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Nearly four years ago I sent a short email to my friend Emily White, Acquisitions Editor at Mountaineers Book: “Might you have 20 to 30 minutes to chat about a book idea in the next week or two?” Thus began a relationship for the book that has become In the Range of Fire and Ice: A Human and Natural History of Washington’s Cascades, which Mountaineers Books will publish in September 2026.
I bring this up now because I turned in the page proofs—which is the first time an author sees a book laid out as it will be when published and basically the last time an author can make changes—of the book last week. I thought I’d follow up by giving a bit more of a behind-the-scenes look at the creation of the book.
Before starting work on this book, I had been planning an on-the-ground look at how climate change was playing out in the Pacific Northwest. I had spent several months interviewing scientists, but could never figure out an angle that worked. Finally, Marjorie and I were on one of our regular evening walks around the neighborhood when the idea of a book about the human and natural history of the Olympic and Cascade Mountains popped into my head. I remember wondering why it took so long to come up with such a simple idea; it would make a fun and logical follow up to Homewaters, my book about Puget Sound.
I quickly realized that covering both mountain ranges didn’t make sense so narrowed my focus. I then began another several months interviewing activists, scientists, and historians, to get a better idea of what were key stories of the Cascades. (Writing is a funny thing. I have two writing pals who will not talk about their in-progress books at all, whereas I am to blather away to anyone who’ll listen; I figure it’s a good way to see what excites people, plus friends often ask great questions that lead me to new insights.) During this time, I had my first chat with Emily about the book. She was supportive and encouraging, as well as offering good suggestions for topics. (I want to be clear; this is a privilege of having worked with Emily for more than a decade and having become a good friend and not something I could have done early in my career.)
Once I had narrowed down my topics, I spent the next two and a half years doing what I love best: going out in the field, either by myself, with Marjorie and friends, and/or with researchers. I hiked, backpacked, and car camped. I carried baby fish and released them in a high country lake; picked and ate many many huckleberries; tagged along with wolverine researchers as they retrieved and set out remote cameras; hiked to many fire lookouts—abandoned, in good shape, and long gone; found the stomach and viscera of either a mountain goat or deer; hiked into the crater of Mount St. Helens; and got to see NPS rangers deliver clean backcountry toilets!
For the most part, I focused my field time on whatever chapter I was writing. My style is akin to my college career. I went to a school where we took one class at a time. Each block lasted 3 1/2 weeks, with a short break between classes. I still write on the block plan, doing all of my research and writing and finishing the chapter before proceeding to the next subject. (I even sort of eat this way, eating all of one item on my plate before moving to something else.)
I sent the manuscript to Emily in January 2025. Her response one month later was wonderful. “What a treat to spend this rainy weekend learning about the Cascades. Even though I’ve spent so much time in those mountains, your manuscript makes me realize I hardly know them at all!” Now the fun began.
First step was a Developmental Editor, basically someone who would take the big picture view, offering a fresh set of eyes on structure, themes, and voice. The returned manuscript’s markups ranged from simple fixes (inserting a missing word) to kind comments (LOL—love this coinage!) to questions and suggestions about adding more information about myself and the people I ventured out in the field with. Next up was copy editing: punctuation, spelling, consistency, formatting, sentence tightening, questions about specific word usage, fixes of redundancy, etc. Once again, I was pleased with the changes for the most part.
As you can see above, in the tally of revisions, these rounds of editing are not for the faint of heart. It’s always a shock when I open the document and see the highlights and red lines and comments. Plus, there’s always some comment or “correction” in copy editing that annoys me and makes me say, “WTF, you have to be insane!” I have learned to pull back at this point and give the document and my nerves a rest. When I return and read through more carefully, I usually see the clarity and concern in what the editor has done. After all, the goal of the developmental and copy editors is to improve my writing, to help me be clearer, and to find mistakes and inconsistencies; they are not ogres plotting my downfall.
Despite all of the changes, and the fact that they indicate that what I thought was well done, was in need of some good editing, I like this process. I know that these rounds of editing are the polishing phases, removing the rough edges and honing the book into a shape. I always like to think that the edits help take the book up to another level. I definitely know that they eliminate my errors in punctuation and spelling, though occasionally facts slip by, such as the time I had three different dates for the Denny Party’s arrival in Seattle. I finally caught that error in the final round of proofreading. I can only hope that I/we haven’t missed any similar, egregious errors, but I also know there are mistakes in the book; there always are.
Even though I have turned in the page proofs, my work on In the Range of Fire and Ice continues. Captions. Final details on images. Blurbs. Proofreading. And, then another completely different process begins. Marketing, which lasts long after the book is published. As I wrote above, writing a book isn’t for the faint of heart. It is also a privilege; I love doing what I do and feel incredibly fortunate that I get to spend my time researching and writing and sharing stories about the natural world.
Ooops. Please note that last week I had the wrong date for my talk at the Royal Room next week with Lynne Peeples. It’s February 26, not February 28, as I wrote.
If you are interested in watching/listening to Emily and me chat about In the Range of Fire and Ice, here’s the discussion we had on February 12.
I am trying something new below. I admit, I am quite smitten with coffee. If you are interested in supporting my habit, I’d raise a cup in your honor. Thanks.
