It’s good. Excellent in fact. It is tempting as a niche author to view your colleagues as competitors, but that does a disservice to the profession, and undermines the common goals of influencing public perceptions and initiating actions. This book is a fine complement to Wasps: The Astonishing Diversity of a Misunderstood Insect, and exceeds it in certain respects.

This is a surprisingly large (11 ¼ x 9 ¼ inches), heavy, hardbound volume of 415 pages, with much larger images than Holm’s previous books. Holm self-publishes through Pollination Press, LLC, and exercises great attention to detail and organization in all her works. Personally, I am not a fan of the liberal use of codes, tables and sidebars, but compared to the two other books of hers in my library, those strategies are minimized here. The book is decidedly not as “busy” in its layout as I was expecting. Considering the digital age, my minor complaint may reflect the literature I grew up with, and be out of step with contemporary audiences. The species accounts include large images labeled with key identification characters. This is an outstanding idea that is absent even from most field guides.

While I have not read the book from cover to cover, I have read enough to conclude that Holm’s research was exceedingly comprehensive, and highlights the historical role of women in contributing to our knowledge of wasp biology. She includes an extensive bibliography of her sources, plus a glossary, and her trademark “planting guide” for which native plants in your region are most attractive and beneficial to wasps and other pollinators. Holm conducted a survey of flower-visiting wasps for eastern North America via iNaturalist to crowdsource observations of pollinator associations, and also drew from other contemporary resources to complement the existing scientific literature. We need more innovative approaches like this.

There are two subtitles to Wasps. One is “A Guide for Eastern North America,” and the other is “Their Biology, Diversity, and Role as Beneficial Insects and Pollinators of Native Plants.” No matter how you define eastern North America, the contents of this book work for you. Considering Holm is from Minnesota, I was pleasantly surprised to see many wasp species from the southeast U.S. included in the book. The natural history information presented is accurate, thorough, and captivating.

There are certain limitations to Wasps. This book is driven by an interest in plants, especially native plants and how they can and should be used in landscaping. This is the overarching theme for all of Holm’s books. Consequently, wasps that do not visit flowers regularly are given only passing mention in this book. Sawflies, horntails, gall wasps, ichneumon wasps, braconid wasps, and most of the chalcidoid wasps are absent in the species accounts. All of our friends among the social wasps, the mason wasps, sand wasps, spider wasps, and their conspicuous kin, are treated in detail. You would not want a book that could double as an anvil anyway.

The bottom line is that this is an exquisite volume deserving of consideration for literary awards, and certainly worthy of inclusion in the library of all naturalists. Placing insects in the larger context of ecology and human enterprise needs to be a more common treatment across all media. Holm is a master of subtle advocacy for underdog insects, and other authors can learn from her style and presentation. Please visit the Pollinator Press website to place your order.

Book Review: In One Yard: Close to Nature Book 2

I was introduced to Warren A. Hatch several years ago by a mutual friend. He sent me a copy of the original In One Yard: Close to Nature, which I regretfully never got around to reviewing. I will not make the same mistake with Hatch’s sequel. This book has much to recommend it, no matter where you live.

Mr. Hatch resides in Portland, Oregon, USA, and every organism shown in the book was discovered on his property, the yard of which is only one-sixth of an acre. Clearly, exploring even this small an area can result in constant discovery and astonishment. A reader is going to be inspired to put the book down frequently so as to go looking for mosses, lichens, insects, arachnids, algae, and other living things right outside their door.

This “ignition switch” alone is what makes this book unique and critically important. One could consider it an exercise in vanity (the first book was self-published), but by documenting various species in depth, and showing the reader how he captured the detail and drama of each creature, it becomes a blueprint for how you can do the same. Why you should go to the trouble is self-evident in the countless, captivating images.

The text both explains the natural histories of the organism, and challenges the reader to make their own observations. The stories are an interesting and effective mix of the author’s personal experience, additional knowledge gleaned from literature and correspondence with world-renowned experts, and a periodic, friendly “Mr. Rogers” query to the reader. The author does not put himself above the reader. He defines scientific words with each use, and understands that occasional repetition is a good thing.

