Imagine: You’ve been writing for nearly 15 years. You’ve had four books published. Those books have been translated into languages you didn’t know existed. Like The Hoff, you are big in Germany. The Observer says that your writing is part of the zeitgeist. (No, you’re not sure what that means either) You are photographed for features in the Sun and The Express. The Express even tog you up in a diana-esque black velvet ballgown. You aren’t making a living from your writing – but hey who is? – still, you get regular cheeky royalty checks. Things are ticking along nicely.
And then along comes the upstart, the pretender, the fifty blows to the solar plexus and nothing is ever going to be the same again.
People on Facebook post about “Curling up with Mr Grey” and that gets twenty likes! They are reading it on the beaches, the streets, the hills, the soft play centres. (You get the picture.) They are reading it with their kids, their Aunt Maisy, their bank managers. And, not only are they reading it, they are talking about it, they are, it seems, wetting themselves over it. Uh huh.
“Are you pissed off?” ask your friends.
“No, no, no. I’m just astounded!” You say. “I never, ever imagined they would be selling filth in Tescos (Not that kind of filth anyway) “I’m impressed. I’m proud. I’m intrigued.”
You are seriously pissed off.
Every second*, a million copies of Fifty Shades of Grey are spawned yet no matter how many times you refresh Amazon it tells you the same bad news over and over again. You are 200000 on the bestseller list. 199,999 books are more popular than yours. You hate people. You hate books. Most of all you hate the people who buy books.
You need to get over it. You used to be so happy. Now you just want to jump around going, “Why not me? Me!” Was it simply that Tabitha Flyte writes shite? Maybe. Was it timing? Did Tabitha Flyte prematurely ejaculate her books on a world that wasn’t ready? Was it the lack of a stalker/abusive fucked up hero? Or Was it something more simple like the Book covers? Or luck? Or that zeitgeisty thingy again?
This blog is no journey. It is picking a scab.
However, by having fun here, talking about your (non)career and passing on your many dirty writing tips (hah!)you plan to move from a state of envy to ‘mudita’ – This is a Buddhist concept which means “sympathetic joy” or “happiness in another’s good fortune”. (Yeah, I hadn’t heard of that either).