Mike Young recounts his journey from unemployable dentist to prize-winning author.

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My dental career came to an abrupt end, not because I had reached my chosen retirement date, but because in my late 40s I had been diagnosed with osteoarthritis in my hands and wrists. This is the story of how I went from being an unemployable dentist to being the author of a prize-winning book - from the day I closed my practice for the final time, right up to the present day some 20 years later. Although this is my journey and my experiences, I think that contained within are messages of optimism, hope, survival, and a determination to succeed.

First, though, some more context is needed. I am married to a bank manager; 20 years ago our eldest was at university and our youngest was still at high school. I had a modest mortgage and no other debt, thankfully. The sale of the practice went through; my insurance company, after a tussle, finally paid up.

I am not going to pretend that it was easy coming to terms with having to give up my dental career in this way. Initially I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life; my mum had suddenly died three months earlier, which added to the mental stress I was beginning to experience. My wife was still working. Sitting around at home all day, punctuated by the odd shopping trip, and the occasional visit to check on how my dad was doing, weren't going to be enough. I decided I had to find a new purpose.

Maintaining social contacts would soon become a priority, so I joined York Archaeology as a volunteer, which helped my mental state enormously. Alongside forging new personal relationships, I felt a strong need to maintain some sort of relationship with dentistry. The two non-dental skills I had acquired during my dental career were how to write and how to be an expert witness. These would later play a very important part in my rehabilitation.

I had been having articles about practice management published in the dental press for around ten years, and had therefore a large library of material. I had identified a gap in the market regarding books about dental practice management. I decided I would try to fill that gap. I had never written a book before, but adapting what I had learnt about management in general, I set about planning and organising, chapter by chapter, section by section, my manuscript. My book had to be comprehensive and wasn't going to be another regurgitation of generic management theory. Mine was going to be based on my own practice management experience, warts and all. I needed a title that was going to be eye-catching and different. A friend had lent me a book titled, The Genghis Khan guide to business, which inspired me to include ‘Genghis Khan' in my book's title.

It took six years to write what would become Managing a dental practice the Genghis Khan way. I found a publisher, signed a contract (which was scary because I now had strict deadlines), added a bit more material to my draft, edited and redrafted. Because I have an economical style of writing, the initial draft I submitted to the publisher wasn't that large, which led them to ask if I could write more for no other reason than the spine of the book had to be wide enough to accommodate the book's title. A year later the book came out in print. It was strange seeing my words, ideas and thoughts there in black and white in book form. All the hard work had been worth it.

The following year I received an email from the publisher saying that the book had been nominated for a prize. The prize turned out to be The Diagram Prize for the Oddest Title of the Year. Genghis swept the board with 66% of the votes. My book and name were all over the press the day the winner was announced. Within hours it became an international bestseller. I was interviewed and photographed, which all seemed unreal. Invitations to talk at dental meetings flowed in. Seven years after losing the label ‘Dentist' I now had a new label, that of ‘Author'. This was important to me, personally.

The story of Genghis Khan continues. Last year a Mongolian professor of dentistry contacted me via a third party, simply saying that he wanted to translate my book into Mongolian. This is currently happening, and Managing a dental practice the Genghis Khan way will soon be on sale in Mongolia.

Someone jokingly mentioned that you can't call yourself a serious author until you've had two books published. I took up the challenge. Utilising my experience and knowledge, and again, having identified a gap in the market, I earnestly set about writing a book to help dental experts. I quickly found a publisher, and within a year The effective and efficient clinical negligence expert witness was published. (It's amazing how having a track record opens doors in the publishing world.) My second book was also peppered with anecdotes of my real experiences, a device that helps connect the reader with the author, I think.

We are now in 2016, but in the preceding dozen or so years I was still being published in dental journals, law journals, an archaeology journal, given talks to dentists, lawyers, and an archaeology group. Up until last year I was still being published in dental and law journals.

History has always fascinated me, but for some inexplicable reason taking the subject at school at O level, wasn't an option. I was determined to rectify this gap in my education. I first gained a history A level, then a history degree in 2012. My degree covered ancient history, and included the works of Homer. My love of history, however, covers everything from Ancient to Modern. As it's over 20 years since I practised dentistry, I now tend to refer to myself as an historian and writer. I am now involved with my local history and archaeology group, which nicely dovetails with my experience working at York Archaeology.

Giving up clinical practice has given me the time to explore my creative side. I still write, but now in the form of a blog about my travels and my photography, a hobby I took up during COVID lockdowns. I am involved with my local photography club. I also enjoy painting and attend an art class with my wife, whom I have to say is a much better artist than I am. I have taken courses in creative writing, journalism, travel writing, and photography. Both of my books are now in their second editions and continue to sell across the globe.

I was involved with expert witness work for ten years before having to give up clinical practice, and once retired and no longer on the Dental Register, I had to cease giving expert opinion. However, my involvement with experts continued through my book and also through the training courses I co-presented with a former dentist-now-barrister. Using my writing skills, I have helped novice experts improve their report writing, and have mentored many more.

Last year I moved back to the town where I started my dental career over 40 years ago. A great deal has happened to me over that period, not least over the last 20 years. I now spend my time with my photography, taking and editing my images, writing blogs, watching, reading and listening, still trying to absorb new knowledge and learn new skills. I have embraced the digital age and am active on social media. Had I retired at age 60 I doubt I would have had the energy or the desire to write two books or to complete an arts degree.

After 20 plus years I have finally ended my active involvement with the dental profession. As I enter my eighth decade I look back on those years with a certain sense of achievement and satisfaction. I have reinvented myself, forged new pathways, and, I like to think, passed knowledge on to another generation. Those early days were tough, but as the nineteenth century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, ‘What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger'. Dentistry, like so many other professions, can take its toll on its people, but through careful financial management, an eye for opportunities, and an innate determination, I think I successfully navigated my way out of a career-ending situation into new careers that have been rewarding. This is not saying I am unique or special in any way, this is simply my story. I count myself fortunate and lucky, but in life, you make your own luck.