The first book was a large, magazine-like paperback. Book two is a smaller, hardback volume. Both are slightly “busy” in their design and layouts, and if there is any fault to the new book, it is in the literal fine print of “Extra Notes” that may be difficult for those with poor vision to easily read. The images are so overwhelming in their excellence and detail that almost anything else can be forgiven anyway.

The one thing that surprises and disappoints is that this book is flying under the public radar. Mr. Hatch’s prior works have rightly received critical acclaim from the scientific community. Hatch has produced posters and DVDs that have also garnered generous reviews; and he was elected a Fellow of the Linnean Society of London in 2003. This is an exceptional honor, as the society was founded in 1788 and has only about 2,000 members. Admirably, Hatch lives a car-free lifestyle.

In One Yard is the perfect complement to Douglas Tallamy’s books Bringing Nature Home, and Nature’s Best Hope. Hatch’s books show you exactly what can result if you cultivate native plants and make even minimal effort to observe and record. Yes, he has invested heavily in the equipment needed to produce what you see on the pages of the book, but what a payoff.

Ideally, we need more Warren Hatchs. More people should do an ongoing bioblitz of their home and property, and share the results widely through blogs, vlogs, Youtube, Instagram, and other media, if not an actual hardcopy book. Be creative. Buy this book as an inspiration and model. In One Yard: Close to Nature Book 2 is available exclusively through Wild Blueberry Media, LLC for a very reasonable $35.00 (postage paid). Don’t take my word for it, just ask Sir David Attenborough who effuses that the book is “splendid” and “it spurs me on.” When a world class, globe-trotting naturalist asks “….whether I haven’t looked at my yard with the concentration and insight that you have,” that is high praise indeed.

Book Review: Bugged Delivers a Mixed Bag

Well over a year ago, someone at St. Martin's Press contacted me by e-mail asking me to review David MacNeal's latest effort, Bugged: The Insects Who Rule the World and the People Obsessed with Them (2017, St. Martin's Press, 297 pp). They would hardly take no for an answer, sent me an advance uncorrected page proof, and so finally, here is my assessment, colored by the circumstances of my receipt of the book, my lack of familiarity with MacNeal's previous works, and my personal biases, which I will reveal honestly.

First, my sincerest compliments to the author for his most thorough research, his diligent reading of numerous books and scientific papers, and in-person visits with the human subjects highlighted in Bugged. Whatever shortcomings the book may have, the foundation it was built on is as solid as they come. Additionally, I can say that in my opinion the book gets markedly better the farther the reader gets into it. Unfortunately, I found the first one-third to two-thirds of the book to be an exercise in the author's ego, perhaps due to my own peculiar style that I prefer to write in, and the approach to the subject that I would rather read.

The chapters reflect an overall theme that I am personally averse to: that in order to validate their existence, all non-human organisms must prove they have an economic value to humanity.

MacNeal may simply be trying too hard in the first chapters to convince the reader that he is edgy, funny, irreverent, intellectual, and jet-setting. It comes off as self-centered in my opinion, and aimed more toward those who value shock-and-awe prose. I prefer that an author remove themselves as much as possible from non-fiction, save for memoirs and autobiographies. I personally try to get out of the way of the story when I am writing myself, unless my direct experience is the story. I see no need for profanity ever, not because I am opposed to it, but because I think it can be a distraction if not a detraction from the rest of the words used. I do not try and paint myself as intellectually superior by throwing around words and phrases from foreign languages.

The choice of categories that define the chapters was predictable: Insect specimens as novel merchandise, social insects as a parallel to human societies, insect and spider sex lives, insects as disease-carriers, the pest control industry, insects in forensic science, insects and other arthropods as the source of inventions and advancement of technology, insects as live entertainment in Asia, entomophagy (intentional human consumption of insects as food), and honey bees as perhaps the most important of all insects (to mankind).

