Last week I had the good fortune to have lunch with Andrew James, whose father, Ron James has written a number of books about climbing. At the age of 73 he’s still outdoors, these days having hung up his karibiners and turned his attention to mountain biking, but still writing books about his passions. In the discussions it struck me that Ron had cracked what may be the golden rules of writing non-fiction for “the rest of us,” that is, people whose careers and lifestyles lie outside of the mainstream media.

So, what can we glean from Ron’s experiences?

1. Find a domain that has a community. There are plenty of interesting subjects to write about – but like the tree that falls in the forest when nobody is there, it is unclear whether such writings will ever have a readership. This is pure pragmatism – not necessarily commercial as we shall see, but it will only be the most devoted of authors that will write an entire book to reach only a handful of readers. The Internet can be a great help in this regard – message boards and forums are not only a source of information but also can give you a good idea of the scale of the audience. In Ron’s case he has stuck to outdoor sports – niche market perfection, with plenty of devoted followers.

2. Differentiate what you are writing about. It would be pointless to cover a topic in a way that has already been done – unless, in the past, it has been covered poorly. So if you’re writing a how-to guide look beyond the “First lessons in…” to more specific topics, building on the literature that’s already out there. But do be careful not to forget point 1 – you don’t want to end up too niche! For example, Ron’s current focus is mountain biking, to be sure - but for the over-60′s! Don’t be afraid to research the topic and find out what else has been written on it: indeed, it’s good practice to write a proposal, if for no other reason than to ensure you answer the questions a proposal demands – such as, for example, what differentiates this one? 

3. Make sure the benefits are broader than financial. A tough one, this. Its not that nobody gets rich and famous writing books, but more that it is highly improbable. A common fallacy – a bit like seeing someone on the telly and assuming they live in a big house somewhere, whereas the reality is that most actors are only as well off as the next job permits. So, if you’re writing, do so in a way that covers your costs and maybe makes a bit of cash; meanwhile however, ensure take into consideration the wider benefits - through sponsorship for example, or purely the fact that writing enables you to spend time covering a subject you love. Which brings me to…

4. Write about something that you love. There are surely plenty of areas that fit the above three criteria, but you’re only going to get old and resentful unless a certain part of what you do is for its own sake. Write not only because you love writing, but also because you love the subject that you’re writing about, be it music, fly fishing or industrial archaeology.

This last lesson is important. Ultimately, whatever you do, you need to be doing it for your own satisfaction, as well as for the potential readership. This will not only help you enjoy the (sometimes mind-numbing) process, but also result in an output of which you can be justly proud.

Six weeks ago I started reading a number of books, possibly a bit ambitiously I kicked all four off at once. This is no more than checking in as I haven’t yet finished them – but I am over half way. So far I have completed:

Richard Dawkins – The God Delusion. Clearly in places a rant and not as well argued as expected in places, but a very enjoyable book and necessary reading for anyone who takes the topic of religion seriously, on either side of the divide.

I felt Mr Dawkins was like the man who finally had had enough of the sniping and negative speak, and in the end felt he had no choice but to say things as he really felt. As such, he made a few cutting remarks of his own – but having got these off his chest, presented the arguments against organised religion pretty well. There were a number of weaknesses – the Buddhists, Hindus and other non-Abrahamic religions got off pretty scot free, and the presentation of religiousness as 2-dimensional, i.e. there was a straight line between atheists and zealots depending on level of belief was, I thought, a bit simplistic.

Perhaps weakest of all was the explanation of the fact that there is no God primarily on the basis of probability. Of course God is highly improbable, but then so is the human race, the latter fact one which Mr Dawkins felt proved itself by the presence of thee and me. The fly in the ointment is perhaps the assumption that we can only judge by what we can measure, when of course at the same time we are woefully inadequate to to such a thing, both from our ill-equipped position at the periphery of some far-flung galaxy and also our fundamental, stupid humanity.

None of which proves there is a God either, but as spake the humanist prophet Douglas Adams, with proof, there is no need for faith. I do wonder about this one – specifically (and I would love Mr Dawkins’ feedback) that perhaps we have a genetic propensity towards such socio-psychological constructs. More specifically still, perhaps it is our drive towards higher planes of thinking that have in some way enabled us to evolve, to the point where we are now. Organised religion may have been the cause of much that is wrong, but what if it is a prime factor in our development as a race?

