Like a Moth (& Raynor) to a flame

The Salt Path, brass neck and the blame game. And a genuinely brilliant and moving alternative to the Salt Path which you should read instead.

Judging by the replies to my Instagram stories on Sunday night when I posted about The Observer’s excellent scoop on The Salt Path, which has sold over a million copies round the world, inspired a whole subgenre of books and walking tours, people are as fascinated by the story as I am. ‘I always thought there was something fishy about them’ was literally the reply of every third person. Me too. (We are all so wise aren’t we :) )

For those not in the know briefly: Raynor and Moth Winn lose their house to a bad person, Moth is diagnosed with a life limiting condition, they undertake to walk the south-west coastal path, camping and relying on the kindness of strangers along the way. Raynor writes a book, it sells bazillions of copies, everyone is happy. (Please note the Royal Society of Literature webpage about the Salt Path winning their Christopher Bland prize no longer exists. How quickly we erase!)

Only literally everything I’ve said above is not true or open to interpretation according to the Observer’s report. Their names are Sally and Tim Walker (I mean literally everyone in Bath looks like them and is called Sally and Tim Walker, I blame myself for not spotting this whole situation years ago). They didn’t lose their house to a bad person, instead it is claimed that Sally defrauded the company she was working for out of tens of thousands of pounds, and whilst they lost their house they also had an extra house in France, AS YOU DO.

The bit about the bookselling bazillions of copies is true, but not everyone is happy.

The Walkers / Winns have said everything in the book is true and denied the claims and are seeking legal advice. Their lawyers told The Bookseller: “Today’s Observer article is highly misleading. We are taking legal advice and won’t be making any further comment at this time. The Salt Path lays bare the physical and spiritual journey Moth and I shared, an experience that transformed us completely and altered the course of our lives. This is the true story of our journey.”

The Observer is sticking to its story.

I am fascinated by this story because it is the intersection of two things: why books and publishing is wonderful crossed with the sheer brass neck of some people.

Years ago in another life I worked with a fantasist. They made up increasingly dramatic stories about themselves and their family, inventing ever more implausible scenarios that meant they were constantly at the centre of their own drama and there was of course no way you asked for verification. They got extra attention and treatment as a result of this, and even when they did some pretty terrible things they were never ‘exposed’. I think they were ill. I think you have to be ill in some way (not in the way ‘Moth’ is ‘ill’) to lie like that. Good people were taken in by them. But I, with my spidey sense, was not. I knew, because I am a super suspicious person, that there was something really off with them. I threw away the outfit they sent my baby when she was born, I didn’t want her wearing it, I imagined the christening dress from Home and Away that gave Aisla and Alf’s baby a terrible allergic reaction (thank you, Home and Away, for that and so much more). I knew it was mad of me, my wildly anxious new mother status positioning me on the edge of a teetering chasm it seemed at times, but of course it wasn’t. But did I ever challenge this person’s behaviours? Did I ever call a meeting, email anyone? No I did not, because to do so would be to question the most horrendous events in someone’s life. I’d have been a monster.

This, and that, was much like when everyone loved certain people on twitter and I’d think: hang on, they seem like a crazy narcissist. In the era of having a Mayor of London and later Prime Minister who tossed out untruths like most people toss out hopefully compostable paper coffee cups egotistical retelling of personal narrative for one’s own gain has become normalised. The Guardian columnist who constantly tells you they tell it like it is and talks about conspiracies against them. The lawyer fighting for justice who is on social media talking about their own cases so much you wonder how they can be doing any actual work. The beauty expert who is a professional best friend and blithely confesses to having Botox whilst recommending without any irony face creams at only £100 a pop. None of these people have done anything wrong per se (this does not apply to Boris Johnson who should be in prison), it’s just I don’t care for them much less trust their opinions and desire not their input into my feed or life. And that is OK. But to say ‘I call bullshit’ leaves you open to accusations of risking your own reputation, and of not being KIND. Being KIND has enabled a lot of people to get away with a lot of things.

All this is because I am a fiction writer, a novelist, who deals in made-up stories, and in real life is a suspicious person, as I say, who likes to keep others at a distance, and that has cost me in life, freedom and experience. Novelists have a much easier time of it. In fact whilst they say you’re encouraged to play with form the whole point is to distil reality, to invent, to cover up: to keep real-life out of it. But it has also meant like any good catastrophist I see disaster coming down the line and am prepared for it. (I live in a 30s semi with a stream at the bottom of the garden, and only 80% is that because I genuinely have worried that at some point someone will poison our water systems. All my fellow catastrophists, you are welcome with your buckets when the End Times come.)

So I feel huge sympathy for Michael Joseph, Raynor Winn’s publishers, who published with love and care and with a stunning jacket a book that genuinely struck a chord with people. Publishing is a nice business which is why grifters and sociopaths get away with stuff. At what point in the acquisitions process do you say ‘hi we love your book, I know other publishers are bidding for it, but could you just produce a doctor’s letter proving you have this illness?’ They’d have lost the book and the agent would have called the boss and raked the editor over the coals for being so impudent. All the self-righteous people on social media saying ‘I want my money back’ (srsly? you want your money back because you read and enjoyed a book?) need to pipe down. The issue is more widespread than one person or company not doing due diligence. It’s a social problem, of which we are all guilty.

What is serious in the exposé about the Walker / Winns is the accusations of financial wrongdoing and the Magical Walking Can Cure a Terminal Illness messaging which if proven means they should face whatever opprobrium comes their way, and I do wish them well if this is not the case and Moth / Tim really does have this awful condition. As ever with people who create huge drama they move on and those with shitty lives felled by misfortune or illness don’t get to do that. I think we should all donate to PSPA, the charity that works with those living with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy and Corticobasal Degeneration. They have just cut ties with the Winns and presumably their funding will suffer as a result going forward. People with degenerative illnesses don’t tend to have high profiles, due to the nature of their disease. I have donated already - or have I? Maybe I’m making it up. (But do you know what else I did? I checked the Charity Commission’s .gov.uk site to make sure it was a legit charity before I donated and that its financials were in good order. As I say, I’m a suspicious person.)

I do wonder if in general as a culture in the UK we should do more to normalise fact checks. In the US media ecosystem, both publishing and news, there is a level of factchecking which my mother, who was for many years Danielle Steele and Sophie Kinsella’s editors, was exposed to if she ever gave an interview to eg the New York Times about those two amazing women’s works: someone would ring her up to check the most basic details of her life and things she’d said. The ex-editor in me loves this level of detail.

We do not do that here. Maybe it should be more baked into our publishing systems, but if so it should also be baked into our national life. The replies to my post on Sunday were illuminating from those who’d had contact with Raynor and Moth Winn or knew stories about them, to say the least. Like the Post Office, like the child grooming scandals, like any 'I’ve been saying this for years’ exposure, we love raking over the coals and reprimanding those specific persons who were there. I think our institutions and leaders, whoever they are, should instead be taking a look at how we might do it differently so it - whatever it is - doesn’t happen again.

I have not read the Salt Path, I always found them both a little too winsome but it seemed unkind at the time to say so. I wonder if people have, and what they thought of it, and whether it deserves to stand as a good book even with its inherent problems?So finally: If you want something beautifully written about landscape and family tragedy may I instead recommend Stone Lands, by Fiona Robertson, an incredible book about standing stones, the British Isles, and the author’s loss of her beloved husband. It is an absolute privilege to read. (And in this case I wish it wasn’t so, but it is true).

Harrie x