The chapters reflect an overall theme that I am personally averse to: that in order to validate their existence, all non-human organisms must prove they have an economic value to humanity. Maybe MacNeal recognizes this and is planning a sequel that will visit topics like endangered insects and the people working to save them, the economic impact of "ecological services" provided by insects and related invertebrates, and the myriad of citizen science projects available for his readers to participate in and become active contributors to science instead of passively entertained by his books. MacNeal does give a nod to ecological services, as almost literally a footnote (another aspect of books that I find distracting and mildly irritating); and he lists a few conservation organizations in the acknowledgements at the end of the book.

The bottom line is that I am glad the book was written, but I would have preferred that someone else had written it. If you enjoy this brand of storytelling that focuses on both insects and people, you may be better off reading works by Richard Conniff or Sue Hubbell.

Does MacNeal succeed in recruiting a new generation of entomology-appreciators? Hard to say. I think it takes actual in-person engagement with scientists to achieve that, and I hope that Bugged encourages readers to take that next, crucial step toward a better understanding of invertebrates in general, and an appreciation of those people, not the eccentrics you presume them to be, who make a living in the science of entomology.

Book Review: Hidden Kingdom is More Than "Eye Candy"

The latest offering from scientist, author, and photographer extraordinaire Piotr Naskrecki is sure to surprise and delight even the most seasoned tropical naturalist, student of entomology, and globe-trotting eco-traveler. Hidden Kingdom: The Insect Life of Costa Rica (Comstock Publishing Associates, Cornell University Press, 2017) represents one of the best introductions to arthropods in general, regardless of the geographic limitations noted in the title.

The centerpiece of this book, like his previous works, the critically acclaimed The Smaller Majority and Relics: Travels in Nature's Time Machine, is Naskrecki's mind-blowing imagery of creatures easily overlooked in the natural landscape. He literally renders his subjects larger than life, but then explains how the impact of these invertebrates far exceeds their diminutive stature. So, the magnified macro-world in pictures is simply a reflection of the unheralded, underestimated import of insects, spiders, other arachnids, and crustaceans to the rest of life on Earth. He further communicates this with clear, assertive prose that elevate any reader's understanding of the natural world.

The organization of the book makes it all the more inviting to those who might be unfamiliar with insects (the first chapter asks "What is This?"), or even downright afraid of them. He addresses the intimidation factor head-on in the chapter "Is it Dangerous?" He deftly explains why appearances like "Horns, Spines, and Claws" can be deceiving, but tiny sand flies and mosquitoes can put you in the hospital because of the tinier-still parasitic microbes that they inject when they bite you.

Remaining chapters discuss how insects survive through camouflage, chemical defenses, advertisement of those chemical defenses, and mimicry of other species with chemical defenses, as well as how insects communicate and how those devices for talking to each other allowed some insects to ascend to the truest societies in the animal kingdom.

Scientific terms are generally explained in context, with their first usage in the text, though the book might still have benefited by a glossary, even in place of the index. Some of the taxonomy (scientific classification) differs from what I have come to know, but there exist differences even in scientific circles and these discrepancies cannot be considered errors. Yes, there are a couple of grammatical errors, but I have yet to read a contemporary book without any.

Naskrecki refrains from preaching about the imperiled ecosystem that is tropical forests, and considering that he no doubt witnesses deforestation and other destructive practices every time he goes afield, this restraint is admirable and refreshing. If anyone ever asks "what's the big deal" if we cut down the Amazon, hand them a copy of Hidden Kingdom and ask them to get back to you. This book is a testament to exactly what is at stake for not just the healthy functioning of our planet, but for the future of advances in medicine and other human endeavors.

I would not hesitate to recommend Hidden Kingdom as a textbook for any college-level introductory entomology course. The initial chapter alone informs all the major orders of insects, independent of Costa Rica; but, those professors who teach classes in tropical natural history would do well to assign this book in advance of field trips to the New World rainforests, and dry forests.

Naskrecki has made advances in tropical biology of a magnitude comparable to Darwin, Wallace, and other heroic naturalists of a bygone era. One can scarcely believe that Piotr has the time to write and illustrate books, share his findings on social media (Facebook in particular), lead film crews into the forest (PBS Nature's six-part "Gorongosa Park: Rebirth of Paradise"), or mentor other photographers (BugShot macrophotography workshops), but he accomplishes all of this and more. His is a brilliant mind and generous spirit that are a rare combination. Naskrecki is without question one of the most publicly accessible scientists of our time, even considering that the digital age makes nearly everyone "followable."

