On Being an Amateur—and Proud of It

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monarchs are one of the hundreds of species i'm still learning about ... and happily so. Photo: Sue anderson

monarchs are one of the hundreds of species i'm still learning about ... and happily so. Photo: Sue anderson

The book's not even out (it will be on Wed., June 8!) and already I'm hearing the questions:

  • So you're not a wildlife biologist?
  • Are you a botanist?
  • Wait, so how long have you lived here?

The implication is clear: If you're "just" a writer and have no nature-related degrees or even the credibility of being a lifelong resident, how could you possibly be an expert on Central Oregon's plants and animals?

The simple answer is that I'm not an expert. So when I get those skeptical questions, I have to take a deep breath, raise my chin, and reply with pride: I'm an amateur.

Why do I say that like it's a good thing? Because the word "amateur" means "one who has a taste for something." It's derived from the Latin amatorem ("lover of"). So when I say I'm an amateur naturalist, I'm saying that I'm a lover of nature—and I look forward to remaining exactly that the rest of my life.

As to whether an amateur naturalist can write a nature guide (shouldn't that be left to the experts?), consider that one of the best nature writers in the business is Diane Ackerman, an English professor with four degrees (!) — not in biology or environmental science but in English and creative writing.

Or think of Mary Roach (author of Stiff and Bonk and others), who writes bestsellers filled with research and scientific studies. And yet she has no scientific degree or any particular qualifications beyond being curious and a writer and somebody who lived for a time in a trailer next to Gorilla World at the San Francisco Zoo.

Now, I'm no Diane Ackerman or Mary Roach. And of course there are also scientists like Alan St. John (see note below) who write glorious nature books. But I would argue that the key ingredient isn't personal expertise, although that can help.

Rather, I believe the key ingredient is love, which is typically intertwined with curiosity. Whether you're in love with a person or with the combustion engine, you'll tend to look closely at your beloved subject, asking lots and lots of questions, until eventually you know them so well that you want to share what you've learned with the world.

Or at least you might want to share what you've learned in a book that some of your friends will read, and if you're lucky, that perhaps four other people will also read. Because you're an amateur, and you're in love, and that's enough.

Correction: I assumed incorrectly about Alan St. John. He's such a good naturalist and author that I thought he must have advanced scientific degrees. As it turns out, he too is a proud amateur.