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What would my mum think?

I thought it might be amusing to compile a list of the excuses I have used in the past to convince myself I couldn’t make it in the writing game. Some of these are old recurring themes, others have popped up more recently.

Here we go …..

  • I haven’t been to university
  • I’m too old
  • I have tattoos
  • I don’t have the talent
  • I don’t have an agent
  • My grammar is questionable
  • I’ve only written two novels
  • What’s the point?
  • I’ll never be noticed on the slush pile
  • I don’t have the personality
  • My language is appalling
  • My mum might be offended by my work
  • I don’t live in London
  • My characters are too coarse
  • I used to be a bricklayer
  • I have a physical disability
  • You can’t write non-fiction and be a novelist
  • People will laugh at me
  • I might be successful
  • Rejection will break me
  • I’ll run out of ideas
  • The novel is dead
  • Screenplays are easier
  • I’m not committed enough
  • I’ve been arrested
  • I don’t know Martin Amis
  • I don’t have enough followers on Twitter
  • People might find out what I’m really like
  • There are too many novelists out there already
  • My genius won’t be recognised
  • My genius will be recognised
  • No-one appreciates what I’m trying to do
  • Television is the new literature
  • I might get an ulcer

This is by no means a definitive list, but will give you some insight into the precarious workings of my over-sensitive mind. I hope this may inspire some of you timorous pen-pushers out there who’ve suffered a similar crisis of faith, to overcome your insecurities and keep at it regardless. After all, failure is only really a matter of perspective.

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