I have been contemplating what it means to live a creative life and how we measure its worth. For so long I treated my writing like a hobby. It was the poor relation to the rest of life which was afforded time, patience and commitment. It wasn’t until I began considering writing time as something precious and worth protecting, did I begin to see the rewards.
I once read about a woman lamenting the fact that having children had prevented her from forging a stellar career. The person she was moaning to, pulled her up sharp, looked at the tiny baby on her lap and said, that child doesn’t stop you doing anything, but your husband might. Don't @ me about men getting a bad rap. Women still do the heavy lifting of child care and domestic work. But we put obstacles in our way for all sorts of reasons, mainly though, it comes down to fear. The fear of failing can be paralysing; a self-perpetuating myth that comes full circle: in not doing the thing we aspire to do, we stop it from actualising.
Then there’s the gradient of success. It isn’t enough to publish books, to have actual live readers, as opposed to the imaginary one I like to think of, who is curled up with my book in the nook of a sofa, in a warm fire-glowing room, perhaps with a cat nearby and a cup of tea on hand.
No, we flagellate ourselves that we aren’t on ‘lists’ – best of 2020 lists, books you must read before (insert whatever end destination suits), bestselling lists. I think at this rate being on a hit-list would be a thrill.
As I enter 2021 it is with some trepidation for this is the year my next crime novel will be released. In six weeks exactly Who took Eden Mulligan? will make its way out into the world. It’s my fourth published novel, and my first with Avon. So, before I begin the process of feeling not good enough (it goes with the territory) I want to remind myself that last January I’d have been thrilled to know the book I was working on, would find a home with Avon Harper Collins.
Success seems to be a moving goal post for most writers. It’s the carrot we dangle in front of ourselves to keep us pushing on ahead, to keep us in the game. But really, success is in writing the first sentence, finishing the next chapter, writing the damn book.
Everything else is just glitter.