This is about me,
not the book.

This is about me, not the book I’ve written. My life isn’t just about the wins. It’s the failures that moulded me. The small successes. A glimmer of hope. Gentle words of encouragement at the right time that strengthen the mind.

Hi. I’m Christian Hart Jones. First-time author. I have not travelled the typical path.

I joined the Royal Marines as a naive 18-year-old. Injury cut it short. Unperturbed, I joined the Territorial Army as an engineer. Less stress on the knees.

Then I decided to fail college, so I signed on for an HND in Computer Science. I’d programmed since I was a boy. Underestimated how rebellious I was. I quit. Started a business. Failed.

Not daunted by failure or ridicule, I worked for other people. That proved just as unfruitful. Like a nomad I travelled the world. England.

If you’re Welsh, this should be relatable. We rarely venture far from home. Not strong enough to resist the pull, I returned. Still naive. Just more weathered.

Relationships and work passed me by. A one-man wrecking ball, some would say. Self-doubt was never the concern. My mantra: it’s not confidence I lack but ability.

Single, unfulfilled, I put a speculative post on a dating app. Computers, heartache, pain — ready for whatever bots and scammers it threw at me. Divine intervention or blind luck, I found a real person. A hastily agreed date on the river. Kayaking. I transformed. A child arrived not long after. The focus I lacked grew with my love for him.

With the quiet confidence and mild encouragement of my wife I studied law, psychology. A book in the making, even. I was growing. I felt whole.

ADHD, later. A name for the mess. Useful. Not the plot.

I live in Wales.