Forgive me, I am still here but it’s been a while since I’ve done it.
Blogged that is.
Last time, if you remember, was when bro finished his walk from the top of Scotland to the tip of England raising over ten grand in the process for Macmillan Cancer Support. Well done indeed. Personally I was so exhausted by the process of describing this act of madness day by day that I went for a lie down in a darkened room and I’m afraid to say that I’ve only just risen.
But riz I is and I’m pleased to say that I have a special treat for you all in this effort to resurrect this look at stuff, more stuff and stuff like that.
Now you may be aware that I’m not normally a book blogger. But an opportunity came my way to look at an autobiography of a chap that I’ve know on on Facebook for a few years now. He’s been kind enough to let me play on his blog a couple of times and it’s only fair that I return the favour.
But here’s the rub. Not only is Seumas Gallagher a fine author, but it turns out that if he sang Sinatra – which he can do – you’d know that he truly has done it ‘his way.’
Hailing from the same streets as Sir Alex and the Big Yin he, like my brother, left Scotland behind albeit for a very different sort of adventure.
That this man has in real life needed his own personal armed bodyguards should tell you all that you need to know of a tale of life lived to the full. But his story is also a surprising reflection of humanity, warts and all.
Strangely, he is still here and a very good read it is too.
So, let’s get to the nitty gritty and introduce you to the man himself – take it away Seumas.
A Journey to myself – writing my autobiography
For authors, the old maxim is often quoted, ‘Write about what you know.’
I’ve been at this writing game properly for over a decade now, with a back list of five crime thrillers, a book of my poetry, a self-help marketing and promotional guide for authors, and almost 2,000 blog posts. Add to that a catalogue of half-a-dozen ghostwriting assignments for other people’s ‘autobiographies’, and it’s of little wonder that the thought occurred to put my own life story and experiences to print. ‘Write about what you know.’
What happened next was a sometime bewildering, sometime painful, sometime joyful, but always exhilarating, writing trip of discovery. I now understand more clearly than ever before just how much I am truly an amalgam of everything, everybody and everywhere with which and with whom I have ever been associated.
Were there regrets? Of course. Probably far too many to register. I doubt if more than a handful of people on this planet have led a flawless, blameless existence. But I do know that every single incident and experience, good, bad and indifferent, was necessary to bring me to this moment in my life. And I would not seek to change one second of it.
It is amazing how memories bring back not only the plain telling of the story, but for me, it also recalled the feelings and emotions that I had in most of them. I felt them again, and again, and again, some with laughter, but also many of them attended with a quiet tear.
I believe, at this age, finally, I am aware of who and what I am as a person. I like the man I see in the mirror each morning, although it was not always thus. I have acquired a tolerance of myself and my own shortcomings, but more importantly, I have learned to ‘live and let live’ in relation to others whom I meet day to day.
What surprises me, is that having published the book just a few weeks ago, I find that I am remembering many other things which could have been included in the memoir. I will resist the temptation to edit online the Amazon Kindle version, which is easy to do, on the same premise that once I finish writing my novels, I leave them finished.
To all my author friends and even those who have not yet caught the writing addiction, you may want to consider a similar project. It is a wondrous journey to yourself.
Fact is often more incredible than fiction.
Seumas Gallacher has survived long enough to savour places, characters and events for more than forty years in the Far East and the Arabian Gulf.
He started life in Scotland, travelled far and wide as a wannabe Trainee Master of the Universe, but the Universe had other plans for him.
From a career in banking, he escaped to become a corporate trouble-shooter.
He discovered the joy and torture of becoming a wordsmith, writing five best-selling crime novels, a book of poetry, and being hyper-active on social media.
‘Strangely, I’m Still Here’ is his story.
Amazon Kindle universal link: mybook.to/StrangelyImStillHere
Thank you Seumas and I should perhaps point out that, unlike my brother, his loyalties lie with a team from the right side of Manchester!
Speak to you all soon – be good!
Contrary to expectations the penultimate Day 64 of the Jogle dawned bright and sunny. And even better, it stayed that way!
Leaving Portreath the Jogleress was tempted to go by Penny Farthing down to St. Ives. However they took the local lanes in an effort to save time as a rendezvous was planned later with the Jogleressette and Mini Jogler.
As the weather was much improved so was the quality of photos taken along the way.
They spent a pleasant hour wandering along the sands, pausing only to take silly photos. Sue must have snapped this as Steve was obviously playing the flute.
They passed the Padstow lifeboat station at Trevose Head. It was built in 1823 and now houses the Spirit of Padstow, a Tamar-class lifeboat.
In Port Issac they came across the traditional Cornish pastime of community ironing – on the beach.
A rare shot of the Jogler and Jogleress together taken by a very nice Swiss lady. Must have been Heidi – perhaps the cows were hers? Or was that goats? Anyway – it does demonstrate very well the choice of headgear prior to…
Once again, Steve, as proof of his schooling many, many years ago will tell you that these rock serrations are evidence of wave cut platforms. Take no notice – he’s just showing off.
mistybooks 
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