Hidden Kingdom is a paperback book of 208 pages. Forgive the awkward dimensions (10 X 10 inches), as it dramatically amplifies the impact of the magnificent photos. Reward and promote excellence in science and art by treating yourself, your family, and friends to a copy of this most outstanding reference.

Book Review: Dr. Eleanor's Book of Common Spiders

One resource that has been missing from the recent explosion of spider-related material coming from various publishers has been a book aimed squarely at the average homeowner or gardener with something other than an all-consuming passion for arachnids. "Dr. Eleanor" to the rescue with Dr. Eleanor's Book of Common Spiders (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. 2018. 96 pp.).

Eleanor Spicer Rice, who already has several related titles under her belt, mostly about ants, has teamed up with Chris Buddle to deliver a nicely organized, thoroughly researched book on the spider species that the public most often asks about. You know, the eight-legged critter crawling across the kitchen floor, the infamous "shower spider," and the ones you always see in the (insert shed, basement, garage, or other appropriate venue).

The authors treat their subjects with accuracy, clarity, and brevity, while still managing to cultivate the same sense of fascination in the reader that they, as scientists and writers, have already found for themselves. This is no small feat. There is a dash of humor here and there as well, and they are not above poking fun at themselves. Color photographs, mostly by Sean McCann, complement the lively text and enhance the impact of the book. Whether arachnophobes will reach for it on the bookstore shelf, or over the online vendors remains to be seen. I hope they do.

Even if the book were a complete failure otherwise, it would bear recommending for this passage alone:

"Striped lynx spiders prefer biding their time in agricultural fields. When we plant our crops with only one or two types of plant per field, we humans essentially sow arthropod grocery superstores. In nature, any given species of plant is often mixed in with other plant species and so bugs that like a particular plant species may need to search to find the plansts they like. As a result, only a limited number of bugs can live in an area. It's like living in a town with a gas station-sized grocery store. In our human-planted superstores, however, tons of insects that like our crops can move into the giant all-you-can-eat buffet of a farm, filled with only their favorite foods. These insects become agricultural pests, gobbling up billions of dollars' worth of food we grow for ourselves each year."

Exactly. I have said the same thing myself in my own publications, about how humans are responsible for creating their own insect pests. Further, all the crop plants are equally vulnerable because they have identical genetics. Not so in nature. Watch a butterfly laying eggs. She won't oviposit on every plant; only on those a little weaker in their chemical defenses.

My only quibbles with the book stem mostly from the fact that I am a writer, too. There were a couple of bad word choices, but I see worse errors in other books. There was one implied assertion that is incorrect, however. In the Frequently Asked Questions part of the back matter, one FAQ concerns whether all spiders are venomous. The authors indicate they are. This is not true. Spiders in the family Uloboridae, common in North America, lack venom glands. Lastly, there are some common English names for certain spider species or genera that were apparently created just for this book. There is no such thing as a "Ceiling Spider," even though I would endorse that name for Cheiracanthium species because that is exactly where you encounter them.

Enough nit-picking. The "up sides" of this handy volume are much more numerous. It is a paperback, and of a size that is large enough to not lose easily in a stack of other books, and comfortable to handle for those of us who are all thumbs. Again, the text is a joy to read. Spicer and Buddle manage to give each spider a personality that reflects its biology. This style comes close to anthropomorphism, but I am all in favor of whatever it takes to win more arachnophiles. Spiders need all the friends they can get in Humanland.

One of my measures of the goodness of a book like this is whether it teaches me, a longtime naturalist, something new. This book did that, in spades. I love being surprised with new knowledge, and with that I heartily recommend Dr. Eleanor's Book of Common Spiders.

