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Bob Romano

Bob Romano has owned a cabin in the Rangeley Lakes Region of western Maine for more than thirty years. In his latest book, The River King – A Fly-fishing Novel, the writer returns to this region of the country that has a rich sporting tradition. This is Bob’s fifth book set in western Maine. The tenth-anniversary edition of Shadows in the Stream, Bob’s book of essays about fly fishing, is often used by anglers as a guide to fishing the Rangeley Lakes Region.

Bob is also the author of the Rangeley Lakes trilogy that includes North of Easie, which won second place in the 2010 Outdoor Writer’s Best Book Contest. Romano’s essays and short stories have appeared in various anthologies, including Christmas in the Wild, Fresh Fiction for Fresh Water Fishing, and Wildbranch: An Anthology of Nature, Environmental, and Place-Based Writing. His most recent book, The River King is published by West River Media.  More information about his books can be obtained by going to his website: forgottentrout.com.

Author Articles

Book Review - "Moving Water: Reflections of an Artist"

In my perfect dream, I’m sitting in a rocker on the porch of a farmhouse. My legs are raised. With my ankles crossed, the heels of my boots lean against the porch railing. My companion of twelve years, a black Lab named Buck, lies beside the rocker. His big head is cradled on the top of paws mottled with gray. Set between two spruce notches, my eight-foot...

Book Review: "Fly Fishing the River Styx"

There is a sweet sadness found in Richard Dokey’s newest book of short stories, Fly Fishing The River Styx. Sad, in that most of the stories are written from the perspective of one who is closing in on the end of life’s journey. Sweet, in that one of the few rewards of making it past middle age is the freedom to pretty much say and do what you want...

"Return to Riverton"

William Porter stared out the window as the Greyhound rumbled over the stone bridge that spanned the Big Moose River. The bus had been nearly full when it turned up Route 95 from Portland, but as it passed over the bridge Will was one of only three remaining passengers. When the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the Riverton diner, Will Porter grabbed...

"Rita's Revenge"

Charlie O’Dowd was in mid swing when the silver Lexus pulled in behind his truck. His legs flexed as the maul sliced through the log he’d set on a stump. “Hey, you,” he called when his daughter stepped out from the driver’s door. “Hey, yourself,” she called back while her eight–year-old daughter climbed out of the back seat of the sedan. The...

"Samuel Cole"

Born in Manchester, New Hampshire, Samuel Cole moved with his family to the town of Berlin, where Samuel’s father joined his uncle and two cousins working at the Brown Company’s pulp mill located along the bank of the Androscoggin River. Samuel’s father and uncle leased land across the border in western Maine, where they built a cabin located beside...

"Some Days Are Easier Than Others"

Henry Croucher pulled his square-stern Grumman onto the shore of Little Moose Lake. The boat’s aluminum hull glittered under the afternoon sun. It rained twice during the previous month, but the brief showers didn’t make up for the sustained drought that had gripped western Maine since early June. During that time, the lake had receded a considerable...

"Catch and Release"

Living in western Maine, no one thought it odd that George Garrison would name his child after Carrie Steven’s beloved Cocker Spaniel. That was back in the nineteen fifties. At the time, my father owned the only gas station in the town of Riverhead. He’d bought the station on time the year after marrying my mom. That was two years after he returned from...

Book Excerpt: "The River King"

It was a long bike ride to the river and I remember sweating profusely by the time we crossed the wooden bridge that spanned the dark current. After walking our bikes a few feet into the wood, we hiked single file down the trail outlined on the napkin. The conifers were closely packed on either side of the narrow path, and I could smell the balsam in the...

"In the Land of Fishing Legends"

There are ghosts beside the rills and runs splashing down the sides of these slopes thick with spruce and balsam. They linger along the tannin-stained pools of rivers that meander through the shadows of this conifer forest. I’ve heard their rustlings in the still of a summer evening while walking barefoot along a deserted cove, caught movement at the edge...

"Like Stars in a Midnight Sky"

The fishing in western Maine can be quite good in August, if you can find where the trout are hiding. This requires time and patience. By keeping your ears open and mouth shut, you might catch some gossip while waiting on line at the general store, hear a bit of loose talk between locals while pumping gas, or a sport boasting over dinner at the sporting...