A WineDark Sea and Salt Story

Okay, so I was shocked into a kind of euphoric, ditzy stupor yesterday when I discovered my book on the shelves a week before I expected them. Goodness! That was a moment. But I should probably now compose something more thoughtful, respectable and writerly than Wilbur Fucking Smith.

The last few weeks have been mad and there must be something in the water because everyone else around me seems to be infected too. It's got something to do with schedules, deadlines and all the planets converging on a meteoric November. Me? Oh, the thesis is due in by the end of the month and there is this small matter of a book launch:

Whoo! (sorry, slipped out).

For anyone who would like to make it to the deep south Salt Story book launch and hasn't received an email or proper hard copy invite from me, here are the details. It will be held at the Boat Shed on Princess Royal Drive at 5.30 pm on the 14th of November. As it is beginning to look like a rather big party, you must RSVP to the Albany Library on 98 419390. There be lots of wine and food. There may be dancing girls. If not, then Fisheries officers - in uniform.

The library staff have been awesome. The manager Paul will be MCing and Julia will read some pieces from Salt Story with me. In fact heaps of people and organisations have really stepped up for this book. Paperbark Books have worked hard and happily to create a weather system around Salt Story. They stacked my books beside Wilbur Smith in the window of their shop, among other touches of creative genius. The Albany Maritime Foundation have given me the Boat Shed on the sea shore for the launch. One of my mates is playing guitar, another is performing the Welcome to Country.

Anyway, back to the madness, I had a coffee with my friend J yesterday, after he'd walked down the street to deliver the master copy of his double CD to get pressed. The process of recording and producing his CD has been exciting, convoluted and slightly eccentric in its execution, true to the character of its creator. He is having his launch party the day after mine.

"I can't possibly go back to the office and answer emails yet," he said on the phone. "Come and have a coffee with me." So we jumped in his car. He put his brand new CD in the player, cranked it up and drove around the mountain on the marine drive where freighter ships loitered in the Sound and the wind blew white stripes across the water.

"People keep saying 'you must be so excited'," he shouted over some most excellent riffs by our mutual friend Irish. "But I'm not. I don't know what I feel. Kind of horrified? A bit manic? What have I forgotten? I know I've missed something. It's going to be huge. I don't know if it's any good ..."

On and on he went, his thoughts mirroring my own feelings over the last two weeks. "You must be so excited." I'm too spun out to be excited. I don't know what I feel. I do know that seeing that stack of books yesterday was one of the coolest things to happen for me, probably since my grand daughter was born.

I've been thinking about A WineDark Sea and internet publicity a bit lately. I set up the website of fishing images that you can see on my sidebar. I've managed to stay away from facebook but joined Goodreads and started a twitter account - something Tom Stephenson predicted I'd do when I became a published author. Tom you also predicted that I would reduce my blogging to 140 characters at about this point and turn into a publicity idiot if I remember rightly :~), but you know, twitter doesn't really work for me. I still don't understand its usefulness. Well I do, but it just does not interest me. I want to stay here, here on A WineDark Sea. I know it is a go-to destination and not exactly clickbait heaven but it's my place and I like it here.

And now for a completely gratuitous image of Wilbur Fucking Smith my beautiful, beautiful stack.

And another ... of my dog, who is immortalised in the book but alas no longer on this mortal coil.