Sue Tidwell is an outdoorsy venturesome type whose journey — through the twists and turns of life and, maybe, fate — took her from the rolling hills of small-town Pennsylvania to a modest ranch amid the rugged canyons and mountainous wonder of northern Idaho. Although she long enjoyed capturing her escapades on paper for the eyes of family and friends, she never pursued publishing her work. Her Tanzanian safari, however, lit a fire in her gut, compelling her to share her adventure and awakening to the critical role of sustainable conservation. Cries of the Savanna is a result of that passion. Sue lives in rural Idaho with her husband, Rick, who tolerates her endless musings, faraway trances, and hours camped at the keyboard – lost in the wilds of Africa. When not at the computer, Sue can be found atop a paddleboard, engaged in her latest outdoor excursion, or enjoying her grandchildren’s antics.

Member Spotlight – Q & A with Sue Tidwell:

• Tell us a little bit about your background and how you became a writer/author.

As the oldest in a six-pack of kids growing up in rural Pennsylvania, I was immersed in all kinds of outdoor activities from day one, fueling a love of nature, wildlife, and adventure. Once an adult, life’s twists and turns took me from the green rolling hills of my hometown to the mountainous wonder of Alaska and ultimately to the rugged canyons of northern Idaho.

Writing was a way to share my adventures – and plenty of misadventures – with family and friends. Yet, I never submitted any of my work for publication; that is, until I experienced a life-altering trip to a remote encampment deep in the Tanzanian bush. The eye-opening experience and a promise that I made to our female game scout lit a fire in my gut, compelling me to share my adventure and journey of “awakening” with the world. Cries of the Savanna is a result of that passion.

• Describe one of the most memorable projects you have worked on thus far.
  

Cries of the Savanna is, hands down, my most memorable and important project.

Although I do not hunt, I did grow up in a hunting community; I, therefore, had a basic understanding of hunting’s merits, especially for subsistence and population control. Ultimately, I ended up marrying a hunter.

It wasn’t until my husband wanted to hunt in Africa that my stomach did flip flops. Somehow, the idea of hunting Africa’s exotic animals — especially certain prized species that I had adored since childhood — seemed different from hunting deer, turkey, and elk. Weren’t some of the species endangered? Wasn’t photo tourism a better way to protect lions and elephants? Ultimately, my zest for adventure and desperation to experience Africa trumped my misgivings; I put on my big girl pants, packed a bag, and headed for the Tanzanian bush. Little did I know that decision would change my life.

Less than a month later, my skepticism was gone; I returned to the states a staunch advocate for the sustainable use of African wildlife — including the species that I was emotionally attached to.

It wasn’t one huge “Aha” moment that changed my mind, it was a hundred little truths: battling the blood-sucking Tsetse flies as we bounced along the pitted roadways in temperatures hot enough to scald a lizard; waking to my husband’s alarmed whisper “Honey, wake up. We might have to run.”; slinking through the long grass trying to get within shooting distance of targeted animals that outwitted us time and time again; hearing stories that left me wide eyed with my mouth gaping open in alarm and disbelief; seeing the logistics involved to tackle mundane tasks in a parched land; experiencing remoteness and animal densities that few photo tourists would appreciate; discovering the many facets of poaching and learning that well-managed hunting is a great deterrent to those illegal activities; and building relationships with the staff, allowing me to see that their livelihoods — and that of so many others — depend on the income derived from foreign hunters.

Aside from all the insight I gained from these day to day activities, it was the cries of the savanna that touched me deep in my core. The vocal shenanigans of beastly creatures varied every single evening — a different composition of growls, roars, squeaks, bellows, chortles, and a hundred other ghostly serenades. The primal sounds chilled me to the bone but, at the same time, filled me with awe. Never have I felt so alive and exhilarated by the promise of the days to come. Yet, I also came to recognize the dangers of living with such dangerous destructive species. I observed the strategies taken to mitigate those risks and I came to understand why a monetary value must be placed on such animals.

Thinking back to my time at Masimba Camp, I become all misty eyed. Africa is a magical, wondrous, and intriguing land filled with people and sights that will fill you with awe; but it is also a complex unforgiving land. Experiencing Africa first-hand offered me a whole new perspective, answering all the questions that had troubled me.

There are plenty of facts that support the value of well-managed hunting, but I no longer need statistics; common sense and my heart tell me everything that I need to know. With my sentiments and mind aligned, I am now passionate about helping others — like me — understand the reality of Africa, instead of the romanticized version.

The truth is, I am not the same having heard the cries of the savanna. Not only their savage songs, but their cries for the world to awaken. To understand the hard-truth needed to ensure their cries forever remain a part of the wild, and not just ghostly echoes from a distant past.

• What resources have been the most beneficial to you in your professional journey?

Honestly, I didn’t know about POMA until several months ago. That is how far removed I was from the writing world. As a self-published author, I thank heavens for everyone —  my editor, beta readers, graphic artist, fellow authors, and African hunting industry professionals — who were kind enough to share their expertise and experience with me. Also, the internet, YouTube, and social media were definitely my friends!

• How’d you hear about POMA and why did you join?
  

While social media has its pitfalls, it has been instrumental in creating connections with people that I would have never met otherwise, especially with me being so foreign to the media world. Through those contacts, I met Amy Hall of Her Wild Outdoors Podcast. After serving as a guest speaker on her podcast, she told me about POMA and strongly suggested that I join. Later, other people also recommended POMA as a great resource and networking tool. So here I am. Being so new to the industry, I definitely have a lot to learn.

• Lastly…do you have any hidden talents?

Well, I once pulled off a pretty mean version of Hokey Pokey for an impromptu talent contest on a whitewater rafting trip. Still, as riveting as my performance was, it was overshadowed by a gal doing a fried egg imitation!

Other than that momentous display of artistry, one might consider my writing to be a hidden talent — depending, of course, on the reader’s opinion of Cries of the Savanna. Fortunately for everyone, the reviews on the book suggest that I should stick with pen and paper instead of butchering an old-time favorite folk dance.