This is part of a ongoing series that will take you through the steps of publishing our hiking guidebook
Correspondence with the publisher was going well, but you can’t count your chickens (or should I say you shouldn’t count your tanuki skins before the hunt as they are apt to say in Japan). You don’t want to be set up for a letdown, so I continued to climb mountains while having this potential guidebook lodged safely hidden away as an afterthought until March 2016, when the publisher asked for our mailing addresses.
We received an agreement to sign and a large set of author guidelines. Our task was simple: produce a 60,000 word guidebook with 200 photos and clearly annotated maps with a strict submission deadline of April 30th, 2018. Here we go.
The guidelines are pretty straightforward but very intimidating when dealing with a new publisher, who has firm rules regarding writing style, punctuations and abbreviations. It’s a lot to work your head around, especially when reading them in advance before even beginning a project.
The other issue is with consistency of style. Since there are two of us writing the book, there should be a flawless integration of prose between hike descriptions written by two completely different authors. Readers of the book should not be able to discern which author wrote each particular section of the book. This may seem easy for two authors residing in the same country, but the issue is further complicated when working with someone from an entirely different part of the globe. I would need to up my game and study more about British vernacular and spellings. With Tom being the lead author, he would be able to ‘remix’ my writing into something a bit more palpable to a British audience and to more closely match his writing style.
In addition to the agreement and guidelines, the publisher sent along a collection of other Cicerone guides that we could use for reference. These proved invaluable and I actually read through the Corfu guidebook from front to back (possibly my first and last time to read a guidebook from start to finish, especially for a place I’ve never visited), highlighting key British vocabulary such as ‘waymark’ and ‘tarmac’ that I could borrow when writing my own hiking descriptions.
Tom and I split up the mountains and I was given the responsibility for the entire Minami Alps section of the guidebook. For those who are unaware, the Minami Alps is one of the most remote mountains ranges in Japan, with no easy access from any one direction. I gladly took on the challenge, as it gave me an excuse to revisit some of my old haunts from my Hyakumeizan days.