Well, I’m hip deep in the big rewrite of ‘iNation and The Tears of a Billion Children’. First third now complete and I’m battling the urge to run for the hills. The writing will continue though and no matter what I will prevail.
Only those who write can know the loneliness of the art. No-one can help, no one can advise, no one can make a difference. It’s you and the book. But onwards we go, firing up the computer each day hoping that the plot will resolve itself, the characters will at least go along with our ideas and the text will at least be readable.
We keep writing because to stop would be unthinkable. We would be reduced to people who have tried and failed. We would stand in the shadows and watch those with more grit and perseverance take the glittering prizes that we know in our hearts could have been ours. We would eavesdrop and hear people whisper ‘he tried to be a writer once, you know’.
So each day we pick ourselves up and hurl ourselves once more into the breach in an act of self-defiance. We rage against the gods of literature to create something that is bigger than ourselves. To be a writer above all else. To be published. To be able to stand and say ‘I am a writer’.
So, my fellow writers…SHOULDN’T YOU BE WRITING?