Book Review: Never Out of Season

Rob Dunn grabs your attention right out of the gate in his book Never Out of Season (Little, Brown and Company, 2017, 323 pp). Our monotonous diet, and utter lack of crop diversity is not just stunning, it is frightening. The book's subtitle, How Having the Food We Want When We Want It Threatens Our Food Supply and Our Future, is a bit misleading. First, that applies mostly to Western cultures which are affluent enough to import fruits and vegetables from other parts of the world, continually. To his credit, Dunn addresses global agriculture and food security, going out of his way not to ignore Third World nations, poverty, war, and other factors that influence the ability of countries to feed themselves, let alone the rest of the world.

Indeed, Dunn's historical accounts demonstrate how time and time again human populations has been on the brink of starvation, yet are bailed out by individuals and organizations on the far side of the globe. It has been Russians and others who have had the foresight to save seeds in banks and vaults, preserving crop diversity even at their own personal peril. Meanwhile, governments and industries have blissfully ignored the lessons furnished by famines and crop failures.

Never Out of Season is in many ways a real-life thriller, but the reader is largely left to draw their own conclusions as to who the villains are. There are plenty of victims and heroes, but aside from a small group of henchmen who sabotaged a cocoa tree plantation by deliberately infecting trees with a fungal disease known as witches'- broom, few criminals. At least, they do not have overtly hostile intentions. The problem is, overwhelmingly, neglect, plus failure to learn from history and failure to properly invest in efforts necessary to avert future calamities.

The progress of the Green Revolution creates the narrative arc, from its beginnings around World War II through present day. Humanity quickly became dependent on pesticides, fertilizers, and other chemicals to increase crop yields and exploit marginal soils. From there, agriculture scaled up, and today it is largely the province of multinational corporations with a primary agenda of profit and patent protection over feeding people. Consumers are left with increasingly processed foods in the supermarket, the illusion of choice, poorer nutrition, and a widening disconnect with farmers. Dunn is less simple and direct in his presentation of the state of agriculture, and how we got here, but is captivating, entertaining, and educational in his language. His research is exhaustive and beyond reproach. The end notes take up forty-six (46) pages.

Readers looking for an unequivocal indictment of industrialized agriculture will have to search elsewhere. Never Out of Season presents a series of cautionary tales that inform, enlighten, and serve as examples of the kinds of catastrophes we are in for if we continue to devalue genetic diversity in our food crops. Genetically Modified Organisms (GMOs) are not painted as evil here, but powerful tools that can help advance agriculture provided we do not become as addicted to them as we did to pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, and phosphate fertilizers.

Dunn also offers hope at the end of the book, successfully energizing and empowering the reader to plant their own yards with vegetables and fruit trees, join in citizen science projects to enhance our collective understanding of agricultural ecology, and to purchase from local farmers those foods they cannot grow. The variety of approaches to agriculture is beginning to diversify, which is a positive trend, but it remains to be seen whether agri-business will respond favorably, or seek to bury smaller entities under patent-infringement lawsuits and other legal strategies.

Paul Ehrlich, in his own endorsement, states that "Everyone who eats should read Never Out of Season. This reviewer could not agree more. Even fans of fiction would be hard-pressed to find a more compelling page-turner replete with colorful and heroic characters, and an ending that only we, the reader, can finish by holding our leaders accountable for funding priorities, environmental regulation, making conservation of heritage seeds an overriding concern, and bolstering consumer protections. We can also shop smarter and grow our own.

Book Review: What Are You Doing Up There, You Spider?

It takes a special kind of parent to turn their child's experiences and perspective into a book for other children and their parents, but Peter O'Brien succeeds with the 26-page book What Are You Doing Up There, You Spider?. Together with illustrator Carlo Sitaro, he delivers a captivating story that also introduces children to spider biology and behavior.

I know Peter's wife, Louise Lynch, and when she approached me to have a look at the book I was a bit skeptical. Peter is best known for excellence in filmmaking, including directing, but I was not familiar with his writing skills. If this children's book is any indication, he is an exceptionally versatile creative person. The story is true right down to the speech patterns of young children. I initially found the book title awkward, and I kept omitting the second "you" in the title when I read it; but that is exactly how children talk, and I could easily imagine each encounter of the human character, Liam, with the spider.

