I was recently asked to provide a personal summary of how I became interesting in publishing as a career, and so the following was my response.
I remember the day well. It was the Summer of 1983, following our respective graduate study at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, my wife Cynthia in dance and yours truly in landscape studies. She was trailing behind me, and I was driving a 14-foot U-Haul truck with all of our belongings in it en route from magical Madison to James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Virginia, where Cynthia would join the faculty in dance and retire 38 years later as one of the university’s most decorated faculty members. That is why we have always been based in the beautiful and historic Shenandoah Valley.
It was during our winding trek through the mountains of West Virginia when my inner self began to wonder: What will I do for a meaningful life in our new home place? We knew no one and had no connections, family or otherwise.

It wasn’t long before my thoughts were directed to the following fork in the proverbial road: Would I pursue an academic career or might I find another path? Based on observing the careers of my many great professors at UW-Madison, I assumed that, as an academic, I might have two or possibly three books in me during my anticipated career that would contribute to the world’s understanding of place. And that would be a worthwhile endeavor and contribution to place-based study. And then I thought: Or perhaps I could help others in developing and bringing to publication their work and thus compound the impact of work involving place-based study?
In the back of my mind was this recognition: Having worked for three years in graduate school as both an editorial assistant for and the first book review editor of LANDSCAPE JOURNAL: DESIGN, PLANNING, AND MANAGEMENT OF THE LAND (University of Wisconsin Press), I instinctively knew there was a dearth of publishers engaged in books about place. And although some university presses had dabbled unknowingly in place-based books with a single title in this field or another, no university press had a program or reputation of any kind in landscape study and its myriad components, including cultural geography, planning history, vernacular architecture, and landscape photography.
By the time Cynthia and I drove up to our townhouse and unpacked our overnight bags and toiletries, eating some take-out food while sitting on the floor of our living room, I shared with her my thoughts that had emerged during that day’s drive through West Virginia and how I felt could do more good in the world in publishing than as an academic. I felt I could help usher in new kinds of books about place that I knew scholars either were engaged in or could be enticed to write and create, if I could just get a break and be hired at a press.

Eight months later, in March 1984, I landed my first job as an acquisitions editor at the Johns Hopkins University Press in Baltimore. There, my life changed and with it, I have repeatedly been told, university press publishing as well, for the dozens upon dozens of pioneering and award-winning books that emerged as part of my “Creating the North American Landscape” and other series at Johns Hopkins literally changed university press publishing in terms of content and the kinds of books that were being published, and those books emphasized the importance of illustration as archival evidence supportive of text. My resume reveals the rest of my publishing career, and I am thankful to have been given opportunities to be an author or editor of nine books myself, exceeding my initial goal of two or three as part of an academic career.

As we know, landscape study encompasses numerous kindred-spirit fields, and so the books I have developed and brought to publication reflect that tradition. For that reason, I am particularly proud of and happy for my authors whose books have now won or shared more than 180 best-book honors in more than 35 academic and professional fields, all related to place. And rather than go to any annual conference and see only one press exhibiting—as was the case for many many many years when I was an editor at Johns Hopkins—today the number of presses interested in books about place (from many perspectives) has increased exponentially, including those now exhibiting at SACRPH and other annual professional meetings.
Our understanding of and appreciation for the importance of place in our everyday lives continues to evolve and, in some ways, mature even as the topics today may be more narrowly focused than in the past but whose presentation is increasingly layered in context and content. Thankfully, throughout my 42-year career, I have been fortunate to have worked with amazing colleagues and find authors who were looking for a publishing home to convey their research and creativity and interpretations of the places where most of us live, work, recreate, and play.
The future of university press publishing remains uncertain, as libraries no longer prioritize the acquisition of the printed book, leading to a great reduction in book sales and thus putting increasing financial pressure on the industry. In fact, for at least 10-20 years librarians have been asking for a different kind of book, given that libraries have become learning centers and are no longer repositories of books. But that kind of book will need to be developed by others more technically advanced than me.

My roots in publishing began in graduate school with an emphasis on field work coupled with archival work, and GIS and other technologies existed only in the visionary minds of planners such as Ian McHarg. When I started my career at Johns Hopkins in March 1984, everyone on staff had the same tools: a private telephone (land line), the magic of the IBM Selectric 2 typewriter, use of regular U.S. mail, and the convenience of the fax. And our work weeks consisted of 40 hours. No reading or work at night or on weekends except occasionally in preparation for a board meeting or following a holiday break or travel to a conference as an exhibitor. Today, I manage the same number of books I did back then, but I know of no one in publishing or academia who has been able to meet expectations for productivity in a traditional 40-hour work week since the emergence of the personal computer and of e-mail, despite their advantages, resulting in a miscued work-life balance that too often leads to disillusionment, burnout, and even early retirement.

In hindsight, my career in publishing has spanned an extraordinary period of transition from a modern-day post-Guttenberg tradition back in 1984 to the New Digital Age with AI now ever-present in every way. Despite these challenges, I fondly recall that eventful day in the Summer of 1983 in the mountains of West Virginia when I decided to take a chance and seek publishing as my pathway to making it possible to publish new work and books about places. I am so glad that I did, for my life has been enriched beyond measure by working with hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of scholars, writers, professionals, and artists in making it possible to share their respective visions about place and its various interpretations and histories. The world is a much better place because of all that collective work.
Both Cynthia and I are forever grateful to all of our mentors and professional colleagues as well as an inner circle of family and friends for making it possible for us to find our “calling” and pursue meaningful careers in dance and publishing. May everyone be as fortunate.
