Blurb:
You're working longer hours, doing mundane and unfulfilling work - just to live within your means and pay your ever-increasing bills, taxes and debts? It feels like life is passing you by. You're getting older day by day and you sometimes find yourself thinking, what is the point? Is this really what life is about? The Winners' Guide is an avant-garde, inspirational true story of how an unhappy, uneducated young man finds himself stuck in a job he hates, working tirelessly just to make ends meet. Through an unfortunate chain of events and stroke of luck, he is gifted with knowledge that completely changes his life for the better, sending him on a breathtaking journey full of exciting twists and turns, romantic encounters, and incredible highs and lows. A roller coaster journey that would help him discover true love, success and happiness in the process.
Read an excerpt:
They say it’s all about timing.
One month later, Nice suddenly became a different town. I’d met some wonderful people, but they’d gone their own separate ways. I don’t care what anybody says, it’s not the place – it’s the people. I began to wonder if it was where I was supposed to be and the answer seemed simple: I’d go somewhere different and repeat the process.
I boarded my flight, feeling mildly disappointed to be leaving. In love with the French Riviera; the peaceful atmosphere stimulated my creative process, which in turn developed my ability to find happiness in the simple things: good coffee, luxurious farmers’ markets and the sound of classical music being effortlessly played by the talented busker in the square. The divine contentment I felt haunted me in such a way that any slight change in energetic frequency of my surroundings would leave me feeling discontented. But I’d made my decision to leave and was determined to see it through.
Arriving in Barcelona mid-afternoon, I left the cool, air-conditioned terminal building to be greeted by a humid heat, a stark contrast to the warm but breezy environment I’d grown accustomed to. Not much thought had been invested into my decision to move to Spain; I’d done it on a whim having spent numerous summer holidays there when I was younger. I was fond of culture and assumed it would all be much the same: laid back, relaxed, good food and Sangria. Little did I know it’d be like a busy day in Central London during a persistent heatwave.
The warm, muggy air made my clothes stick to my skin as I lugged heavy baggage onto the metro system, causing concern about the decision to leave tranquillity for this bustling sauna to linger in my mind. Perhaps I just needed to give it time, I thought, spending the next few days seeing the city, determined to give the place a chance. There was something misaligned, a subtle anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Had I been looking for a high-paced environment it would have been perfect but I needed somewhere more relaxed, somewhere I could be creative and focussed.
Deciding Barcelona wasn’t home, I searched the web for the cheapest flight available and Amsterdam came up first. Surely it would be more chilled out, I thought. Blissfully unaware of the mayhem that awaited, I booked the flight, and suddenly found myself on the plane just as the thrust kicked in.
‘Fuck, it’s going to be cold there.’ I thought, as the realisation that Amsterdam was geographically parallel to London sank in. Must soldier on, too late to go back now. Before I knew it, I was checking into a hostel as two exceptionally stoned chaps stared at my luminous pink t-shirt and Hawaii style short shorts like I was a fish out of water.
I was, but I’d waste no time in exploring the city, finding my way to Burger King for a Whopper with cheese and regular Coke (I asked for Diet) served by someone so high that health and safety would’ve shut the place down, before continuing onto the nearest Internet ‘café’, where I spent at least twenty minutes hopelessly flicking through the same browser tabs.
Barely able to string a functioning sentence together, I floated my way back to the hostel and climbed into bed and slept like a baby, waking up refreshed and ready to conquer the world. I’d spend the following days half-heartedly looking for an apartment only to realise I lacked the self-discipline required to avoid the seduction of the endless temptations lining the streets. Money was dwindling; gallivanting around Europe was costly, and considering my position I asked myself,
“Where am I was supposed to be?”
Giving up on my journey would have meant giving up on myself – it wasn’t an option. The inevitable impending financial collapse meant I might never have another chance to do this again. However, I recognised that these experiences were all just constant reminders of just how content I was in Nice. Why did I leave? Why did I fear not being able to meet new people, when I’d done it so easily before?
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About the author:
K.A. Hill (born July 22, 1988) is a down-to-earth, yet eternally positive, eccentric, daring and lovable Scottish author, entrepreneur and speaker, who has made it his personal life mission to inspire millions of people to escape the rat race, find their purpose and live their dreams.
