The Writer Fisherman

George J. Lambert

About me...


    For over 50 years, the quest for trout, salmon, bass, perch, finny creatures of any kind, has been my passion, a passion that has taken me to the Rangeley Lakes in western Maine for red and blue speckled squaretails and silver-sided landlocks , to the rugged and spectacular desolation of Labrador for vibrant, feisty Artic char, rod-busting brookies weighing up to 10 lbs. and yard-long pike with barracuda-like teeth, to the Moisie River in northern Québec and the Miramichi in New Brunswick for the elusive jumper salmo salar, Atlantic salmon. My most memorable fishing experience occurred at the confluence of the Moisie and Dorée Rivers made famous by Lee Wulff where I landed a salmon measuring over 40" and weighing in excess of 25 lbs. that succumbed to the enticement of a double hooked "Monroe Killer" dead drifting on a 8 wt. line.

    While fly fishing continues to consume me, in retirement I have resurrected another fond diversion: writing! From illustrated "read-to"  books for children, narratives of fishing trips, novels, documentaries, poems, nothing seems to challenging or too pedestrian. 

    My first published work, entitled  Brothers and Heroes?A Chronicle of Military Service of Six Americans© and published by PublishAmerica, recounts the wonderful stories of my brothers' military experiences that so intrigued me as a child. In the chapter about my brother John, I wrote            

  As time blurred the vivid memories of Korea, John began to take me fishing.   I remember a  particular Good Friday, following church services when John and I took  off in his Ford and  went trout fishing in the stocked ponds north of town.

Currently I  am working on a couple of novels, one strangely enough with the working title Corpse at the Fishing Camp©  that opens

                  The acrid formaldehyde fumes quickly penetrated her nostrils, burning her                     mucosa,  violating her entire being.  With a brief whiff as she walked  into   the  rather cool reception area, Sienna traveled back 17 or 18 years, back  to   high school, back to those terrible  dissection classes that she had so abhorred. How could  one odor, one smell evoke so many repressed memories?  In a  flash, she saw the pinned segments of the earthworm (lumbricus terristris if she   recalled correctly) and remembered its morphology: suprapharangeal ganglia, setae, pharanx, chloragogue  cells, crop, clitellum, prostomium. Stupid terms once and   forever                   memorized flooded her consciousness.

 In the forward to another  novel  in process, In God's Name-Recollections of  A Seminarian©, one of the main characters bemoans the aging process with the following observation:

                 The untold days spent on rapid rivers, quiet streams and brooks, icy
              lakes and ponds in pursuit of brook trout and landlocked salmon with
              my Sage fly rods and well-tied Wulffs and productive Black Ghosts meld
              into distant, dulled, and faded memories.

 Fishing  never strays too far from my thoughts as one can see; it is a recurring theme in my writings.
    So as I proceed on this human journey to its ineluctable conclusion, I shall continue to fly fish and to write , enjoying all the while the wondrous scenes where my passions take me.  Hope you to enjoy  the pictures below as much as I enjoyed being there.

Sunset on Kennebago Lake in Western Maine©

Foggy wisps on sunny morn–Kennebago©

Salmon On!–Moisie River Québec©

Labrador Beast?©


Ready with  net–Moisie River  Québec©

                             In the shadows of the Tetons, Jackson, Wyoming
Photo by Diane Stratton


      Kennebago  landlocked salmon ready  for release©

Labrador Artic char–Minipi River, Labrador©

Dockside gear at Kennebago©


Deer or stump?©

 When it all began...with my first bass

                     Prize  caught  on Cobbosseecontee  Lake near  Augusta, Maine©