I don’t know the answer to this, but it is certainly worthy of investigation. Food for thought: would the Buddhists in Burma have taken on the government there, if they had no faith in their own higher powers? Does religion come from community, or community from religion? And indeed, have we really advanced so far in the past 10,000 years that we no longer need such a crutch? As I was walking the dog earlier I was considering the existence of “psychogenes” – perhaps these are as selfish as those concerned with our more physiological aspects (and if these are already well-established and under the scope, clearly I need to read more).

M. Scott Peck – The Road Less Travelled and Beyond. I was really looking forward to this as I got a great deal out of the original The Road Less Travelled, and to be sure there were some moments of clear insight in this book. Indeed, there was a point about a third of the way in where I thought how great it might be if Mr Peck and Mr Dawkins were in conversation together: one, whose science had proven there was no God, and the other, whose experiences in psychology had proven that there was.

Unfortunately, Mr Peck’s book was like a mirror on his own, fragile humanity. To say he had “lost it” towards the end is a bit strong but his arguments were blunted by his own desire to get closer to the higher truth, and to present it from a Christian standpoint (though he did bring in some teachings from other doctrines). It didn’t help either that I was well aware by the time I got half way about his own weaknesses, and while I was happy to reconcile that he could talk about his experiences as a psychotherapist without considering his own shortfalls, I wasn’t prepared to put up with him being too preachy.

In some ways Mr Peck came across like Icarus, having flown too close to the sun, or perhaps one of the architects of Babel, returning from the top but ill-equipped to articulate all he found there. Not long afterwards of course he was to die, all too young, of Parkinson’s disease, proving beyond doubt his thesis of death being the great leveller.

In conclusion, what both books  taught me was that we are all only human, and that there are some things that we can never prove for sure, one way or the other. This is perhaps less about God, and more about us… but still, it may just be the way things are supposed to be.

I’m now tackling Tricks of the Mind by Derren Brown, and it is with no small sense of irony that I find myself drawn more towards this illusionist and iconoclast. You see, here’s the rub – I do happen to believe that we can be convinced of all sorts of things, good or bad, its one of the things that makes us human (and its a reason I could never subscribe to the Wisdom of Crowds).  We also love stories (as described in my other book on the go, The Seven Basic Plots) -  these are things that make us who we are. Equally no doubt, is the fact that we love to constantly revisit these arguments. To paraphrase Douglas Adams, with proof there could be no debate. And where would that leave us.

I was prompted to dig into the story behind the picture on my wall, when David Brain questioned whether it was real or photoshopped. The answer – very real – and the bloke in the lighthouse was lucky to get back inside in time!

Brings a whole new meaning to leaving the door ajar

So, today was the day. In a rash moment of parental materialism I agreed with my son Ben that if he could raise half of the cost of a Wii, I would provide the second half. Never have I seen a boy work, save, plan so hard. Finally the day has come, we nipped out to town at lunchtime to pick one up – having reserved it by phone, such is the Wii demand.

Ben’s nipped out, otherwise I would no doubt be on the thing right now – but it has already taken pride of place next to the telly in the front room.

Bowling, anyone?

On Sunday I was fortunate to attend (and shift some books) at the Rush European convention Eucon. It was a great day, most people seemed to agree – luminaries of the Rush story Terry Brown (who keynoted), Howard Ungerleider and Andrew MacNaughtan were all present, and a good time was had by all, capped off by a stonking Rush gig in the evening!

Thanks to Ashley for inviting me, and to everybody else for making me feel so welcome.

I’ve kicked off a new blog relating to my more geeky side, that is, my professional persona at Freeform Dynamics.

It’s called Total Immersion – both a statement of intent and a cry for help

A number of the posts so far are test posts, i.e. I don’t know what the format will end up like, but for now the most important thing is that I get writing.

Fill yer boots!

Now the first thing I should say is that I’m still in “digestive recovery mode” following last week’s most excellent Mumbai adventure. So, I had to leave my seat more often than I would have liked… Equally, I’d bought a ticket at the back of the hall due entirely to lateness of the decision, it was only a few weeks ago I knew where I was going to be. Speaking of lateness, a burst watermain in the Greenford area led to me arriving 20 minutes after the show had started.

So, perhaps unsurprisingly, I was feeling a little detached.