By David B. WilliamsNearly four years ago I sent a short email to my friend Emily White, Acquisitions Editor at Mountaineers Book: “Might you have 20 to 30 minutes to chat about a book idea in the next week or two?” Thus began a relationship for the book that has become In the Range of Fire and Ice: A Human and Natural History of Washington’s Cascades, which Mountaineers Books will publish in September 2026.
I bring this up now because I turned in the page proofs—which is the first time an author sees a book laid out as it will be when published and basically the last time an author can make changes—of the book last week. I thought I’d follow up by giving a bit more of a behind-the-scenes look at the creation of the book.
Before starting work on this book, I had been planning an on-the-ground look at how climate change was playing out in the Pacific Northwest. I had spent several months interviewing scientists, but could never figure out an angle that worked. Finally, Marjorie and I were on one of our regular evening walks around the neighborhood when the idea of a book about the human and natural history of the Olympic and Cascade Mountains popped into my head. I remember wondering why it took so long to come up with such a simple idea; it would make a fun and logical follow up to Homewaters, my book about Puget Sound.
I quickly realized that covering both mountain ranges didn’t make sense so narrowed my focus. I then began another several months interviewing activists, scientists, and historians, to get a better idea of what were key stories of the Cascades. (Writing is a funny thing. I have two writing pals who will not talk about their in-progress books at all, whereas I am to blather away to anyone who’ll listen; I figure it’s a good way to see what excites people, plus friends often ask great questions that lead me to new insights.) During this time, I had my first chat with Emily about the book. She was supportive and encouraging, as well as offering good suggestions for topics. (I want to be clear; this is a privilege of having worked with Emily for more than a decade and having become a good friend and not something I could have done early in my career.)
Once I had narrowed down my topics, I spent the next two and a half years doing what I love best: going out in the field, either by myself, with Marjorie and friends, and/or with researchers. I hiked, backpacked, and car camped. I carried baby fish and released them in a high country lake; picked and ate many many huckleberries; tagged along with wolverine researchers as they retrieved and set out remote cameras; hiked to many fire lookouts—abandoned, in good shape, and long gone; found the stomach and viscera of either a mountain goat or deer; hiked into the crater of Mount St. Helens; and got to see NPS rangers deliver clean backcountry toilets!
For the most part, I focused my field time on whatever chapter I was writing. My style is akin to my college career. I went to a school where we took one class at a time. Each block lasted 3 1/2 weeks, with a short break between classes. I still write on the block plan, doing all of my research and writing and finishing the chapter before proceeding to the next subject. (I even sort of eat this way, eating all of one item on my plate before moving to something else.)
I sent the manuscript to Emily in January 2025. Her response one month later was wonderful. “What a treat to spend this rainy weekend learning about the Cascades. Even though I’ve spent so much time in those mountains, your manuscript makes me realize I hardly know them at all!” Now the fun began.
First step was a Developmental Editor, basically someone who would take the big picture view, offering a fresh set of eyes on structure, themes, and voice. The returned manuscript’s markups ranged from simple fixes (inserting a missing word) to kind comments (LOL—love this coinage!) to questions and suggestions about adding more information about myself and the people I ventured out in the field with. Next up was copy editing: punctuation, spelling, consistency, formatting, sentence tightening, questions about specific word usage, fixes of redundancy, etc. Once again, I was pleased with the changes for the most part.
As you can see above, in the tally of revisions, these rounds of editing are not for the faint of heart. It’s always a shock when I open the document and see the highlights and red lines and comments. Plus, there’s always some comment or “correction” in copy editing that annoys me and makes me say, “WTF, you have to be insane!” I have learned to pull back at this point and give the document and my nerves a rest. When I return and read through more carefully, I usually see the clarity and concern in what the editor has done. After all, the goal of the developmental and copy editors is to improve my writing, to help me be clearer, and to find mistakes and inconsistencies; they are not ogres plotting my downfall.
Despite all of the changes, and the fact that they indicate that what I thought was well done, was in need of some good editing, I like this process. I know that these rounds of editing are the polishing phases, removing the rough edges and honing the book into a shape. I always like to think that the edits help take the book up to another level. I definitely know that they eliminate my errors in punctuation and spelling, though occasionally facts slip by, such as the time I had three different dates for the Denny Party’s arrival in Seattle. I finally caught that error in the final round of proofreading. I can only hope that I/we haven’t missed any similar, egregious errors, but I also know there are mistakes in the book; there always are.
Even though I have turned in the page proofs, my work on In the Range of Fire and Ice continues. Captions. Final details on images. Blurbs. Proofreading. And, then another completely different process begins. Marketing, which lasts long after the book is published. As I wrote above, writing a book isn’t for the faint of heart. It is also a privilege; I love doing what I do and feel incredibly fortunate that I get to spend my time researching and writing and sharing stories about the natural world.
Ooops. Please note that last week I had the wrong date for my talk at the Royal Room next week with Lynne Peeples. It’s February 26, not February 28, as I wrote.
If you are interested in watching/listening to Emily and me chat about In the Range of Fire and Ice, here’s the discussion we had on February 12.
I am trying something new below. I admit, I am quite smitten with coffee. If you are interested in supporting my habit, I’d raise a cup in your honor. Thanks.