I’ve been helping a friend finish his novel. I’m very proud of him. It’s taken a number of years, he hasn’t been well, but he’s one of the few people who have been a student of mine in past creative writing classes who has actually stuck to it and completed a large manuscript. This takes guts and hard work, as writers know. Not only has he finished but he’s re-edited willingly. Yeah, I’m really chuffed. Now he wants to go through the arduous process of finding a publisher. For that, I feel for him. But I think what he has written will appeal to a particular audience so I’m backing him all the way.
People who write are smitten with something. It compels them to keep going, it makes them feel baaaaaad if they haven’t put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, for a while. Mostly these are people who have no expectation of publication, or know that what they do will never make them a living. Writing is an itch, a rash – you’ve just gotta scratch or you fade away into nothing.