OVER THREE MONTHS ago I announced my third book: One Year One Mountain. I thought it was time for an update.
One Year One Mountain is the book I wanted to write. At its core, it’s a love letter to nature and to Colorado’s mountains. I’ve spent the past quarter-century here in the Rockies, wandering through quiet forests and camping in remote glacier-carved cirques, sinking ever-deeper into ‘place’. I’ve grown deeply attached to the state’s unfrequented natural corners. The urge to share what these places are and what the experience of them means had simply become too strong to resist.
To give the broad theme of ‘love for wild Colorado’ more focus I centered the book on a year-long journey to get to know one place – a single mountain that could be representative of any mountain in Colorado, or that could, arguably, represent any natural place anywhere on the planet. The narrative I’ve written about this year shares the events of the journey and the discoveries it led to, including one major discovery that has changed how I look at nature and my place within it. One Year One Mountain also examines the many benefits of living ‘a nature habit’. And, to a lesser extent, it’s a sequel to my first two books: a memoir about life as a middle-aged man to follow on from my memoirs about life as a restless, questing, forever searching twenty-something youth.
As I mentioned, it’s the book I wanted to write. In fact, it’s the book I needed to write. But now I have to turn it into a book other people might wish to read.
And that’s the hard bit!
After finishing the manuscript in early January I turned away from it. I sent it out to eight trusted ‘beta readers’ then did my absolute best to banish it from mind. Even without the beta readers this distance would have been beneficial. I needed space to separate myself from what I thought the book was and what I wanted it to be so that I could return to it fresh and see it as it really is.
Too long by far was one of the first aspects I got to see…
From early April onwards, beta reader feedback has been flowing in. Now, seeing the book as it really is has become easier. My beta readers were charged with giving me honest feedback – to not hold back or worry about my feelings and to share what they really thought, flaws and all – and this most of them have generously and bravely done. To be honest, some of the feedback is hard to take. No no no, I find myself reacting. You’re missing the entire point! But, of course, this is most likely my fault. Thanks to the feedback I can now see where I’ve lacked clarity and have failed to explain. I can see where I succeeded in my goals and in the messages I aimed to share, and where I failed. I can see where I over elaborated and where I under elaborated. I can see where the narrative holds attention and where it loses it. And I can see where my opinions and insights grate against what many people might want to read.
This latter aspect is the most challenging. Some of the insights I’ve gained from thirty-eight years of deep nature immersion, and from my journey to know only one place, appear to be difficult for readers to relate to. Getting certain opinions across without alienating readers is going to be a fine balancing act. How much do I cut? How much do I leave? How much should I dilute my own truth to appease a potential audience?
After all, I care passionately about what I have to say. But I also care with equal strength about a reader’s experience.
It’s all a bit of dilemma.
Overall, the benefits from receiving critical pre-publication feedback can’t be overstated. Being able to see the book from perspectives other than my own makes a profound difference to what needs to be written and how it’s written. I do intend to stick to my truth and trust the validity of my own insights, and I do intend to stick with themes that some readers might not agree with but that I feel, deep down, need to be shared. But I can at least see where I have to work harder to explain them.
The next stage is the rewrite, a bigger rewrite than I’d originally hoped would need to be done. In truth, I’m intimidated by it. I wouldn’t mind avoiding it! Back in January I’d thought the book was essentially complete. But now I know it isn’t. In volume, roughly a quarter of the book should probably go. Certain themes have to be tightened. For effective storytelling and reader engagement, entire chapters and events have to be cut or merged. It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to take discipline, ruthlessness, and real work.
Once this rewrite is done, hopefully by June, I’ll pass the manuscript on to my editor, the talented Alex Roddie, whose values and beliefs align closely with my own – or so I believe. He’ll offer further structural insights for another potential rewrite, and then, after that, will come the final edit. And then, time will be needed to explore all my publishing options, to see if the book might appeal to large established publishers with more reach than my own small indie press will ever have. I owe it to myself (and to my potential audience) to at least see.
Because of all this, publication might lie further off than I’d previously hoped. I’d originally aimed to launch the book before Christmas but now think this date unlikely. ‘The journey’, it is now clear, still has some distance to go.
But I have no doubt it will be worth it. Nature has taught me the value of ‘not rushing’ – the value of patience. And it has taught me that the more effort one expends the more precious a destination becomes. My destination – a book that has value to both myself and to others – is worth the time and work.
I hope my readers will one day agree, and will forgive me for the delay.
