criminal not to pay tribute to them here. Together, we have made
By-Ways around Britain
what it is.
For the benefit of curious enquirers into my story, I need to record the unique part played by my wife, Sienna. Since we first met â was it only two years ago? â her boundless energy and unorthodox imagination have taken my breath away. Sienna it was who encouraged me to take that first and all-important step towards writing another book. The life of an author is, perhaps today more than ever before, blighted by periods of intense loneliness, as well as by seemingly endless disappointments. When I was at my lowest ebb, Sienna was the one who urged me to pick myself up, dust myself down, and start all over again. A travel writer, however long in the tooth, must keep travelling. As she so rightly said, I needed to get out more.
And then there is my agent, Dean Woodthorpe, of the Poe Agency. Ever since Winston Poeâs unexpected decision to take early retirement following that memorable Valentineâs Day party at Soho House, Dean has kept the steadiest of hands on the tiller. Over the years, my debt to Dean has been greater than I can easily describe, and not merely because of his uncomplaining efforts to guide me through the ups and downs of a full-time non-fiction writerâs tenuous existence in a free-content world. Were it not for Deanâs sage and cheery counsel, I should never have dreamed of dipping my toe into the murky water of internet dating. Had I been cynical enough to realise that he was pulling my leg, I would never have experienced the joy of that first meeting with Sienna in the Middlesbrough night club managed by one of her fatherâs Albanian business partners.
Dean seized upon the
By-Ways
project from the moment I first mentioned it, insisting when I was prey to doubts that it could represent a breakthrough in my literary career, or at the very least in this austere age, a noteworthy milestone in a process of sensitively managed decline. How often have I been glad of his reassurance that âwe are all in it togetherâ! Needless to say, he proved a forceful and, whenever provoked by a thoughtless rebuff, aggressive advocate on my behalf with publishing houses both grand and modest. Long gone are the days of contracts with Penguin and Random House, but as Dean has so wisely reminded me, in times like these, beggars canât be choosers. One has to cut oneâs cloth, and Dean is, to coin a phrase, an accomplished tailor. New, young, vibrant firms have sprung up to take on the tired old media giants at their own game. Their innovative approach to print-on-demand and e-publishing offer so many fresh possibilities to those of us who cannot offer kiss-and-tell stories or celebrity memoirs. Thanks to Deanâs negotiating prowess, I have been fortunate to secure a relationship with Ferreting Facts, a âvirtual enterpriseâ brimming with flair and optimism. In time, they will, I am utterly confident, establish a list of distinction. Meanwhile, I am proud to become the first previously-published âdead treeâ author they have consented to take on.
My editor, Mary-Lou McGillicuddy, has proved a tower of strength from the time she received the initial synopsis for
By-Ways around Britain
. Among other things, she has taught me that long, lazy and liquid lunches with publishers are the enemy of a truly creative relationship of equals, and that a small cup of ginseng tea can be as inspirational as it is good for the blood-sugar. Her steadfast support for my decision to focus on the personal and emotional core of my journeys around the less-frequented corners of this sceptred isle, rather than prosaic trivia about word count and proof-reading, has been a source of strength in testing times. A remarkable series of diary clashes has denied me the opportunity to meet in person my publicist, Pixie Simpson, but both of her warm-hearted emails meant a great deal to me, as
Mary Smith, Rebecca Cartee