A Little Carp

I am currently reading: Elizabeth Costello, J. M. Coetzee, Vintage, 2004, ISBN 0 099 461927








I keep up to date with a number of blogs via my RSS reader, many of who are fellow writers struggling, as I do, with their work.

Writing is a lonely job, as J.M. Coetzee so beautifully illustrates in the book I am currently reading, Elizabeth Costello, so it is heartening to read of others' highs and lows. In those frequent moments when you lose confidence in your ability, it is comforting to know it is only part of the process; that you are not alone; that other writers experience the same.

Of course, the greatest joy is to read of another's ultimate triumph, which is to get his or her novel published. It is the carrot that keeps one going. I take genuine pleasure in some one else's success.

There is a however, however. My carp, and it is a very small one swimming around in a tiny fish bowl, is that once a person is published, their blog becomes less about writing, which is what I am interested in, and more about the whirl of reviews, readings, and other machinations of the marketing process.

I do understand the excitement, especially if it is one's first novel to be published. After the solipsistic exercise of writing, to discover that other people want to hear what you have created must be thrilling.

However, as I said, it is the journey that most interests me.

Having released my little carp into the wild, I am sure it will come back to bite me in the nether regions should I ever get published. I must beware that I don't get too carried away should that excitement ever come to pass.