Newsletter #3
Unexpected Journeys
When Richard and I rode home after ten months on the road, I thought the journey was over.
As it turns out, writing The Accidental Motorcyclist has become a journey in its own right.
This month I'd love to share a few of the unexpected places it's taken me – from choosing a cover with your help, to discovering what it really means to write a memoir, and finally to one chapter that reached beyond the page and into my own life.
I hope you enjoy this ‘behind-the-scenes’ glimpse.
| At Land's End, UK, the road finished, but the story was only just beginning. |
Behind the Scenes: Learning to Write a Book
People often imagine writing as a solitary pursuit (I know I did). A writer sitting quietly at a desk, waiting for inspiration to strike. For me, it couldn't have been more different. By the time I sat down to write the memoir, I already had more than 45,000 words of blog posts and journal entries. The challenge wasn't finding the story – it was discovering what the story was really all about.
Almost every chapter of The Accidental Motorcyclist began life by being read aloud to Richard. We'd sit together as I worked through each draft, often stopping every few paragraphs to reminisce about a place we'd visited or an encounter we'd shared. Sometimes he'd remember a detail I'd completely forgotten - a conversation at a border crossing, the smell of a market, the look on someone's face, or a moment that deserved a place in the story.
Those conversations became part of the writing process, and the manuscript is richer because of them.
Since December, I've also had the privilege of working with author, editor and mentor Gina Balarin. Every fortnight we'd sit down together and dismantle another chapter, exploring fresh ways to deepen the story, sharpen the writing and uncover new possibilities.
One of the biggest lessons Gina taught me was that every chapter needs a purpose beyond simply telling the story.
She would ask three deceptively simple questions:
What do you want the reader to think?
What do you want them to feel?
What do you want them to do after they've finished this chapter?
Calling All Artists…
I'd love your help with another part of bringing The Accidental Motorcyclist to life.
The book is divided into six parts, and I'd like each one to begin with a simple, evocative line drawing that captures the spirit of that section of the journey. I'm also looking for someone to create a series of hand-drawn route maps to accompany the book.
I'm imagining clean (minimalist) black-and-white illustrations - something timeless that complements the writing rather than competes with it (think sketchbook rather than photograph).
This is a paid opportunity, and I'd love to work with an artist who enjoys travel, storytelling and creating illustrations that evoke a sense of place.
If this sounds like you, I'd love to hear from you. Please send me a few examples of your work, or feel free to forward this newsletter to someone who might be interested.
From the Manuscript: The Distance Between Us
Some chapters were easy to write.
This wasn't one of them.
For most of my life, my relationship with my mother has been complicated. Like many families, ours carries old hurts, misunderstandings and long silences that seemed impossible to bridge.
When I first began writing The Accidental Motorcyclist, I never imagined those experiences would find their way onto the page. I thought I was writing about a motorcycle ride across continents.
Instead, I found myself writing about another journey entirely.
As the manuscript unfolded, I realised that if I wanted to understand my own story, I also needed to understand my mother's. That led to one of the most unexpected moments of the writing process: sitting down to interview her.
For the first time in many years, we spoke not as mother and daughter trying to defend old positions, but as two people trying to understand each other's experiences. It didn't erase the past or magically heal every wound, but it did something just as important.
It allowed us to listen.
One chapter in the book, The Distance Between Us, explores our recent five-year estrangement and the tentative steps we have taken towards reconciliation.
Here's a small excerpt.
“The strange thing about estrangement, though, is that it doesn't end attachment. It removes access. I didn't stop thinking about my mother and she didn't stop thinking about me. We learned how to live with the absence instead. Then, out of the blue, my mother rang me. Not to explain anything. Not to revisit the past. She just needed to hear my voice. She needed to know I was alive. And the five-year distance ended.”
Looking back now, I realise that writing this book wasn't simply an opportunity to tell my story. It became an opportunity to better understand someone else's. Since finishing this chapter, Mum and I have continued to grow closer. We're spending time together again - something that once felt almost unimaginable. Our relationship isn't perfect, but it's real, and these days we're choosing connection over distance.
