I’ve been musing on the subject of writing for a while, as you know if you’ve been reading these musings. And after reading a post on Charlie Stross’s blog yesterday I don’t know whether to be depressed or just shoot myself.
Okay, I’m not going to shoot myself, that’s just the drama queen talking again – he’s been banished back to his closet, so I’ll carry on.
Charlie talks about wanting to be a writer since he was seven and I know just what he’s talking about. Once I’d mastered this reading lark I, too, wanted to write the kind of stories that gripped me; it’s a feeling that’s never really gone away.
Frankly, it took a lot longer to get things moving than I anticipated, life doing its level best to get in the way. I ended up doing that thing Douglas Coupland talks about in Generation X, getting a ‘McJob’ and then sucked into the world of mortgages, bills and holidays in France – not that I’m complaining, life’s been good.
Age is, of course, an issue. Monsieur Stross also makes the point that most working writers are somewhere between 34-70, which is hardly surprising as life experience plays a big part in being able to write convincingly about most anything. I know, we all knew it all when we were teenagers. What I know now is how little I really know about anything!
But, of all the things I’ve done, the one thing I’ve done the most is write. I make a living at writing – okay it’s pub reviews, online news items and the odd book, but it’s still writing. I’m sure if I managed to find old notebooks I could resurrect some awful poetry or early drafts of some of my stories at the very least.
I guess what’s bothering me is that I don’t intend to write pub reviews forever – they can get a bit samey after a while – and I don’t know how I’m going to live on the writing. Oh, I have ideas and everyone who’s bought my book has helped push me towards it, of course. I guess it’s the details escaping me at the moment.
Doubt is a pain the ass – I know I can do it on so many levels and I know lots of other people do it, too. God is in the details, as they say, and I’m sure the details will sort themselves out accordingly. After all, “tomorrow’s another day”.