Home and away

Flashing through the proof bound copy didn’t show any glaring mistakes, I wasn’t about to read it thoroughly all the way through, I’ve done that so many times already. I know it was my last chance to pick up mistakes, but I was prepared for a product slightly lacking in perfection. That wasn’t quite the way I viewed it at the time, impatience ruled I must admit, seeing the first print run roll off the production line was my only focus. I’d timed my return for the books release only to find it delayed by a month, my main concern was not to delay it any further. That proved a touch rash; the first copy I picked up, the first page I perused, glaring at me from the page was the first mistake. It’s not the only one, though they don’t come thick and fast by any stretch of the imagination. It has to be sorted, before a second print run, and despite being so familiar with the story I still feel I should read it as a printed book. (Photo: Penrhyn Quarry across the valley - Bethesda, North Wales)

Most of my time has been spent organising the promotion of the book, tackling the local media and booking venues to host the book signings were relatively easy really. The story has had plenty of publicity locally, which stems right back to Cai and me leaving for our amazing father and son adventure through the Americas. In some ways the publicity has come back to bite me on the arse, Cai’s demise has provided the sensationalised aspects of the media interest. I don’t want to sell the book on the strength of losing my son, but there’s no denying that it’s what makes the story special. It isn’t just the story though, the telling of it has to be done skilfully otherwise an inspirational story could turn out to be boorish, or cumbersome to read. Over the years I’ve read a phenomenal number of books, I have a wide range of interest and form clear impressions of a good author when reading their work. It doesn’t matter how good a story line is, it must read well to be a success. So I guess it was with baited breath that I waited for feedback once it went on sale. (Photo: A walk down the valley - Nant Ffrancon, Nr Bethesda)

First things first though, I had to sell copies! Impatience again ruled the roost, I booked venues and arranged interviews with local reporters before there were actually any books available. That’s me all over though, impulsive and once I get an idea in my head can become a little obsessed about it. It was rushed, I should have taken more time, allowed more time for advertising, but it had been five years in the coming. Friends and family were always going to be amongst the first customers, they were also going to be the least likely to give damning criticism, especially after being given a copy free gratis. It was the public interest I had to attract, which is why the first book signing was arranged at the Bangor public library, I was also lucky enough to have a TV crew agree to cover the launch. Unfortunately rain stopped play, Aberystwyth flooded and the cameras decided that made better news than a local author’s debut publication. (Photo: Llyn Brenin towards Nant Gwynant, Nr Capel Careg)

I must be honest the number of books sold was a bit of a disappointment, at all three venues. You have to start somewhere though, more important were those rare moments where a real connection was made. In the library a random passer-by was asked to pose for a photo with me, and what a strange occurrence. Sitting down she asked what the book was about, so I explained about my motorbike ride through the Americas, the mileage, the basic route. Only when turning a book over did she notice the photo of Cai and me, she asked about who I did the journey with. That was the moment I had to be totally open and honest, “that’s my son, he lost his life in an accident at the very beginning of the journey”. At which point she dropped her own bombshell, having lost her brother recently she’d come in the library looking for something on bereavement, to help her to deal with her loss. So it wasn’t necessarily about the number of sales, if only one person in Lhotse’s situation found inspiration in my words it made all the writing and publishing worthwhile. (Photo: Book launch, with Lhotse - Bangor Library)

 Definitely mixed blessings are felt about settling into being home again. I felt at odds with my bike, appreciated having some private space but felt not quite fully at ease in someone else’s house, and was keen on promoting the book though somehow wished some high flying benefactor could have pushed sales straight into bookstores. I got used to the bike, and now fling it around with gay abandon. Accommodation, I can’t fault the generosity of a friend who allows me to use his empty house, and yet I haven’t settled into it the way I had last time at home. I’ve not seen that much of friends, my decision not theirs, the dynamics have changed, between many of them rather than with me. On a personal level I’m middling, emotionally neither high nor low, though I have my moments. Maybe the biggest change is the decision to make my next trip abroad a longer-term move. I’m not happy in the UK, the world at large may not offer guaranteed happiness but the atmosphere in this part of the world is so negative. (Photo: My slightly battered BMW - Back safely in North Wales)