Beauty is the Creator of the Universe
On Starting Out - Ask Me Anything
Dear Readers,
Below is a small essay about starting out as a writer.
Please, if you have any questions for me, put them in the comment section and I’ll fashion a blog out of the answers for the weekend.
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As a kid, one of my favourite things was watching the pop stars I loved perform on television, and, one evening, slumped in the suburbs, it must have occurred to me that being paid to wear what you like and lark around forever was probably one the greatest pleasures on earth. A gas, gas, gas in fact. That’s where I must have conceived the idea of becoming a writer. And when I heard somewhere that an artist receives his or her best inspiration while relaxing, I felt I’d come home.
Naivety, then, along with a good dose of sheer ignorance, has served me very well in my so-called career. If I’d known how rare it was for a mixed-race, more-or-less uneducated, semi-delinquent and inordinately lazy kid from the suburbs to become a professional writer, I might have striven to do something useful with my life, like becoming a plumber or rent boy. As it was, I carried on blindly believing it was possible to make a living at telling stories, until one day it did become possible.
I am in no doubt that the most difficult period of any writer’s life is the beginning, where although you yourself may have faith and confidence in what you’re doing, it will become clear that no one else gives a damn, and its highly possible that they could laugh at your ambitions. There will be rejections and humiliations you believe you will never survive. It will be then that you will need friends and good readers to help you through, along with a large portion of bloody-mindedness. Success is never guaranteed, but neither is failure.
What any writing teacher looks for in her students, and the thing any reader craves and loves, is that instantly recognisable thing – the stamp of individuality. To write as oneself, in one’s own voice, and to never mind about pleasing others, is the only way forward, however much one is messed about with by the system.
Unfortunately the virtues which will make you successful are the ones that cannot be taught. They are oddly rare, even in people who are convinced they can make art. But these qualities can be encouraged.
Fearlessness; passion, eccentricity, sensuality, originality and the unity of voice and subject matter. Be bold with a disciplined madness, bringing new news to jaded people. Magic is hard work to make, but pleasure is an energy; creativity is its own party, and every day should bring a new experiment. If you have that, you should be on your way. Otherwise you might have to consider working for a living.
Dear Readers,
What is on your mind? Would you like to ask me something?
If so, please comment below and I will endeavour to answer as many of your questions as I can for this weekend’s post.
Hanif
Dear Hanif. Or Janice as the autocorrect wants to be. Apart from being a reader I was lucky enough to interview you and do public events on many occasions as a journalist. On stage and off, you were one of the most naturally amusing people I have met. A writer and I compared notes and recalled that, when we were going through bad times, nothing like yours. But you cheered us up with a very funny but affectionate comment about our predicament. There are lighter moments in your blogs still but i wonder to what extent you have been able to retain what seemed an essentially comedic approach to life through all of this? Best wishes and enhanced admiration. Mark Lawson
A pivotal moment in my life occurred when an article of news journalism, that I hastily assembled in ten minutes in order to meet a deadline, was, over the span of half an hour, savagely torn apart by my classmates, who were also learning the trade.
It was absolutely brutal. In the long term, it left more of a lasting impression on me than the physical and psychic wounds of fourteen-man beat-down that I received from a gang of miscreant youths while I was sleeping rough in London. A few days later, after my ego had recovered, I found that I was able to stand back from what I had written and regard it with a degree of objectivity. Any love that I had for the piece had been knocked out of me and I looked at it with a cold eye. A lot of the criticism was justified. The question that followed after was: 'Since I am not walking away from it, how do I address these issues? How do I fix the article so that it works?”
The good news is that, in 2023, there has never been more opportunity to get your writing out there and find your audience. The old gatekeepers still exist, but the walls around those rusting gates are falling to ruin. It no longer matters if a coterie of agents find you problematic. If the reception desk in the headquarters of one or more of the legacy publishers might as well be a stone boulder rolled across an entrance, then there is no longer any cause for despair. You can self-publish on Amazon or Ingram Spark, or on any number of other platforms, for a decent royalty, and sell physical or digital copies of your book all over the world. Loads of people are doing it and making bank. It might seem intimidating being your own publicist, but if you are a small writer signed to a large publisher, there will be pressure on you to do that anyway.
I wish I had learned to be less precious about writing earlier on in life. It is not this magical delicate thing, formed of gossamer and glitter. It is an absurd and confounding process, more like trying to find your way through a darkened room that is filled with wind chimes and sharp-cornered furniture.
November is National Novel Writing Month. All over the world people are aiming to write 50,000+ word novels over a span of 30 days. Some of these will be published. Well-known, dearly-loved songs have been written and demoed in half an hour. Why can't a decent book be hammered out in a month?
I am writing a psychedelic pirate novel, 2000 words at a time. I am really enjoying the creative momentum of it. By 1st December, I will have written just over 60,000 words, with perhaps another 10,000– 20,000 words still to get down. I will edit and typeset it, and then self-publish on Amazon at the end of January or in February. From a blank page to an actual book in around three months. It will probably sell around a couple of hundred copies. A smaller number will actually read it. People may say unkind things about it, or they may say nothing. It won't matter. I will already be deep into the next book.
The in-facing edge of that double-edge sword is the weight of competition, that is about to be swelled by a tsunami of AI-assisted books. It is a battle you will probably lose, but isn't it enough just to be in the fight? The era of the literary lunch is an anachronism. Your Edwardian romantic drama is locking horns in the online market place with a book where bare-breasted Amazonian women ride around the ruins of Chicago on the backs of triceratops. May the best novel win.