How We’re Writing a Book Here in Siberia Against the Backdrop of... Well, Just Read It

I don’t know whether you’ve noticed that, apart from the stories about how Andrey is once again crossing the South Pacific right now, there hasn’t been anything on the page for ages. Every day I remind myself about three unfinished posts, one of them about our friend and the fire that destroyed his life’s work. The others are— about our young sailor’s school and the road to a dream. I haven’t shared them because either I haven’t had the time, or I’m afraid it might turn into a bout of whining. Because there are reasons to whine, but there are also plenty of reasons to be happy. The main focus of my last four months has been THE BOOK. This is already the third book I’ve written, but the first one that will actually be published. The deadline has been pushed back several times because our original agreement didn’t allow for force majeure: Andrey left in September, and I drove halfway across the country single-handed, holding several events along the way without the captain. Village Life A month later, the frosts arrived in the Altai Mountains. So I had to finish filling gaps with expanding foam, caulk, plane boards and repair a 150-square-metre, two-storey house all by myself. Nastya took care of the household, but then spent a couple of months living in Novosibirsk. Meanwhile, the young sailor and I got lost amid school and after-school activities, coal, firewood, repairs and a worn-out heating system that leaks. It’s January Already Then my mother broke her back, then dislocated her shoulder twice in a row, and on three occasions I spent several hours in emergency rooms and hospitals. Mum is at our house now. At the same time, I had some health issues of my own, and I’m getting them treated. The Book And the book is the main thing I’ve been doing in Siberia over the past few months. I barely see friends who live in the neighbouring courtyards. And yesterday Lada climbed onto my lap and said, “Mum, when are you coming back to us? I miss you.” For a long time, it seemed as though the book would never be finished. My thanks to editor Sergey Borisov and publisher Vasily Senatorov for their patience—they haven’t reproached me even once for being such a slowcoach. The work isn’t finished yet. Five chapters out of twenty-two remain. So the book won’t be out by 8 March and the Moscow Boat Show (. But it will be published in the spring; I can already see the finish flag waving to me, and I’m racing towards it. The result is still rough, but it’s already tangible. You’ll be able to judge it for yourselves soon. When I finish the final line, I’ll get drunk and climb onto the roof to dance (crossed out) start posting excerpts and photographs and editing videos. The light at the end of the tunnel is in sight. Thank You for Being with Us Keep your fingers crossed, guys. And thank you for your loyalty, warmth and patience. This is such an emotionally difficult time for me that... I don’t know what to say ). It’s just hard. I hope it isn’t like that for everyone. Well, the next post will tell it like it is—about the Southern Ocean, through the depths of which the schooner Elsi is now hurtling amid six-metre waves, with Captain Daniil Gavrilov, Chief Mate Andrey Klochkov and four crew members aboard. Well, there—I’ve told you. And how are you doing? Are you coping with winter?