The rhyming style of the text is sophisticated and sometimes oblique, which I find refreshing. The author clearly assumes his audience is up to the challenge, and does not "dumb down" the prose and poetry. This book achieves both vocabulary lessons and cultivates an appreciation of spiders, even indoors where they are generally not welcome. The book inspires curiosity and observation, admirable qualities in human beings of any age. Parents will learn as much as their children from this book.

Liam is inspired by a real-life Liam, nephew to Louise, and I suspect that the fictional character is true to his living inspiration. I see a little of myself in Liam, too, from when I was a curious child.

Juvenile literature about natural history subjects is too often fraught with errors, or presented in a less-than-enthralling manner, or both. This is a unique introduction to arachnids in story form that will not frighten children, but encourage them to seek their own discoveries.

What Are You Doing Up There, You Spider? is available in paper for $9.95 U.S. through Create Space; and also through Amazon for an electronic Kindle copy.

Book Review: Silent Sparks

Sara Lewis won me over from the very beginning of her book Silent Sparks: The Wondrous World of Fireflies, then kept me captivated right through to the "Notes" in the back. This offering from Princeton University Press is literally the gift that keeps on giving. More on that in a moment, but prepare to be dazzled and amazed in the meantime.

The thing that got my attention right away occurred in the preface. Dr. Lewis writes "Confessions of a Scientist Enraptured," and strikes a chord with the major reason I dropped out of college:

"And I've tried hard to retain my sense of wonder. But wonder, it turns out, doesn't garner much respect within the realm of academic science. We academics are rewarded for our scholarly productivity----getting research grants and writing technical articles that report our discoveries. Few scientists openly admit to being motivated by wonder. By some unspoken rule, a scientist's feeling of awe for the natural world must be kept under wraps; to acknowledge wonder is tantamount to unreason, and therefore treason."

The fact that Lewis is able to not only maintain her own sense of wonder, but actively spark it in her readers, is the whole heart of this book.

Photinus sp. firefly on a farm

Lewis does not talk over the head of her audience, but neither does she talk down to non-scientists. There is a glossary in the back of the book, but she defines technical terms the first time she uses them in the text. While the book is not lavishly illustrated, her words paint vivid pictures on the pages that lack graphics. You are transported to the dewy meadow at midnight, and the laboratory back on campus. You gaze with new perspective off the back porch at your own lawn; and travel to far-off lands to witness synchronous spectacles that defy your imagination.

Photuris sp. firefly

You also meet a number of Lewis' colleagues and mentors, and get a feel for who they are and what motivates them to study fireflies. It would be easy to go overboard and focus mostly on the human element in the story of any invertebrate, as many authors do (Sue Hubbell, Richard Conniff for example), but Lewis recognizes the ability of organisms to be sufficiently captivating in their own right, and retains focus on the fireflies, not the scientists studying them. I heartily applaud this aspect of her writing.

Because fireflies are so diverse, and with few exceptions not impactful to humans in the economic sense, we consequently know very little about them. Most of the advances in our collective knowledge have come within the past couple of decades, thanks in part to our ability to deconstruct DNA sequences and reconstruct new paths of evolutionary relationships. Silent Sparks provides an outstanding summary of our history of scientific inquiry into the Lampyridae, and then encourages the reader to enlist herself or himself as a citizen scientist to expand our horizons even more. By the end of the book you will be writing the author in application to be on her lab team.

Pyropyga sp. "dark firefly"

There are few errors or omissions in this book to even bother to nit-pick, but one baffles me completely. In the chapter "A Field Guide to Common Fireflies of North America," the genus Pyropyga, one of the "dark fireflies," is inexplicably omitted entirely. Pyropyga is by far the most common firefly where I live on the Front Range of Colorado, and also in the southwest U.S., but species are found across the entire continent. I have seen them virtually every place I have ever lived.

Pyractomena sp. firefly

Ok, so how does this book keep on giving? Lewis has complemented her treatise with an interactive book blog that is an ingenious way of keeping you up to date on the latest scientific findings, providing more information for specific species and genera, and otherwise involving her readers in the process of discovery. She has also given a TED Talk on the subject of fireflies. Oh, and don't forget the book itself has a whole chapter called "Stepping Out - Further Firefly Adventures." There you will learn how to become your own scientist and contribute to what we know about fireflies. The "Notes" are rich in additional publications, links to online resources, and other material.

