The Camino… Seriously?
That seems to be the collective sentiment surrounding my latest literary endeavour, “Silent Trail.” Generally, when I release a new book, there’s a little burst of excitement—like confetti at a party—followed by my friends’ fawning compliments and a few obligatory critiques. But this time? Crickets. Not even the sound of a single enthusiastic chirp accompanied the release of this spy mystery with a sprinkle of romance, set against the breathtaking backdrop of the Camino de Santiago.
As it debuted on Amazon Kindle, the wild excitement led to a grand total of… one download. Yes, you read that right. Just one. And guess what? I traced that lone purchase back to a distant relative in the UK who was likely curious about whether I’m still alive and writing—or just lost in a sea of existential dread over the state of my literary career. I suppose that’s what family is for, right?
Now, if I had any inkling that the book itself was poorly written or if the storyline was so uninviting that it could double as a sleep aid, I might have taken it in stride. But alas, apart from my editor and a very brave beta reader who deserves a medal for their fortitude, the words remain as unread as a tax document.
Having published thirteen other works, I’ve come to the realisation that when it comes to the Camino as a subject, it’s the literary equivalent of an overcooked spaghetti dish—everywhere you look, someone’s already written about their adventures, complete with emotional epiphanies and perhaps a post in a hiking forum. As if that weren’t enough, I had the audacity to toss in the Knights Templar into the mix! Yes, thanks to Dan Brown, there’s been a gold rush on stories about these medieval mystery men. And here I am, thinking I’m a culinary genius with my secret recipe just as everyone else is drawing their swords for yet another feast.
“Silent Trail” is a whopping 100,000+ words—so believe me when I say it wasn’t penned in a fit of inspiration over a single espresso! But being pulled along by the magic of my own pilgrimage, the words flew onto the page faster than a Spanish tortilla at a tapas bar.
Alas, it appears “Silent Trail” is destined to gather dust on the back of my bookcase, likely joining the ranks of my other great “ideas that never saw the light of day.” Meanwhile, I ponder what new and shiny concept might capture the world’s fancy in the coming year. It would be great to know if “Silent Trail” truly stinks or if it just needs a little nudge from a few willing readers to get things rolling. But until then, it seems I’m left with the painfully ironic reality that you need readers to get reviews—and right now, I’m all out of those. So, dear reader, if you ever catch me mumbling about “another bloody book about the Camino,” you’ll know exactly what’s brewing in my mind!
