This was written by my father for the book that never was - which is now this blog.
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To those of you who bought this book thinking it was written by BILL BRYSON. I’m afraid it was not. No. It was written by me - Bill Bryson, an entirely different person; in fact, a very different person.
You see, BILL BRYSON is an author, I am not: I’m a photographer. And BILL BRYSON is an American; I’m a Canadian. And BILL BRYSON is barely middle-aged; I’m a Senior Citizen - only barely, mind you.
So you see, if you’re upset by this, I do understand.
Mind you, I have met BILL BRYSON and he is a charming gentleman. He even autographed the first book of his I ever received - Mother Tongue by BILL BRYSON.
Strangely enough, in spite of all the differences between us there are some striking similarities as well. BILL (let’s just call him Bill, I’m sure he won’t mind) came from North America and so did I. Bill went to England as a young man and so did I. Bill got a job in a health care institution and so did I. Bill fell in love and married a health care worker - a Nurse, and so did I - a Radiographer.
However, Bill stayed and raised his family in England for 20 years, I came back to Canada where Barbara and I raised two sons and now have a grandson. Bill is back in the States and continues to write while I am retired and have taken up writing. But, as I indicated earlier, HE’s a writer, I’m a photographer who just thinks he can write.
Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy my book all the same.
Sincerely,
Bill Bryson, 1999
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