Ellychnia sp. "dark firefly"

This hardcover work, priced at $29.95 U.S., is a must addition to the library of every naturalist, even if they specialize in other organisms. It is a brilliantly organized volume rich in both content and inspiration. Well done, Sara Lewis.

Review: The Sting of the Wild

Justin Schmidt is widely acclaimed for creating the Schmidt Pain Index that ranks the potency of the stings of bees, wasps, and ants, based largely on self-inflicted experience. It naturally follows that a book is in order to explain what most would consider a crazy person's pursuit. The Sting of the Wild, from Johns Hopkins University Press, is an odd combination of memoir and study in the scientific method. Does it succeed as either?

Full disclosure is also warranted here. I have known Justin as a friend, mentor, and colleague for decades, and am truly in awe of how his mind works. He asks questions that no other scientist does, then creates ingenious ways to test his hypotheses. No one I know is as innovative, persistent, and hard-working in the name of basic research. I was hoping that his personality and character would be reflected in this book.

The book contains what may be the best explanation of the attraction of certain people to scientific careers:

"Science is an exploratory process more so than a goal to realize. Yes, there are goals, and these must be clearly defined for funding agencies to support the research, but the real excitement and driving force in science is the adventure of seeking the goal, not in attaining the goal."

That is what I was anticipating from this volume: excitement and adventure. I have heard enough stories from Justin to know that he has a nearly limitless source of material, and is able to engage colleagues easily. So, what happened to that? Why did it not translate well to the written page?

If your usual reading in entomology is Howard E. Evans (Life on a Little Known Planet and Wasp Farm), May Berenbaum (Bugs in the System), or Bernd Heinrich (In a Patch of Fireweed), you will likely be disappointed by this book. Those unfamiliar with scientific terms, or chemical molecular structure, will find the book over their head at times, or at least dry and flat. Anecdotes from the field are lively enough, but too few and far between to sustain momentum of the narrative. The reader is forced to weave together the author's timeline from disparate passages and references, so the autobiographical aspect is also broken.

It stings me to say this about the book because its author is someone who should be admired and emulated. Schmidt is profoundly curious, a quality sadly lacking in too many scholars today, if not outright squelched by an academic environment that demands we be more concerned with "managing" nature than understanding it first. He is not some caricature or dare-devil as the media tends to suggest, but this book does little to change that impression, let alone create an understanding of what drives Schmidt's curiosity.

Despite its shortcomings, I learned a good deal from this book, and that alone may be enough to recommend it, at the very least as something worthy from your local library. A general audience is, unfortunately, not going to flock to this book. It reflects the novelty of the author's life, but lacks relevance to the reader unless he or she is also a scientist or aspires to be one. The complete "Schmidt Sting Pain Index," which makes up the appendix, is not enough to push the whole book into the limelight. The best natural history books ignite in the reader the urge to explore and discover. This one might keep them indoors, as a virtual spectator of other adventurers.

Review: Diving Beetles of the World

Johns Hopkins University Press is an underrated publisher of natural history titles for both professional scientists and general audiences. Their latest example of impeccable quality is the book Diving Beetles of the World: Systematics and Biology of the Dytiscidae, by Kelly B. Miller and Johannes Bergsten. It is somehow fitting that a relatively ignored family of aquatic beetles gets its "coming out party" delivered by a publisher assumed to be mostly a purveyor of medical books.

Diving Beetles of the World should be a model for a serious and thorough treatment of any entomological subject. Every aspect of the biology, ecology, and classification of the family Dytiscidae is covered here. It is this placement of the beetles in a larger context that is so vital, and so often lacking in other technical publications devoted to various insect taxa. Creating an appreciation for a neglected family of organisms is no small feat, and this publication vastly exceeds expectations.

