There are, I suggested, two types of travel books that narrate one’s experiences journeying afar. Those that make good reading for friends and family. And those with wider public appeal. Remarkably few in the latter category. Which, I added, gave me a modicum of confidence in the oft-maligned publishing industry. Their reluctance to fill bookshelves with ramblings from the road.
I’d been asked if I might write a book when I got home. Recounting my various experiences riding a bicycle around the world. Not an infrequent question of late. My answer always a little hesitant. Non-committal. Certainly I’ve the source material on the website. But it’d be a huge undertaking editing it into something I’d even be vaguely content with. And that’s just for friends and family.
As for penning something with much wider appeal. I’d need to be convinced this was a realistic prospect before ever setting out on such a mammoth task. Nothing ventured nothing gained perhaps. But I’d like to think I’ve got my feet vaguely on the ground. Not too many delusions of grandeur.
Tags: travel writing
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