From 2000 to 2010, River Selby was a wildland firefighter whose given name was Anastasia. This is a memoir of that time in their life—of Ana, the struggles she encountered, and the constraints of what it means to be female-bodied in a male-dominated industry. An illuminating debut from a fierce new voice, Hotshot is a timely reckoning with both the personal and environmental dangers of wildland firefighting.

By the time they were nineteen, Selby had been homeless, addicted to drugs, and sexually assaulted more than once. In a last-ditch effort to find direction, they applied to be a wildland firefighter. Two years later, they joined an elite class of specially trained wildland firefighters known as hotshots. Over the course of five fire seasons, Selby delves into the world of the people—almost entirely men—who risk their lives to fight and sometimes prevent wildfires. Simultaneously hyper visible and invisible, Selby navigated an odd mix of camaraderie and rampant sexism on the job and, when they challenged it, a violent closing of ranks that excluded them from the work they’d come to love.

Drawing on years of firsthand experience on the frontlines of fire and years of research, Selby examines how the collision of fire suppression policy, colonization, and climate change has led to fire seasons of unprecedented duration and severity. A work of rare intimacy, Hotshot provides new insight into fire, the people who fight it, and the diversity of ecosystems dependent on this elemental force.

Praise for Hotshot:

A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of the Year
Amazon Editor’s Pick: Best Biographies & Memoirs of August
A Kirkus Best Book of the Month
A Most Anticipated Book by Autostraddle and featured in the New York Times and NPR’s Books of the Summer

“An intimate memoir of trauma and gender dynamics and a researched history of wildfires and those who fight them.”—NPR.org

“A fiery take on the American Western . . . An exhilarating and heartrending exploration of the cycles of creation and destruction that govern both the natural world and our worlds within . . . a thrilling read that nonetheless asks the reader to engage with challenging questions. How do we coexist with nature’s creative and destructive cycles? How do we coexist with our many selves, across time, across place, across memory, within the creative and destructive cycles that looking back affords us? As we enter wildfire season under an administration particularly hostile to environmental conservation efforts, women’s bodily autonomy, and nonconforming gender identities, this book is a fierce, compelling riposte to the fear and destruction we’re living through.”—Sarah Bess Jaffe, Electric Literature

“Riveting . . .It’s rare for a first-time author to manage such a perfect balance of her personal story . . . and her awareness of the challenges climate change has brought to the firefighting community today. Hotshot nails it.”—Jane Ciabattari, Literary Hub

“A worthy book for adventurers, and for readers who wonder what it’s like for a woman in a deeply-swaggering world. Hotshot may rankle you, it may inspire you, it may open your eyes to your own soul, so find it and read.”—Terri Schlichenmeyer, Out SFL

“Hotshot exposes harassment, hardship, and hope in wildland firefighting . . . Absorbing.”—Jessica Zack, San Francisco Chronicle

“Intimately reveals the humans behind the wildland firefighting workforce — their personal problems, messy home lives and the sacrifices they had to make to do this grueling job . . . raw and honest.”—High Country News

“Cinematic, meditative, and profoundly intimate.”—Sarah Rosenethal, Hippocampus Magazine

“Far more than a tale of female struggle against adversity . . . [Hotshot] is a deeply-researched account of fire history, indigenous ecological knowledge, land management and beautiful, affecting scenes that follow their relationship with a cruel, unstable mother. The combination of firefighting action, personal memoir, and rich scientific context makes this a powerful read.”—Electric Literature

“Tremendously smart . . . this book spans ecosystems and legacies of land management and stewardship on this continent [and] one person’s incredibly moving life . . . Hotshot does something magical. Not only could I not put it down, but I’m smarter, and more empathetic, for having read it.”—Kasey Peters, Barrelhouse Magazine

“Selby molds personal and ecological acceptance into a moving narrative about fire and humanity . . . With visceral prose, they bring readers directly to the heat and intensity of the front lines day and night . . . Shot through with their own challenges of bulimia, alcoholism, and relationships, the story is one of power and resilience, of someone struggling to make a life for themself in the inhospitable and challenging career of wildland firefighting. Spliced within it are historical and scientific examinations of firefighting in the American West. Deeply researched, these segments provide context for the book, but it is the narrative that is most gripping. With fortitude and admirable vulnerability, Selby brings readers directly into a tumultuous time and place. Like fire, this book burns hot.”—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

