Following on from my post about the dream of owning a writer’s shack I found myself thinking more about the differences between my dreams of being a writer and the reality.
If you read the About Me page, you will see that Sylvia Plath was a great inspiration. She was even more nuts than me, she was able to write about it and sell her work. I wanted to be her. As it turned out the reality of being a published author is completely different to my dream. It is much better.
Some things I didn’t know when I wanted to be a writer in the eighties
- You don’t have to be dead to be famous.
- Most writers aren’t famous.
- Most writers don’t want to be recognisably famous as they sometimes do the school run in their pyjamas.
- Writing strictly autobiographical stories about your rubbish love life is totally cringeworthy.
- Writer’s butt is worse than writer’s block. It sticks out behind you and makes your skirt shorter at the back than the front.
- Some friends will beg to be in your books.
- Some friends will stop being your friend, in case you put them in your book.
- Some friends will unfriend you when you do put them in your book.
Being a writer isn’t all writing sheds and roses. It is so much better than that.
Feel free to comment on what you have learnt on your writer’s journey.
So … who unfriended you for putting them in your book?
No one you know. Someone took exception to the fact that I had named a character the same name as their child. When I explained that the character was actually dead … she didn’t speak to me for two years.