Sorry to disappoint you Tatjana, I have never written a book, but I grew up in Wales when Welsh- and Englsh-speakers alike were exposed to the Mabiniogian (sp?), taught Welsh folk songs and folk tales, and on St. David’s Day always took part in some kind of eisteddfod.
My earliest teachers were amazing story-tellers, in fact prior to TV we were all story-tellers: my granddad spinning yarns by the light of the coal fire, my dad doing the same. Nowadays, in my voluntary work I spend time with young children and with folk In hospitals, and love listening to their stories, or sharing ones that are a variation on ones I have heard. What fun!
As for writing them down, maybe that comes next, but for now, I am enjoying recovering the memory of those magical times when stories were told around the glow of the firelight. Somtimes I feel like a fossil from another age, but although the format and media of transmitting these tales are different, maybe there will be a renaissance in good old storytelling.
My dream is to be able to sit in the gentle glow of firelight (or computer screen ) and share tales with one another. In a romantic way learning Welsh is like stepping into that dream, so with every new word, or verb, or phrase I take another step closer to that dream.
My impression is that many people of every nation, tribe or culture also hold onto that dream–one in which the experiences in every life (whether funny, sad, mundane or illuminating) are treasured. Having worked in some of the most remote places on earth and even spent times trapped underground in mining or in buildings being ripped apart by the earth moving, my impression is that stories keep people going, hoping, learning, and wanting to live.
With its glorious history, mystery and renewal of the bardic traditions Welsh is like a pathway into the very soul of people because it is treasured and is enjoying new life–or so it seems, thanks to SSiW and no doubt other initiatives. So onwards Tatjana and fellow companions on this road