That Guy: Prodigal columnist returns from literary quest

A little advice would have saved some lunch. Photo / Anthony Phelps

Opinion

Firstly, I would like to welcome myself back. It's great to be back in the saddle, so to speak, and writing another standard column for an award-winning paper.

Although only three of you actually mentioned it, thousands of you will have noticed that I have had some time off recently.

Where have I been? On a journey of discovery; an expedition, if you like. An expedition that has taken me to the ends of the literary earth in search of my inner voice.

And that journey hasn't been easy. Like Scott of the Antarctic, I was ill-prepared for what lay ahead - the mountains of wintery despair and the back-breaking truths that lay waiting for me in every concealed icy crevasse.

And like Scott's comrade, Captain Oates, early one morning I rather dramatically told my leader that I was off and that "I may be gone for some time".

But, unlike Captain Oates, who stuck to his word and died heroically in an Antarctic blizzard, about 10 minutes later I came back into the literary tent, eager for a cup of hot soup and the chance to spoon in a warm sleeping bag with the new editor - metaphorically speaking, of course.

But if you must know, I have been travelling the length and breadth of the country in a Maui camper-van, drinking with the people and asking them what they wanted from me as a journalist. What stories affect the people of Dunedin? What are the issues facing people in Christchurch?

And the people spoke. But it was only when I returned to head office in Auckland that I realised how pointless this exercise had been, as the paper isn't actually circulated in those regions (Editor's note: Leigh, there are 20 outlets in Christchurch). Had I known this, I probably would have just gone as far as Wellington and avoided a ferry crossing.

But touring the country reminded me that people matter and it put me back in touch with my roots, especially in Christchurch, where I went to university for a year.

So, why the need for such a journey? I felt my columns had become directionless. Sure, I was still tackling the big issues and subjects such as Bigfoot, but what was I really trying to say? I began to question my own literary compass - what if people didn't even want to read about Bigfoot anymore? Should I be focusing on less hard news?

As a writer, once you begin to do this you become a rudderless hack chasing short-term ratings rather than writing columns with the instinct that will be appreciated by mankind hundreds of years from now.

That has always been my goal: to get paid here and now (preferably fortnightly) to write columns that will be appreciated in the future.

I would like to take this opportunity to welcome the new editor. We haven't met formally but we have chatted on the phone and via fax, and I am sure we will be doing so more often over the coming weeks.

We have discussed some of my more unorthodox approaches to writing and we have agreed to disagree on many things, such as what I choose to wear or, in my case, not wear, while I am writing. He will allow me to write naked from the home office and I have agreed that I will at least wear pants if I happen to be writing from the Herald on Sunday offices in the city.

We also agree I need to stop writing columns like this one. Instead, we will focus on "real" topics, real people and there should be less gratuitous sexual content. Clearly, the rest of the paper has got that part covered.

We discussed deadlines and I have accepted that trying to hand my column in at 3am on Sunday morning isn't acceptable. I have also agreed to call off the private detective I hired to watch him around the clock, and to destroy both the originals and negatives of any compromising photos I "said" I had of him, and I am doing so as we speak.

He has agreed to do the same and I look forward to the coming weeks.

(Editor's note: They weren't me, someone had digitally altered those pictures.)