“A fierce examination of identity, climate change, and the shortcomings of U.S. fire policy . . . Poetic, wise, and haunting, this seamless blend of memoir and science writing leaves a mark.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“They write of the fires with a historical perspective on how human behavior has contributed to natural disasters. They also write of their own personal disasters, attempting to come to terms with their emotional needs, and their mother’s death by suicide. More than an adventure story about high-stakes firefighting, Hotshot is a compelling story of personal growth.”—Booklist

“What a wonderful, compassionate, sharply observed, beautifully researched, open-hearted book. Selby has lived a big, courageous life, and that largesse is evident on every page, in the form of the rigor and curiosity of the narrative voice. Ostensibly about fire-fighting, Hotshot turns out to be a beautiful reflection on justice, the environment, the self, and much more.”—George Saunders, Booker Prize-winning and #1 New York Times bestselling author of Lincoln in the Bardo

“Writing is a core reflex in a direct sense. River Selby observes, speaks, and conveys from their core experience that is the soul of revelation and story. I am surprised and amazed it can be done in ‘words’ that are the reflex of experience one gets from life. To me, it is the impact of any and all experience we live and share. What can I say but ‘Thank you with love.’”—Simon J. Ortiz, author of Light as Light

“River Selby is the real deal. A writer who seems fearless, who is honest and fierce—and this stunning memoir of fighting wildfires is spectacular . . . and alive with grit and action and poetry.”—Luis Alberto Urrea, Pulitzer Prize-finalist and New York Times bestselling author of Good Night, Irene

“Hotshot is that rare species: a memoir of young adulthood and a clear-eyed take on wildland preservation from a naturalist who learned on the job. And what a job it was: the kind where a colleague tells you unironically to keep going, because you’re not dead yet. You can smell the smoke and feel the grit on the back of your neck, and the lessons—of which there are many—feel hard won and very timely. Selby’s road was harder than most, which makes their arrival as such an accomplished and thoughtful writer all the more satisfying.”—Nate Blakeslee, author of Tulia

“Hotshot is a brave, powerful, deeply moving memoir of survival and strength. It is also a timely, urgent history of fire, climate change, and our complex, fraught relationship to land stewardship. River Selby’s story is inspiring in its spiritual and emotional inventory. Selby is a wonderfully gifted writer about nature, about the complexities of trauma, and the hard-won possibilities of healing.”—Dana Spiotta, author of Wayward

“Hotshot is the story of a life forged through crucible. In this wonderous memoir Selby’s life reminds us courage can be grown, the self can be found and anything can change. A writer of shining talent and tenacity.”—Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah, New York Times bestselling author of Friday Black and Chain Gang All-Stars

Reading Group Guide 

1. Selby recounts the feeling of conducting a backburn for the first time as “like entering an alternate dimension” (p. 53). They remember an absence of pain, being “cleansed” by the labor. How does focus function throughout the book, at turns helping Selby move through difficult and painful situations, at turns preventing them from finding the support they need?

2. Over and over, Selby explains how many American forests and other ecosystems need fire to stay healthy, frequently referring to indigenous forms of land stewardship that created and maintained thriving landscapes, destroyed by settler colonialism: “fire was ecologically necessary for western ecosystems to thrive” (p. 105). How does the U.S. government’s willful ignorance of indigenous fire management strategies reflect other ways the settler colonial project functions throughout the United States?

3. Hotshot crews emphasize the importance of not showing fear. What might the consequences be of such a rigid stance, in firefighting and in other contexts?

4. On the concept of land regenerating after a major burn, Selby writes, “The premise of land ‘healing’ falsely assumes that ‘healed’ is an endpoint when in truth everything is cyclical. Nature has no endpoint” (p. 210). Where else might this apply? How does this concept show up in different iterations throughout Hotshot?

5. How does Selby’s relationship to men—in particular, their need to seek approval from men, their often-unrealized desire to be “seen” by men—affect their relationship with their own self-worth?

6. Selby’s instinct towards self-abandonment takes on many forms throughout Hotshot. In a particularly low moment, right before a turning point where they come to understand some of the patterns that have trapped them in cycles of self-destruction, they reflect: “Abandoning myself was an unconscious reflex. When I finally felt safe enough on the crew to assert myself, it had proven itself unsafe” (p. 150). How else does this instinct show up, and what might it reveal about other parts of the book or Selby’s life?