BEHIND THE BOOK
Pyro: The Quest for a Beautifully Elusive Snake
A CONVERSATION WITH DALLIN KOHLER
We sat down with herpetologist and author Dallin Kohler to talk about the inspiration for his debut, Pyro: The Quest for a Beautifully Elusive Snake, and his journey to ignite new appreciation for snakes in seasoned herpetology enthusiasts, those typically wary of reptiles, and anyone who finds joy in exploring the natural world.
Torrey House Press (Quinn Luthy, 2025 Environmental Humanities Fellow): At Torrey House Press, we’re proud to publish books that deserve to exist in the world—not because they’re written by big names, but because they tell stories that matter. Pyro felt like one of those books from the start. Can you talk a bit about where it came from?
Dallin Kohler: A lot of it started with this sense that snakes are just… left out. In nature writing, you can find plenty on wolves, whales, even turtles. But when I tried to find something on snakes—especially anything accessible to general readers—there was almost nothing. I wanted to write Pyro to fill that gap, and to give snakes the attention and care they deserve. They're fascinating animals, deeply misunderstood, and I wanted to spotlight that.
Quinn: You absolutely did. After reading Pyro, I went mountain biking in Steamboat Springs and saw a snake on the trail. Normally I’d have screamed, but instead I stopped and thought, That’s just a garter snake. It’s sunning itself. It’s fine. I felt like the book gave me a whole new framework for reacting to snakes.
Dallin: That’s exactly what I hoped for. If someone walks away with a little more understanding—or even just less fear—I consider that a win.
Quinn: You’ve said before that you didn’t have a formal background when you pitched the book—no degree, no scientific credentials. Why did Torrey House feel like the right home?
Dallin: Because you publish books with heart. Torrey House publishes books that are very authentic You’re not looking for prestige or status—you’re looking for authentic stories. At the time I was querying Pyro, I hadn’t even finished undergrad. Other publishers probably wouldn’t have looked twice. But Torrey House saw something in the story itself, and that made me feel seen. It made me want to say yes.
Quinn: That means a lot. I think Pyro really captures what we value—place-based writing, scientific insight, and emotional honesty. What do you hope readers come away with after reading?
Dallin: A changed perspective. Whether someone is terrified of snakes or already obsessed with them, I want readers to come away with a deeper appreciation. I also hope the book makes science feel more approachable. A lot of important information is locked behind jargon or academic papers. I wanted Pyro to make that knowledge accessible, to translate the science into story.
Quinn: I think it totally succeeds. It even inspired me to download iNaturalist and start identifying things on hikes. That sense of interaction—of noticing—is such a gift.
Dallin: That’s so great to hear. It’s what I was hoping for. Curiosity and respect are powerful.
"A lot of important information is locked behind jargon or academic papers. I wanted Pyro to make that knowledge accessible, to translate the science into story."
—DALLIN KOHLER
Quinn: You did a beautiful job bringing the herpetologists in the book to life. Have any of them read the manuscript?
Dallin: Mark—the guy with the ancient Subaru—has read a few chapters. He’ll definitely get a copy of the finished book. He’s a total character, and I really enjoyed writing about him.
Quinn: Okay, big question: if you could hand Pyro to anyone in the world, who would it be?
Dallin: It’s less about one person and more about a certain kind of reader: someone who loves the outdoors, but is skeptical of science. I want Pyro to be a gentle invitation into how science works, why it matters, and how it can deepen our relationship with the natural world. Not through lecturing—just through storytelling.
Quinn: Exactly. That’s why books are such powerful advocacy tools. They don’t argue—they open windows. Okay, fun one: if you were a snake, which would you be?
Dallin: Probably a striped whipsnake. They’re not flashy, but they’re curious, active, always moving. I relate to that. I’m not trying to be the center of attention—but I’m always exploring.
Quinn: Love that. What was your actual writing process like?
Dallin: Far less glamorous than people might imagine. I wasn’t out in the wild with a notebook—most of Pyro was written in the library, hunched over a laptop. The biggest surprise was how much editing it took. You’re not just refining sentences; you’re shaping chapters, structure, narrative flow. That’s something I didn’t fully understand until I was deep into it. My advice to aspiring authors? Learn to think on that big-picture level. Revision is everything.
Quinn: You pulled it off. Seriously. And the structure of the book—how you wove science, story, and personal experience—was so effective. Last question: if you could ask every reader of Pyro to do one thing after finishing the book, what would it be?
Dallin: Be willing to be an advocate for snakes. That could mean not killing one when you see it on a trail—or educating your friends about how rare snake bites really are. If you have the means, support conservation organizations. And vote. If we care about the natural world, we have to act like it.
Quinn: That’s such a powerful takeaway. Your book gave me the tools to be that person on the trail—and to see snakes not just as something to tolerate, but as something to appreciate. Thank you so much for trusting us with this story. We can’t wait for readers to meet Pyro.