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I’m really happy to announce that my latest book, Children of the Tsunami: A road trip through post-disaster Japan in words and sketches, is written, laid out, edited, and sitting on the virtual shelves right now. It’s a bit of an odd one. It’s not exactly a travelogue, not exactly an essay, not exactly journalism, not exactly art, but is exactly what I found last March talking to people in the tsunami-hit towns of Northern Japan.

And that is survivors who are just trying to get on with their lives. Some have been helped, some offer help and others just get by. But there are amazing kids and older folks in these pages whose voices are rarely heard. Children of the Tsunami is my attempt to amplify those voices and add my own to the question of what is to be done for people who lost everything in the 2011 disaster.

It was also a chance for me to stretch my writing muscles and develop some new ones with a paint brush. I’m happy with the results, I hope you are too. It weighs in at 7,500 words, featuring 18 original watercolour sketches on 38 oversize pages. All pictures are included in the ebook too.

I’ve set the price at 99 cents or thereabouts for the ebook and $6.99 for the paperback as an introductory offer.

The blurb on Amazon is: Armed with a watercolour sketchbook and a notepad, Patrick Sherriff spoke to survivors of the tsunami, met teenagers orphaned by the disaster and people still living in temporary homes four years since the earthquake to paint a portrait of what life is like now for those who lived through Japan’s worst catastrophe for a generation.

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Available at Amazon.comAmazon.co.jpAmazon.co.uk and the paperback edition at CreateSpace.

As always, I’d love to hear what you think of the book and would really appreciate you leaving a review on Amazon. And if you like it, you might want to sign up for mynewsletter to get first notice of any new writing, as well as a free humorous short story I’m working on called I’m not a foreigner. I’m hoping to finish it tomorrow during my primary  school daughter’s eight-hour undokai sports festival. It’s an annual event grossly lacking in humour. But that’s another story.