It’s hard being a writer. For a start, in most fields of human endeavour, the competition comes from other people doing the same thing, other painters, singers, footballers, politicians, what have you. Very few people, having become successful and well known in another field, then suddenly have an exhibition of landscapes, or play for Arsenal, or even stand for parliament – a few, perhaps, but not many. But it seems to me that every single person who becomes well-known for anything at all – acting, athletics, armed robbery, reality TV, whatever – immediately writes a novel. And has it published, since they are famous. And if it’s moderately readable, and they have fans, it sells, and they write another. And if the poor bloody writer does manage to get a book published and it sells, no-one invites them to record an album, or play Hamlet, or run the country. They’re just expected to write another book, and it’s got to sell better than the first one.
It’s a hard life, I tell you.
OK, so when (if) I write that Sci-Fi, trilogy that’s been wandering around in my mind for years, I will enter parliament as the first SNP MP for South Devon, and call a publisher as soon as I’ve made my Maiden Speech, or shall I just rob the local branch of Santander, claiming to be a reincarnation of Sir Francis Drake?
the problem with a. is that you might not get in, the problem with b. is the possibility of finding yourself in jail or the bin. Keep trying. How about reality TV?
Sorry, that was a reply to Rychard
Too bloody right. Everyone thinks they’ve got a book in them. I blame the English teachers. Too much creative writing in schools. Just teach them grammar and literature like mine did, and I mean proper grammar and proper literature, none of your ‘fronted adverbials’ (WTF are they?) or extracts from Shakespeare.
🙂