|A Book About Wales|
I once wrote a book about Wales. It was called 'Wynford Vaughan-Thomas's Wales'. In it, I explored the beautiful hills, coasts and mountains of our magnificent country. I wanted to feel my country; so I spent a lot of time in pubs drinking beer and writing notes on the back of fag packets. Of course, I lost the fag packets and had to wing it about three days before the deadline...but that made for a genuine book. A book full of passion; a book that encapsulated the hungover magnificence of Wales.
My chapters wove from hill to pub and back again. I wrote about the verdant majesty of Cymru; the trees, the rivers, the beer, the poetic air, the beer, the sheep, the beer...did I mention the beer? I wrote about the beer as well.
Nowadays, though, it seems that books about Wales are becoming increasingly flouncy. Coyote and Roadrunner recently brought me one to have a look at and I wasn't impressed. The photographs were adequate; but they were in colour! Everybody knows that Wales is in black and white! Especially Fishguard. The chap who wrote it made out that he did a lot of walking when it was clear that he just went from place to place by helicopter and, judging by his prose, he didn't write a single chapter while lying on the sticky carpet of a dark pub squinting through one bloodshot eye. Where's the soul?
I made £1.94 out of my book. Back in those days that was enough to buy you a three-storey house in Pontcanna, a Triumph Spitfire and a pair of green corduroys. I wouldn't like to think how much this man made from his book. I bet he got at least £10. Disgusting.
|I made my feelings known.|