On Being a Writer in Wales: Ant Evans

Ant Evans

Am I a writer? I’ve deliberately avoided using the label throughout the process of writing my autobiography, Llyfr Agored (An Open Book).

But then, since first setting eyes on the front cover and publication date on social media, I’ve accepted that perhaps I can’t avoid the label. Imposter Syndrome be damned, I’m a writer!

But, how did I get here?

At the risk of stating the obvious, to write, a love of reading and the ability to write is a must. And the person responsible for my ability to read and write, and my love of reading in particular, was my late mother. Some of my earliest memories are of Mum teaching me to read and write. In stark contrast to Llyfr Agored, a Welsh language volume, Mum, a native Welsh speaker, taught me to speak, read and write in English only.

Why’s that then? Because yours truly had been diagnosed with Hydrocephalus (aka water on the brain, a build up of cerebral spinal fluid, which can be fatal if left untreated) leading to major brain surgery at the age of five weeks to put a shunt in place to keep CSF levels under control. Following my surgery, Mum had a conversation with a “specialist” who told her the following:

“Your son will likely be a wheelchair-bound vegetable, unable to move, speak or do anything for himself. It is highly unlikely that he will learn one language, let alone two. So, it would be in Anthony’s best interests if you spoke to him in English.”

As an aside, this trilingual English, Welsh and French speaker loves proving people wrong! But the above statement meant that, aside from the very occasional exception, the language of my relationship with Mum, sadly, was English.

I’d like to think that, were she still alive, we’d have long made the switch to Welsh by now. Perhaps my eventually meeting a very good interpreter friend of hers in October 2017 would have been the catalyst?

I certainly think it would have been more than a little awkward speaking Welsh to “the nicest, kindest man in the whole world” (Mum’s words, not mine, though I am in complete agreement with her) and then speaking to Mum in English!

Predictably then, the vast majority of reading material I was exposed to growing up was in English. However, living in Gwynedd and being educated through the medium of Welsh, I soon became bilingual.

Tân ar y Comin

I remember the first Welsh language book I was gifted as a child being Tân ar y Comin by T. Llew Jones. Considering how thumbed through it looks, I clearly read it a lot. The novelty of reading a Welsh language book was obviously a big deal for me.

By the same token, being gifted an illustrated French dictionary by Mum (can you tell just how keen she was to prove that specialist wrong?) whilst I was still in primary school sparked a lasting interest in the French language.

As much as I love reading, browsing bookshops and discussing books with Mum was always a delight, writing is something I’d never considered. Certainly not my autobiography! I’m of the (perhaps naïve) view that to write your autobiography and do it justice, you need more self belief and to be more comfortable in your own skin than I am.

Though I will admit to being more confident than I once was, I’m far from being my biggest fan. I received quite a lot of encouragement to start writing though. I remember very clearly the conversation I had with Jon Gower in The Four Alls in Caernarfon in March 2023. Our discussion (translated by yours truly) went something like this:

Jon: Isn’t it about time you started considering writing something?
Me: I read and I review books. I’m not a writer.
Jon: People who read can write.
Me: I’m clearly not going to win this argument. Just don’t ask me to write my autobiography.

Funnily enough, my inability to say “no” is something I address in Llyfr Agored.

I do remember in the first year of my secondary education receiving praise for a piece of English creative writing. In particular, the use of “unusual” names for the characters (aside from Beatrix, I can’t remember any of the others). I remember this mainly because praise wasn’t something I was accustomed to receiving going through school. To contrast with the praise from my English teacher, my Welsh teacher that year dismissed my Welsh as being “crap”. Yes, that’s the word that was used. There’s a good Welsh language adjective for you!

Sarcastic

Why then, if that view of my Welsh has stuck with me years later, do I continue to speak it? Why did I write my autobiography in Welsh? I continue to speak Welsh because I feel more myself speaking it. Despite English being my first language, I am aware that I’m more reserved and sarcastic speaking English than I am speaking Welsh (though I’m sarcastic in each of my languages).

As much as it takes time for me to come out of my shell with people generally, I gain confidence around people when I’m speaking Welsh quicker than I do speaking English or French. I speak Welsh because I have Welsh speaking family and friends who I think the world of. I continue to speak Welsh because it’s the last link I feel I have with Mum since her death. I speak Welsh because I’m a stubborn so and so. And I speak Welsh because living in Caernarfon and speaking English would be weird!

As for writing my autobiography in Welsh; Mum, Wales and the Welsh language are pretty central to Llyfr Agored, and as both my older, English speaking, brother and “the nicest, kindest man in the whole world” have pointed out to me, it wouldn’t work in English. I’ve certainly tried to see how I can make the “Swansea” chapter in particular work in English and haven’t gotten anywhere!

But mostly, I speak and write in Welsh and will continue to do so, because it’s my language. I won’t have anybody tell me otherwise.

Llyfr Agored by Ant Evans is published by Y Lolfa and is available from all good bookshops from the 30th of March 2026