My first ever blog post. I wish I could convey just how uncomfortable I am with the whole concept of an online presence. Some of you might know of my google-free phone, and my attempts to hide from every internet conglomerate. But, I’ve been told that writers without an online presence have gone extinct. My books need to be promoted, and I need to better myself. Do or do not, there is no try. So, let’s start at the beginning.

There are many beginnings that qualify. With regard to these books, the definitive answer should be the winter of late 2019, and two months shy of the Covid pandemic. Back in November 2019, I led an archaeological excavation in the old city centre of Rekem, Belgium. It was a long drive home, and my employer arranged a place nearby to stay during the work week. We excavated seventeenth century brick foundations and cellars, and to our surprise, a single Merovingian grave. My first, which included a seax, a spearhead, arrowheads, and silver-inlaid belt buckles.

Most of my team members were Flemish, and went home each day. Not so for me and one other colleague. During those twelve weeks, we drifted along our fair share of cottages and B&B’s. As luck would have it, my colleague spent each of those evenings buried in a master’s thesis. With nothing much to occupy my time, I tried my hand at something I promised myself years ago: to pen a book. Well, it turned out to be three. The how of it, I’ll divulge in another blog post. I might as well scribble the second one ever while I’m at it.

Lhasa, Tibet

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