I have had much advice from fellow journalists, friends, family, authors and people that have probably never written a word to inform and entertain others; but that single warning seemed about the best.

It came from my good friend, the highly-respected ski writer, Arnie Wilson. He is a bit of a legend in the ski world as he was the first man to ski every day for a year as he travelled the world. 1994 - 365 days without stoping.

365 consecutive days of skiing in 240 resorts in 13 countries; 3,680 miles on skis; more than 4 million vertical feet.

He did it with Lucy Dicker who tragically died in a ski accident in the French off pise resort of La Grave.

Arnie currently edits the magazine Ski+Board and was the skiing correspondent for the Financial Times for more years than he probably cares to remember. (it was 15 if you are reading this Arnie) and he has written for pretty much every publication that counts and many more that don't.

He is also the author of several books on skiing so he knows a thing or two about writing books.

What to do and, more importantly, what not do.

We were seated together at a recent press lunch and he was interested in one of my latest projects; the official history of the British Association of Snowsports Instructors, BASI.

The Association is 50 years old in November 2012 and I have been asked to write their story.

"Look it sounds about one of the dullest books imaginable, the official history of a small organisation full of committees, rules and egos, but actually it is the story of British skiing and will be about some of the most fascinating characters involved in the sport we love," I said to him. "It is about life, death, sex and power."

I needed to say no more.

Arnie got it immediately.

"Wow, you never cease to amaze me with what you get up to James. I know you will produce a great book because you are a pro and I can't wait to read it. You have more passion about skiing than pretty much anyone I know and that will come through in the pages I do not doubt. So tell me about the gossip that you can't print......"

With that we talked about old times, lamented the appreciation of the written word, the errors in grammar that are all too prevalent in much current writing and had a glass of wine. Or three.

His comments reminded me of another friend who wrote a best-selling novel set in the ski world but ended up drinking far too much in the process.

"I just couldn't write unless it was late at night and I had a bottle of whiskey open. The more I drank then the faster it flowed. The booze just sort of helped it come out," he told me.

This is probably not the best place to name him or another friend who writes for a national daily paper.  He is one of the most respected ski journalists writing today, whose phrases and observations I would pay to be able to come up with, but he has needed several stints in The Priory.

My meeting with Arnie was several weeks ago now and I am holed up in a secluded retreat churning out the words.

I am a stickler for starting on time each morning. I don't write at night.

Rather than the so-called writers block I have writer's dioreah. I can't stop the words coming out

But, have I followed his advice?

Let's just say I have taken it on board and Arnie is, as always, spot on. 

25,000 words done in under a week.

Hic!

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