Things seemed to kick off quite slowly, like the band were going through the motions… but about half way through the first set they seemed to come alive, like someone turned on the lights. Or perhaps the lasers. Overall it was a good gig, a fine gig but maybe not a great gig, from my distant standpoint. The sound was reputedly much better than other shows so far on the UK leg of the tour, and the light show was superlative as always – I was left wondering how an arena could possibly be filled without such a thing. We idolise the bands, but where would any of them on these massive stages be without the lighting rigs?

From the gods, the view was of a nearly packed hall having a great time. Hands were waving, voices were singing along, applause was forthcoming particularly it has to be said for some of the old classics, but also such songs as One Little Victory and for Neil’s drum solo. Personal highlights were Natural Science, Between the Wheels and Subdivisions, which will always take me right back to the Laserium Signals show, goodness knows how many years ago.

Preaching to the converted maybe, but then, why not.  

I was only in Mumbai for 3 days as I had to get back for a funeral (yesterday), which was a shame, but it was long enough to make a lasting impression. My first thoughts were very much from the perspective of a westernised rabbit finding himself in the headlights of another culture, so rather than attempting to rewrite them, here’s a snippet of an email I wrote to an Indian friend.

- The general feeling of industriousness was telling. In England there have been examples of people feeling threatened by people coming over to the UK and working far too hard compared with their western peers. Catching a glimpse of the other side of the fence, where such effort appears absolutely the norm and not the exception, really put things into perspective for me. Meeting the staff at TekPlus was great, 10 MBA university graduates all with such drive and enthusiasm! India has so much to offer, and very clearly, it will be a major economic power in the future (in some areas of course, it already is).

- The amount of construction work going on was stunning. One day I took a rickshaw to Andheri (west) from where I was staying, in Andheri (East), and saw plenty of new buildings going up; on another day I headed south in a taxi to the Gateway of India, and saw a great deal of development as well on that journey. I understand in some areas of Mumbai, property can cost as much as in Manhattan.

- I had some good conversations, for example with a diamond seller with whom I shared a table at the local restaurant. He was saying how it was difficult for the poor, as successful businesses and people were getting richer, pushing prices up beyond what poorer people could pay. Square footage is doubling in price where I was staying, for example, due to a new micro-train being planned.

- The seeming contradictions between rich and poor, as both rub shoulders, was quite a surprise to my untrained eye. This was entirely down to my perceptions of course, but to see people from all walks of life going about their own business right next to each other was very different to how things are generally in the West (where we like to partition things up, and there is much fear and resentment). I was staying in Andheri (East), near the railway station ? so it was certainly not a ?sanitised? tourist resort but equally, I had aircon in my hotel and a hot shower which I took to be a luxury. Many people were sleeping on the street outside.

- The media, I was an avid reader of newspapers while I was there ? gave me a great deal of insight as well, both into cultural differences and local issues. In general I would read with interest something differently presented to here (“Guidelines for hugging in the workplace,” for example), and then almost immediately think of several examples of similar contradictions in my own culture. Interestingly though, I did find (in the papers and during the days) more examples of cultural alignment than I found differences, which helped make me feel quite comfortable wherever I was.

To my surprise I was not daunted by the squalor in various places but neither was I unaffected by it, nor the bustle and the noise. Overall, I found people very welcoming, accepting and helpful, and I didn?t feel particularly threatened. The obvious question of course is, “why should I be?” but then, it was my first time in a very new place, by myself, where I really did feel I stuck out like a sore thumb. It won’t be my last – I have already been invited to come and speak again at another conference, and also to be a visiting lecturer at a University in South India for a couple of weeks. We’ll have to see what develops but equally, I’m very much looking forward to going back and I have no doubt I shall be spending a lot of time in India in the future.

Looks like I wasn’t the only person writing about travelling in India last week, I defer to the greater experience and I’ll have to read the book!

I’ve been invited to India to give a presentation at a conference tomorrow, so I flew in 36 hours early to see what I could learn from the place. Having arrived yesterday lunchtime (it’s now 7am the next morning), I thought I should make some notes because experiences may well end up overwritten by today’s events. So, here goes:

- Jet Airways – very comfortable flight from LHR, even managed to get some sleep (however, recommendation: never fly with half-finished dental work)

- Arrival at airport and exchanged 35 quid to 2700 rupees. It looked like a lot of money (and as things turned out, it is). Met by B.D., the conference organiser who took me to the taxi rank, past a row of ancient-looking black cars in various states of dilapidation. No, wait, that is the taxi rank. We get in and I look round for seat belt. Denied.

