The Moon and the Stars Too

by Abir 

Do you ever lose hope of success, critical or financial? Do you ever feel a twinge of envy or jealousy for what other writers have achieved. Let’s be brutally honest.

 

 

Quite a question this week.

 

The first thing to say is that I was fascinated to read the responses from my colleagues. One of the benefits of being in the Friday slot is that I get to read the wisdom of Brenda, Terry, Dietrich and Jim before having to formulate my own shallow thoughts (yes, I generally write this column at the very last minute…sometimes a few minutes later). 

 

I often find myself inspired or enlightened by their answers. This week it’s no surprise to me just how honest they are, but also how high minded and generous they are. I’m particularly taken by Jim’s distinction between envy and jealousy, a distinction I hadn’t quite realised myself, but one which I will now gladly take to heart, use in the future and pass off as my own wisdom.

 

In terms of my answer, I think of myself as one of the lucky ones. I won a competition and secured a publishing contract with a large publisher. My first book received a lot of press attention, possibly because when I was first published, there were hardly any British Asians writing crime fiction and my book stood out. It was a question of right time, right place. That initial goodwill led to readers seeking out the book (it was both a critical and commercial success, has now been translated into 15 languages and has won a number of UK and international awards). It was one of the key building blocks of my career. Seven years on, I’m lucky enough to be able to make a full time living from writing (at least for now, because success in this business can be fleeting or at least transient) and I feel I’m growing as a writer, branching out into new areas.

 

But there are, and always will be, writers with more talent, with more success, with better prose, with better ideas than me. The great thing, I’ve found, about the world of crime fiction is that almost everyone (I’m talking 99% of writers) are the most wonderful people who will go out of their way to help you. I think that’s partly due to the sort of people who write crime fiction (generally good, messed up people wanting to atone for the bodies buried under their patios) and partly to the nature of the industry. There is a realisation that it’s not a zero sum game. A book sale for someone else doesn’t mean the lack of a book sale for you. On the contrary, every time a crime fiction book is sold, especially to a new reader, there’s a chance it’ll whet their appetite for more. A rising tide, they say, lifts all boats.

 

And it works in practice too. I’ve got a new novel out next year – my first standalone thriller – and I’ve been pretty nervous about it. So much so, that I wrote to a few other writers – among the best in the business (seriously - the best of the best - the biggest selling authors on the planet) and asked if they might take a look at a draft for me and give me their advice. Pretty much all of them came back saying ‘of course’ and the feedback I’ve received has been invaluable. These are writers who don’t need to give me the time of day, but they’ve gone out of their way, not only to read the draft, but also to tell me what they think and how it might be improved. Some of the greatest crime fiction writers in the world are taking time to help me. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it. But that’s the nature of the industry. People help each other. Given that, it’s pretty hard to be envious, let alone jealous of others’ success.

 

And yet…

 

Right now, my career seems to be on the right trajectory – I’m hopeful that my next book will be better than the last one and so on, but at the back of my mind, there’s always that question – what if it all goes wrong? I’m scared of becoming disillusioned and bitter. Because this is a fickle industry. Dazzling careers can fade and fizzle in what seems like no time. Writers hailed as the next big thing, lauded with praise and garlanded with fat book deals can be forgotten two years later. What if that happens to me? I can’t say how I’ll feel towards others still moving upwards. I hope, if it happens, that I’ll be happy for their success, but I can’t be sure about that. In fact, I think there’s a whole other piece to be written on depression and mental health and what happens to so many writers after the initial buzz and glitz  of a debut wears off. The publishing industry can be a flighty place. One minute, you’re the star attraction, the next, the circus has moved on and you’re left alone, nursing memories and wondering how you’re going to pay your bills. But that’s a post for another day…

 

Before you start thinking I’m some sort of saint, I should point out that there are times when I do get envious. I’m not Mother Teresa (despite a passing similarity in terms of looks and build).There are times when I do get those little pangs of envy – when the green eyed monster raises its head. (Why did Shakespeare give his monster green eyes? I’m sure Jim Ziskin will know the answer. He knows everything.) For me, it tends to be at awards ceremonies. I tell you, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve  been shortlisted for an ward, turned up at an award ceremony, sat there, fingers crossed hoping that it’ll be my name called out, only for someone else to win that coveted piece of plastic or metal. And then I’ll smile and I’ll clap and I’ll feel like crap inside, because I really wanted to win. The worst of it is, I know how ridiculous it is. Most awards mean very little in terms of sales. The rational half of my brain says, ‘what the hell are you so upset about? – It’s a piece of metal and plastic and you’ve won a few yourself,’ but I still feel rubbish because I wanted that particular piece of metal and plastic – it’s suddenly become the most important thing in the world to me. I wanted that little ego hit. I wanted to go on stage and say humble things so that people would know how lovely I was and now I’ve been robbed of that chance! It’s stupid and I feel stupid for writing this, but the question asked for total honesty and that’s what I’m giving you.

 

So there you go. It’s a great business, one of the best in the world in my opinion. There’s little cause for jealousy or envy, and I don’t think there is much – how can you be jealous of people who go out of their way to help you and to make you feel welcome? But get between me and an award, and all bets are off.