Tell us something about yourself that not many people know.
My day starts with a French press and ends with a glass of Malbec.

Why did you choose the themes in your book and were you aware of them from the start?
Honestly? I had no idea what themes would emerge—I was too busy figuring out how to write a book the hard way. But in the end, I’m bloody proud of it. Beijing Bound isn’t just a memoir; it’s a way to experience China—its people, its culture, its food—in a way no guidebook ever could.

How difficult was it for you to write this book? Did you face any obstacles?
Mate, let me tell you about the absolute CHAOS of trying to find time to write! It’s like herding cats while juggling flaming chainsaws – you need some proper structure or you’ll go completely bonkers. Look, I used to think editing was about as fun as a spider in your Speedos. Just wanted to bang out the first draft and call it a day, yeah? But crikey, was I wrong! The editing process – that’s where your writing goes from “yeah, nah” to “YEAH!” That’s where you find the gold, where you really get to play with language and ideas until they shine. Trust me, once you build some proper routines (even if it’s just parking yourself at a cafe with a flat white for an hour each morning), the words start flowing. And when you embrace the rewriting process – that’s when the real magic happens. It’s like watching your words put on their fancy party clothes and start dancing.

What are your writing habits or idiosyncrasies?

I’d love to say I have a disciplined routine—wake up at dawn, sip a perfectly brewed tea, smash out 2,000 words before lunch—but no. Writing, for me, is a mix of procrastination, panic, and occasional brilliance. I’ll sit down, get distracted, deep-dive into some random Wikipedia hole (do I need to know the history of Sichuan peppercorns right now? Apparently, yes), then suddenly, at an ungodly hour, inspiration strikes. That said, I do need a good café or a quiet spot, preferably with snacks. And I talk to myself—a lot. Out loud. Full conversations. It’s weird, but hey, whatever gets the words on the page, right?

What would you do differently next time?
Plan better. Beijing Bound was written the hard way—trial, error, existential crises, repeat. Next time, I’d outline more, instead of stitching together stories like some deranged quilt-maker at 3 AM. I’d also trust my instincts sooner instead of second-guessing every sentence. Oh, and I’d be kinder to myself. Writing a book is brutal, but I spent way too much time beating myself up instead of enjoying the process. Next time, more snacks, less self-doubt.

With hindsight, what would you say to yourself as a fledgling writer?
“Mate, stop overthinking and just write. It’s going to be messy, awkward, and at times, you’ll wonder if you’ve made a huge mistake—but that’s all part of it. Trust your instincts, embrace the chaos, and don’t be afraid to sound like you. Also, writing isn’t just about getting words down; it’s about living. Go out, meet people, get lost in new places—those are the stories that matter. And for the love of God, be kinder to yourself. Writing a book is hard enough without you being your own worst critic. Oh, and stock up on snacks—you’re going to need them.”

If you worked with a professional editor, what was the experience like?
Like therapy, but with more track changes. A good editor doesn’t just fix typos—they challenge you, push you to be sharper, clearer, and, let’s be honest, less self-indulgent. At first, it’s brutal seeing your precious words slashed and reworked, but then you realise: they’re right (mostly). Working with a professional editor taught me to kill my darlings, trust the reader, and not cling to a sentence just because it sounds clever. The best part? That moment when you read their feedback, let the ego bruises heal, and rewrite something a hundred times better. Would I do it again? Absolutely. Preferably with snacks.

What’s next for your writing?
I’m deep in the trenches of writing the sequel—because apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson the first time. It’s bigger, messier, and dives even deeper into life abroad, the weird, wonderful, and sometimes absurd moments that come with it. If Beijing Bound was about discovery, this one’s about what happens after—the complications, the reckonings, the unexpected turns. I’m also experimenting with new ways to tell stories, maybe something more personal, more reflective. But for now, it’s head down, words up, and hoping the next book doesn’t take quite as many existential crises to finish.