The Votes Are In
Thank you to everyone who took the time to vote in the Accidental Motorcyclist Cover Contest. I honestly wasn't sure whether there would be a clear favourite. As it turns out... there was.
The overwhelming winner was the cover featuring the windblown, dirty-faced, slightly weathered motorcyclist staring straight at the camera. The "Dirty Girl" cover wasn't staged. The photo was taken at the end of a long, challenging day in western Tanzania, featuring savage Tsetse flies and brutal roads. As I took off my helmet, the campsite owner tried to suppress a laugh. Only when I looked in the mirror did I realise why: my face was completely coated in dirt, sweat and mud. Richard snapped a photo, and that wonderfully unplanned moment will now become the book’s cover.
I loved reading your comments about why this was your favourite cover. Many of you were drawn to its authenticity. Rather than the polished, glossy image we often associate with travel books, you saw something that reflected the reality of long-distance motorcycle travel - grit, vulnerability and adventure. Several people commented that it made them curious about the woman behind the helmet.
One comment, in particular, captured exactly what I had hoped the cover would convey:
“It evokes a sense of both the joy (your smile) and grittiness required (dirty face) to be a touring motorcyclist.”
The vote has also confirmed something I've been discovering throughout the writing process: this book isn't really about motorcycles. They're simply the vehicle that carried us into extraordinary landscapes, unexpected friendships, difficult conversations and moments of reflection.
The cover needed to hint at that, too.
The winning concept will now be sent to a professional designer, who will transform our rather amateurish (and AI-assisted!) mock-up into something worthy of a bookstore shelf. There will undoubtedly be plenty of refinements before the final version is revealed, but thanks to your feedback, we're starting from the right place.
Thank you for helping shape the first impression readers will have of The Accidental Motorcyclist. It's wonderful to know so many of you are travelling this road with me.
At first, I found those questions surprisingly difficult to answer. I'd spent years writing reports, board papers and technical documents, with the goal of communicating information clearly. Memoir writing is something else entirely. Over the past seven months, I’ve learned that it isn’t just about recounting events; it's about inviting readers into an experience and leaving them with something that lingers long after they've turned the page.
Those three questions changed the way I approached every chapter.
Take our visit to the Nduta refugee camp in Tanzania. My first draft simply described what Richard and I saw and experienced. As the manuscript evolved, I realised the chapter wasn't really about us at all. It became an opportunity to explore dignity, privilege and the responsibilities that come with having choices many people never will.
Other chapters changed, too. Sometimes it wasn't the events that needed rewriting, but the emotional thread connecting them. I found myself looking less at what happened and more at why it mattered.
Once Gina and I had shaped the manuscript, it found its way into the hands of a wonderful group of beta readers. Their thoughtful comments, questions and honest feedback helped me identify places where the story wandered, where something needed more explanation, or where a moment deserved a little more space to breathe. To everyone who generously gave their time to read my early (and more recent) drafts – thank you. Your insights have made this a much stronger book.
The manuscript is now with a professional line editor for what I hope will be its final polish. Beyond that, things become a little less certain. I'm still weighing up whether to pursue traditional publication or take the increasingly popular self-publishing route. Each has its own rewards and challenges, so for now I'm keeping an open mind while I focus on making the book the best it can be.
Stories from the Road
The collection of stories on the website continues to grow, each offering a glimpse into moments on the road.
One of my favourites this month is The Three O'Clock Storm.
Travelling by motorcycle means you're completely at the mercy of the weather, and during Kenya's wet season, the afternoon storms arrived with remarkable punctuality. One day, we found ourselves sheltering in the tiny shop of a roadside petrol station, shoulder to shoulder with a handful of locals while rain hammered on the roof and an American soap opera blared from someone's phone.
Nothing extraordinary happened.
Yet somehow, that ordinary hour became one of the moments that really captured the spirit of the journey.
Click HERE to link to Stories from the Road
Writing this memoir has reminded me that journeys don't always take us where we expect.
Sometimes they lead across continents. Sometimes they lead us back to the people we thought we'd lost. And sometimes they simply teach us to see familiar stories through different eyes.
Thank you for continuing to travel this road with me. Your encouragement, thoughtful messages and enthusiasm for the book have meant more than you probably realise.
Until next time,
