I’ve come to the conclusion that this week’s essay will be the finale of my fifteen-year writing odyssey. An odyssey to share my life, thoughts, childhood stories and travel adventures with you all.

I wrote my first essay back on October 14th, 2011, as I began training for my hike across the Kokoda Track in Papua New Guinea. I was raising money for cancer research after my dad’s passing earlier that year.

Saying out loud that this is the finale feels strange and a little odd after 780 weeks of essays. But like all things, even the great things must come to a natural end.

My initial motivation was to document the stories from my training for Kokoda. That soon morphed into documenting the stories from my childhood that I wanted to save for Zach and Sam. Leading up to this point, I travelled extensively for work. I was worried that if anything happened to me, they wouldn’t know the stories of my life, much like I didn’t know the stories from my own father’s life.

My dad passed away before I was able to really glean those stories from him. I felt a void, and I was adamant that I didn’t want the same thing for Zach and Sam.

After returning from Kokoda, there was a lot of support for me to keep writing. And so began a journey that would last way beyond any expectation I had at the time.

Over the years I changed the name of the essay a couple of times and changed platforms. But all through those years, I had a solid and keen audience to support me. The themes grew beyond my childhood memories to include my travel adventures, and indeed my thoughts and beliefs on life. Together we’ve wandered through musings and life’s lessons, reinvention and family, and the small moments that stay with us long after they’ve passed.

No, it hasn’t all been smooth sailing. I’ve had my detractors over the years. But the thing is, I write these essays primarily for Zach, Sam and me. They capture my thoughts, emotions and feelings at any given point in time. So, to be honest, I have never been too worried about what others may think of them.

I suppose this is natural. As you age, you really begin to stop caring what others think of you. Fortunately, I’ve been in that space for quite some time now, and I’m happy with where I am.

Many of my regulars will also know that I’ve been working on a micro-fiction book for a number of years, Hanoi Dawn. Although it’s not quite finished, this is where I will be focusing my attention so that I can complete it sooner rather than later. As it stands, I’m at 130 episodes, which translates into roughly 45,000 words.

Clearly that’s too short for a novel. I’d need another 30,000 words or so to bring it up to that status. But my objective is to create a screenplay once I’ve finished it. So rather than a novel, I want to turn it into a TV series.

This is the most ambitious and intensive project I’ve ever worked on. The series is set in Ho Chi Minh City during the early 1980s, so the amount of research required is staggering. I want it to be accurate, both in terms of the locations and the history surrounding that period.

It’s a very different type of writing, and in many ways I will miss the weekly routine of writing and publishing. Friday has been essay day for fifteen years. Changing that routine will be a little challenging, but I’m confident I will adapt, just as I did when I first began writing my essays back in 2011.

In many ways, this isn’t my finale per se, but merely a change of focus.

Before I go, I want to say thank you.

To my regular readers, thank you for showing up Friday after Friday. Some of you have been here since my Kokoda training days. Others found me somewhere along the way. Many of you shared these essays with friends and family, and that is how a small weekly habit grew into something I never expected.

Writing every week isn’t always easy. Some weeks the words came quickly. Other weeks I sat in front of a blank page and wondered whether to keep going. What kept me going was knowing you were there. Your emails, comments and quiet notes told me when a piece had landed at just the right moment. I read every one of them.

You gave me a reason to pay closer attention to the world. You made me a better writer, and a better listener.

To Zach and Sam, these essays were always for you. Fifteen years of stories, thoughts and adventures now sit in one place. I hope you come back to them whenever you need to. And I hope they fill the gap that I was left with when Dad passed.

Every good story needs an ending. This one is mine. Another is just beginning…

Thank you for your time, your loyalty and your kindness. It has been a privilege to write for you.

Warm regards

Terence

Prologue:

Here are the names and links to all of the essays if you’re interested in sifting through the archives – feel free and enjoy:

 

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