Journeys were long and exciting when I was a youngster. My father was a Royal Navy officer and his skills as a captain were used extensively by Middle East oil companies. So traveling to school for me and my brothers involved flights out of places like Damascus, Beirut and Doha, in the days when Heathrow was little more than a Nissen hut.
My journey as a writer has been long and exciting. And will be even longer and yet more exciting.
As a journalist, I’ve always had a book in me, but you know how it is, you work long hours and write zillions of words, so the last thing you feel like doing when you get home is writing a book. Speaking of journalists, and stop me if you’ve heard this, but there’s these two journos chatting. One says, “I’m writing my novel”, and the other replies, “Neither am I.”
I thought I’d never get past the dreaming stage.
Then my wife and I moved to Spain (we live in the mountains behind Marbella) with two-fifths of our children and two dogs, Dylan and Bruno. (We’ve now also got two black cats, Achilles and Spartacus, found in a dustbin with several broken bones, but they genuinely think they are dogs endowed with supernatural abilities to climb trees and catch mice. All four pets are bilingual).
Anyway, Spain. Technology was such that I could continue my job as a freelance editor but personally I didn’t think that was fair on my clients, hardly ever bothering to fly back to the UK to attend editorial meetings or sign off pages in person, have a few beers and collect a cheque, that sort of thing. So I quit.
And appointed myself as full-time novelist.
Libertas is not my first book, if you count one ghost-writing effort, one co-written book on obscure religions and cults, and a business manual for professional photographers. But it is my first novel. It took several months to research the background to the Battle of Munda, which took place slap bang in the valley where we live, when Julius Caesar lost his rag with the sons of Pompey and dealt them a major thrashing. I wanted to know why he came to Monda (then Munda), and why he behaved so out of character by personally fighting in the front line and allowing his men to slaughter around 30,000 fellow Romans and local Spanish recruits. (Check out Monda Castle).
It took a year to write the story, usually working in the still of the night, spending the days on our various building projects and helping my wife design and develop a superb Mediterranean garden. It then took another six months to rewrite after the first rejection by a literary agent. Fellow writers, especially from sites like Youwriteon.com, Literaryagentshowcase.com, Writersrelief.com and others, have since helped me to understand how to deal with (I hate this word) rejections. And I have been immensely encouraged by my family and friends who have all given such positive encouragement – my wife, Lynda, my son Seb (he fell in love with Leandra even though I told him she was make-believe), my step daughters Simone, Cassie and Corrine, and my young stepson Max, who has reveled in school projects on the Battle of Munda and Roman influences. My friends Phil Reuben, Peter Corbett, Bob and Jayne Chequer, Pete and Joy Sanderson, and good old Bing (you’ll find him in the Barmy Army stand at Test matches). My sister Indira, who felt she got to know ‘Pito’ like a brother. Brian, my younger brother, who claimed Caesar had visited Watford and he had an old Polaroid to prove it, and my older brother, Richard. In Spain, Yolanda, who touches the manuscript whenever she’s here, “para suerte” (for luck), and neighbours Richard and Janet. Also my son’s friend, a teacher named Andy Cook, who has an enviable IQ and an incredible knowledge about the Romans. Finally, and not by any means least, the authors whose works of historical fiction I admire: Bernard Cornwell, Simon Scarrow, Conn Iggulden, Mary Renault, Mary Teresa Ronalds, Carlos Ruiz Zafon, Valerio Massimo Manfredi, Douglas Jackson, Robert Harris et al. To you all, and many more, thank you.
Finally, thanks to my publisher, Roger Bennett of Quaestor2000, whose tireless work and enthusiasm deserves success, and to my PR helpers Meg Jordan and Cathryn Snowden.