Hello My Name is Sharkbait by Michael Neiman Review: A Humorous, Heartfelt Appalachian Trail Memoir

Hello My Name is Sharkbait is a trail memoir — not a guidebook, not a novel — and readers who come to it knowing that will find exactly what the Appalachian Trail demands: honesty, endurance, and the occasional absurdity.

Michael Neiman's memoir follows his 2,192-mile thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail, running from Georgia to Maine. The journey, which the author notes began as a dream more than two decades before it was realized, is told with a comedic sensibility that Neiman's own website describes as "the hilariously true story of grit." The narrative moves through blizzards, dehydration, laughter, and doubt — the full physical and emotional spectrum of a long-distance thru-hike. What distinguishes it from a straightforward adventure log is its dual focus: the trail itself, and the relationship between Neiman and his son, whose roles as father and child shift unexpectedly over the course of the journey. The book is published by HN Publishing and runs to 392 pages.

The premise that launches the book is, by Neiman's own admission, a humbling one. The author describes three archetypal types drawn to thru-hiking the AT — young romantics, older souls seeking a final chapter, and those running from something — before positioning himself as a fourth kind: a guy who simply loved hiking and assumed that love would be sufficient. It wasn't. That self-deprecating honesty sets the tone for a memoir less interested in heroics than in what it actually costs, physically and emotionally, to walk 2,192 miles. The father-son dynamic adds a layer of personal stakes that extends well beyond trail survival: as the event description from Ridgefield Library notes, the two find their long-standing roles quietly turning inside out — a transformation that gives the book an emotional through-line anchored in real relationships rather than solo introspection alone.

One of the book's clearest strengths is its comedic register, which appears to be central to its design rather than incidental. The author's own framing — "hilariously true" — positions the humor as intentional and integrated, not a softening device. Equally notable is the book's origin: Neiman developed the narrative from actual trail journals kept during the hike, giving the memoir a firsthand, documentary grounding. That lineage from journal to published page — the subject of his author talks at venues including Ridgefield Library and Books on the Common — suggests a book built from accumulated daily observation rather than reconstructed from memory alone. The unexpected friendships forged along the trail are woven into the narrative as a recognized element, broadening the scope beyond a single-hiker perspective.

At launch, Hello My Name is Sharkbait reached the number-one new release position in the Walking, Solo Travel Guides, and Travel Adventure Fiction categories on Amazon, according to Neiman's own reporting. The trail memoir is a well-established genre with touchstone titles, and this book enters it with a comedic, relationship-centered angle that differentiates it from more survival-focused or philosophical AT accounts. Neiman has supported the book with in-person author events at independent bookstores and public libraries, indicating an active community presence around the title. He has also published a companion volume, Platinum-Blazing the Appalachian Trail, a guidebook to the best meals, stops, and comforts along the route — positioning Hello My Name is Sharkbait as the narrative complement to a broader AT-focused body of work.

Readers drawn to outdoors memoirs that balance adventure with humor and personal relationships — think trail stories that make space for laughter alongside physical hardship — are the natural audience here. The father-son dynamic will resonate with readers who appreciate family-centered memoir woven into an adventure framework. Those seeking a purely practical trail account will find that Neiman's companion guidebook is the better fit for that need; this memoir is structured around experience and emotion, not logistics. As a debut memoir from an independent imprint, the book has not yet accumulated the breadth of critical coverage that major trade releases carry, meaning readers are working with the author's own framing and early community reception rather than a wide range of independent critical assessments. That is a reasonable calibration to hold when weighing expectations — not a flaw in the work itself, but a useful context for prospective readers.