“How do you write a book?” I was asked yesterday. It’s simple, you just put one word in front of the other. And on and on and on until, bingo: a book!
Except, of course, it’s not so simple. You might start with an idea and a nicely planned route, but soon you lose your way, have to retrace your words, think you’re heading to a beautifully clear viewpoint but instead become enmeshed in a miserable thicket from where no clear path emerges. After months of solitary struggle with a two-dimensional ream of black words on a white screen, the goal becomes submission – the idea of an actual book feels remote and no longer anything to do with the daily wrestle of words.
So now, seeing the three dimensions of bound pages with their substance, their physical weight, feels miraculous. I have no idea anymore how it happened. But it has: Adventures In The Anthropocene: A journey to the heart of the planet we made is now a thing!
Wandering Gaia 