Let's get real about being a writer

Today, Thursday 23 March, is the e-book publication date for my début novel, HER (the paperback will follow in November). In the run up to it, I’ve received countless messages from friends and family telling me how excited they are to read it. "You must be so proud," they say, "because this is a huge deal. What are we doing to celebrate?" They ask. And my response?

Nothing. No excitement. No anxiety. No pride. No fear.

If you know me, or even if we’ve only just met, it’ll strike you how unusual this is. Emotions are my forte, my raison d’etre. I’m animated like a Disney character, always full steam ahead like a wind-up toy. So, what has changed? Why do I have more enthusiasm for going to the rubbish tip this weekend than I do for publication day?

Well, it all boils down to two words: expectation and reality. Being a published author is a pipe dream that so many people yearn for. Unattainable to most, impossible to many. A goal that some will spend decades striving towards and still not achieve. This concept of extraordinaryness, of rarity, builds the highest of expectations. It promises something life changing. It puts the career on a pedestal that it simply cannot live up to.

Now don’t get me wrong, I was more realistic than most about my prospects as an author. HER is the first book I have ever written, or even attempted. It was a lockdown project, written in a frenzied three months as a way of coping, of staying sane in a world that was in turmoil. So, my expectations could not be any lower. I never anticipated finishing it, let alone securing a brilliant agent and top five publisher in a matter of months. Yet suddenly, I found myself high on cloud nine success… or apparent success. As a British Indian from a humble background, with no writing credentials or contacts to speak of, I had somehow done it. The seemingly impossible.

I still love writing, but I’d be lying if I said the last two years hasn’t stifled my creativity and caused me to question my future in this industry

I was grateful. I still am grateful – knowing that getting published is as much (or even more) about good fortune and timing than it is about talent, knowing how hard agents and publishing teams work to make dreams a reality. But with increased expectation comes increased disappointment – from cloud nine to hurtling down to earth at full speed.

For 99% of published authors, the reality won’t be life changing, it won’t be extraordinary – financially or otherwise. The reality is this:

• 5am wake up calls to squeeze in an hour or two of writing/editing before the family wakes up.
• Working a 50+ hour week day job just so that you can pay your bills, and therefore afford to continue writing.
• Cancelling social plans.
• Sacrificing downtime in front of the television, time with the family, sleep.
• Taking annual leave just to meet your deadlines.
• Editing on trains, planes, at the hairdressers, on holiday.

All this to have a novel you have poured your whole heart and soul into, spent months close to burn out working on, being picked apart by complete strangers because they could not relate to the characters or did not understand the ending. All this to have zero control or impact on your sales, no matter how hard you work to promote your novel. All this to drive yourself insane trying to stay relevant, in the hope that this will be enough to grant you another deal, in the hope that your next idea might become the "hottest book of the year".

Your first book that you may have spent months, years or even decades on is unlikely to be life changing. Instead, the reality is year on year of churning out novel after novel to build your author brand, grow your loyal readership, refine your craft, and eventually (yet with no guarantee) reap the rewards of all your hard work.

So, when my friends and family ask me why I’m not excited about tomorrow, or proud of myself for achieving this milestone, I want to tell them this.

The truth is, I am exhausted.

The truth is that the last two years have drained me.

The truth is that this was not my dream.

Launch day is merely a formality for me. The culmination of two years of acquired knowledge about the industry, about the realities of this career. It’s not all doom and gloom. I’ve met so many incredible people, some of whom have become my closest friends. I’ve learned so much from my talented agent and editors, about the craft of writing, structuring a novel and how to turn a seed of an idea into a commercially viable pitch.

I still love storytelling. I still love writing, but I’d be lying if I said the last two years hasn’t stifled my creativity and caused me to question my future in this industry.

I don’t know what my future holds, but I wrote this article because I think we, the authors, the agents, the publishers and other key industry people have a responsibility to paint a more realistic picture of the profession.

Before I was published, all I saw were the big, splashy six-figure deals, the foreign translations, the film rights – all the glamour of being an author. We shouldn’t stop shouting about these incredible successes because they are inspirational to so many, but I truly believe that we must also be more open and honest about some of the struggles as well.