A Writer's Life is a Lonely Life...

Or is it?

Writing is a solitary occupation, isn’t it? When I had a ‘proper job’, that is, one where I went into an office every day, I had ready-made colleagues, bosses, clients and acquaintances.  There were people to have lunch with and colleagues to bounce ideas off. There was a whole support network – someone to call if my computer didn’t work or someone to ask if I wasn’t sure about something. There were meetings, socials, team bonding days. There was office banter and gossip around the coffee machine. I shan’t even mention the certainty of a monthly income as reward for the work I did. I knew that these were the things I would miss in my brave new life, tucked away from the real world, just the dog and me, my lap-top and my imagination. Along with the insane idea that writing might, eventually, earn me something, even though I knew the odds were very much against it. 

But there were also things I knew I wouldn’t miss. Office politics. The drudge of the daily commute. The lottery of whether the boss was a decent human being or not. The stress and the backstabbing. I swapped these to stay in my pyjamas all day, if I wanted. To work in bed, if I wanted. But, just like everything else, a writing life has its ups and downs. My real reason for giving up my career was to be around more for my children, in particular, for one who had suffered a severe and debilitating illness. It was also an opportunity to give writing a real shot, something I’d never had enough time for before. 

As an un-published author, however, I felt uncomfortable. I was playing at it. I couldn’t be a real one, because I wasn’t published. I was sure people didn’t take me seriously and I imagined they thought I was lounging about at home with nothing better to do than watch daytime TV and tap out a few words every day. I actually have no idea what anyone really thought, I never asked them. These were undoubtedly introspective self-reflections only. But I do distinctly remember one conversation with a lady on the phone while I was renewing the car insurance. In answering the question ‘and what is your occupation?’ I proudly, for the first time, said ‘writer’. There was a hesitation at the end of the phone, then the question ‘do you actually earn any money from writing?’ ‘Well, no, not yet… But I will, some day.’ I stammered in reply. She took a deep breath. ‘Not to worry,’ she said breezily, ‘I’ll put your occupation down as housewife.’ My humiliation was complete, and I’d never felt more alone.

As a writer, there was no one to fix my printer when it didn’t work or the heating when it failed. There was no one but me to work out how to fix the plot or the characters and decide which agents I should approach, and whether the manuscript was ready to send out. It can be lonely sat at home, day after day, drafting and re-drafting, wondering if this thing is really, ever, going to be any good. Some days, it all seemed to fall into place. Others, many others, I queried my sanity.

But I stuck at it. I reached out and, low and behold, I discovered a whole new world of friends, colleagues and acquaintances amongst the authorial universe I never knew existed. Both published and un-published (it matters not), there is a wonderful community of writers, connecting and supporting each other both on-line and in person. Whilst the writing itself can be solitary, there is also so much of a writer’s life which most definitely is not. I am part of a writers’ group who meet regularly; I have a network of local author friends with whom I also meet regularly to talk shop. Then there is the hugely supportive on-line community of authors through Facebook Groups and Twitter which allow us to connect with each other (not all social media is bad!). There are the connections I’ve made through my extensive research for the books I write. As a published author, I now have agents, editors and publicists in my life to advise and support me. On top of this are numerous opportunities to talk with authors, the publishing community and readers at literary festivals, author and publishing events, libraries, book shops, book groups, schools, colleges and universities, and a myriad of other such gatherings that take place across the writing year. 

I’m embracing as many of these opportunities to meet new friends and connect with other like-minded people as I can find time for. Writers, readers, bloggers, publishers, agents - we all have one thing in common: books and an insatiable love of reading. 

And if I ever get bored of staring at my four walls, I can always take my laptop and work in the comforting background hum of a local café. I just have to remember to get out of my pyjamas first.