Rhantus gutticollis from Colorado

It helps greatly that the book is lavishly illustrated with detailed images of perfectly prepared specimens of the beetles themselves. Even a casual student of entomology will feel comfortable at once. Furthermore, keys to the subfamilies, tribes, and genera of diving beetles are likewise illustrated with line drawings and clear, magnified images of critical parts of the beetles' anatomy. Were that not enough, there are also maps showing the global distribution of each genus.

The summary for each genus includes a "diagnosis" of physical characters peculiar to that genus, in case you missed anything during your journey through the keys; a history of classification and relationships to other genera; a description of diversity that includes the number of species currently recognized for that genus; a natural history indicating what habitats and niches the particular genus occupies in nature; and finally a distribution description that complements the maps.

Thermonectus marmoratus from Arizona

The authors, one American and one European, fully recognize the fluid nature of insect taxonomy and have cited virtually every paper and publication written previous to this current work. This sets the stage perfectly for ongoing and future investigations into the Dytiscidae.

Considering that aquatic ecosystems are arguably the most critical habitats on the planet, this book deserves to have an impact far beyond entomology. Every aquatic biologist, environmental consultant, and citizen scientist needs to have this volume in their library, or at least seriously consider it. Should you not make the purchase yourself, please suggest it to your university library.

Colymbetes sculptilis from Massachusetts

Indeed, the only unfortunate aspect of this tome that does not recommend it is the price: $150.00 U.S. Easy for me to enjoy my review copy while my readers are looking at a major expense, no doubt. Still, this is an important work, not just a gift for "the entomologist or naturalist who has everything." How to reconcile quality work with an affordable sale price is a question for another blog, and believe me I am open to suggestions. In the case of Diving Beetles of the World, the product commands the monetary value assigned to it.

Note: Images other than the book cover are my own and are not featured in the book.

Book Review: The Bees in Your Backyard

The digital age has thankfully produced a wealth of resources, both online and in print, for amateur naturalists looking for information about insect pollinators. Perhaps the best of these to date is The Bees in Your Backyard, by Joseph S. Wilson and Olivia Messinger Carril (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2016). This is a visually-rich, up-to-date reference to all the genera of bees in North America north of Mexico.

At eight-by-ten inches in size, this book really isn't a field guide, but a useful tool to help determine the identity of an individual bee from a specimen or detailed image. As one becomes more familiar with key characters of different kinds of bees, they become increasingly easier to identify in the field.

The Bees in Your Backyard could be recommended simply on the strength of the "keys" it employs to aid in bee identification, but it goes beyond that. The discussion of each genus includes distribution maps that show not only where those particular bees occur, but their level of abundance and diversity in a given area. There are also graphs showing the seasonal distribution of the bee genus; and a scale with life-size silhouettes shows the size range of the genus.

As the average infomercial goes "but wait, there's more!" Indeed, the introductory pages address bee anatomy, bee biology, how to study bees, and a key to the different families of bees. A separate chapter gives tips on how to promote bee diversity in your yard, garden, and neighborhood.

Interesting and relevant facts are scattered throughout the book in highlighted boxes of text. These are welcome little "surprises" and bonuses, but sometimes become distracting.

If there is any complaint with the book it may lie in this "busy" appearance. People who have a difficult time with their attention span or ability to focus may have problems with the book's organization. For example, chapters are divided into sections with decimal numbers (chapter 1 is divided into 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, etc). This is reminiscent of a textbook or website presentation and thus may appeal to students but not an older, more informal audience. Page numbers are located in the middle of the side margins of each page, and I, for one, have to learn that all over again each time I open the book.

Until now, the best reference for bee identification for this region was The Bee Genera of North and Central America, a bilingual (English-Spanish), scholarly work by Charles D. Michener, Ronald J. McGinley, and Bryan N. Danforth (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994). That book is now very much outdated, and is exceedingly expensive. Information on the biology of the bees is also minimal.

Whatever its minor shortcomings, or differing reader preferences, The Bees in Your Backyard is by far your best bet for a comprehensive work on all things apoid, in a compact 288 pages, too. Plus, at $29.95 U.S., it is highly affordable. Make sure you add this to your library, and use it often. Pollinators need all the help they can get, especially our native, solitary bees.