- The journey offers quite immediate presentation of the complexities and contradictions of India. At least I think it does, not having been here long enough. In the road sit some women, a girl picking nits from her mother’s hair. Pass the conference centre, very posh, and almost immediately a set of slum dwellings by the side of the road. Most of roadside is covered with stalls, shops, and people sit, squat or lie just about anywhere, many asleep in the noon sun.

- Hotel Highway Inn is unremarkable but comfortable, friendly staff. Set back from the road right in the middle of an area I would have baulked at staying in, if it hadn’t been pre-booked. Oh well, in for the experience I think, clutching my laptop just a little too tightly to my side. Room has shower, TV, and a whopping fan on the ceiling. And a noisy but serviceable aircon unit. There is no Internet access, when I enquire I’m sent to a small shop across the way, which does indeed have access for a single computer but no laptop connectivity. Even the phrase “laptop connectivity” is starting to sound a little alien. I buy a bottle of lemonade and return to the hotel, planning to head into town where I am sure there’ll be the usual Starbucks, Wifi, street painters, book shops… hang on, where exactly did I think I was again???

- I enquire at reception for a map, and I ask how to get to the Gateway to India – one of the first places that popped up on the tourist sites on the Blackberry (not totally unconnected then), and incidentally, where the last ships set sail for Britain as India was decolonialised, or whatever the word is. Incidentally, today is Gandhi day, for added poignancy and (so I am told) less traffic. I assume – wrongly of course – that the tourist areas will have such facilities as the average incomer (me) might expect. i.e. Wifi. The receptionist, in broken English, firmly steers me away from attempting to use the train system, and so instead I get in another taxi.

I should at this point stress that I know I was singularly unprepared for this trip, for a whole stack of reasons. The unpreparedness signalled itself in a number of forms, not least my usual catch-up-on-email-on-plane-ready-to-upload-when-I-arrive habit, which was why I was rather hooked on the idea of finding a Wifi signal. I’d already established I could get GPRS but there were some rather large file transfers waiting to take place and given wireless roaming, I didn’t want to get back to find a bill for more than the cost of the flight. Besides, it gave me something to focus on, so into town I headed.

The round trip journey was about 5 hours, spent in taxis, motorised rickshaws (Italian scooters on steroids) and walking. I was offered drugs twice, women once, and I had a man grab my ear as if that would make me more likely to want him to drill it with a piece of not-so-sterilised metal. I visited two tailors who made me feel very uncomfortable about the fact I didn’t – no, I really didn’t – need a suit right now. Down a dark, back alley full of cats and stinking of piss I found, or I was shown an airconditioned oasis of computers believe it or not with Wifi access, 10 rupees for 20 minutes which equates to not very much at all. I gave money to a sunken-cheeked man who really looked like he needed it, then denied it to another man who whipped up tears, not knowing who was telling the truth and who wasn’t. New development everywhere – to the extent that it all looks ramshackle, like a Frenchman’s house when he is half way through his renouvellements.

I agreed to meet with the same taxi driver 2 hours after I left him, ended up arriving back early and waiting an hour, only for him not to turn up and me wondering whether I’d been the idiot for agreeing, or was seen as the idiot for not communicating my request properly. There’s more, so much more, tidbits of experience that would bore anyone stupid if I tried to list them, fragments of understanding that leave me none the wiser but nonetheless feeling I had learned something.

Back at the hotel. I buy a local SIM so at least I can get some GPRS access, with an international calling card. Out for a meal, chat to diamond seller sitting opposite. We talk abut contradictions, call centres, success and failure, the new riches of India making it harder to be poor as the cost of living rises. The value of property in this area has doubled, he tells me, due to a new microtrain that is to pass straight down the main road. And then, I go back to the hotel and sleep, unencumbered by the noise of the aircon or fan, which just about drown out the street outside.

This morning, a shower, and I write this. Today I meet with B.D. and then I visit some of Mitul Mehta’s colleagues at TekPlus. First I need to find some food. Let the day begin.

…is the best brush-off I know for unsolicited callers. As it happens, it’s true – BT has messed up and put my business number in the home phone book. When the callers come however, all I have to do is say the above and they immediately hang up. Superb!