I’d been working with a seasoned Features writer, providing the photos and the notes whilst she did the actual copy, for a forthcoming piece in Wales on Sunday newspaper. But that was far from all. Invited to write a chapter for the next edition of the prestigious Royal Geographical Society Expedition Handbook. It’d not pay, but that wasn’t the point. A chance to share what I’d learnt, a real sense I’d something fresh to say. The skeleton I’d shown the editor now neatly overlaid with pencilled scribbling, refinements to strike that very fine balance between inspiring the novice and keeping the respect of more seasoned riders. Quite a few of whom I know well.
I’d also been busy readying for my inaugural talk, selecting photos and sketching out stories, for it was to be an evening of illustrated anecdotes rather than some dull travelogue. Was there to be a book? I was beginning to shift my stance, conceding this was now a possibility. The catalyst had been an unsolicited comment from a journalist, the mention of an engaging light touch style. Not for a while of course, despite a growing passion for writing. Rather too much to do crafting CVs and covering letters to prospective employers.
In the mean time, you might expect the odd piece to appear on the blog, musings from back in Blighty. And a chance to develop writing skills. Incidentally, always interested in suggestions, even commissions, to put together prose for others. Do get in touch.
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