Curious how it is in its many forms, doing well can sometimes be difficult. I’ve just seen Pat Rothfuss’ blog post about the delay to book 2 and all the abuse he’s had with it, abuse that Grrr Martin has also had to take. It’s a strange thing, dealing with other people’s expectations and having to explain how, it takes a year to write a book and then four or five months after to get it published in the UK. Because I have a job, my deadlines are at 18 months, that means it could take two years from start to finish, although some of that happens before the last book actually comes out.
In Pat’s blog he mentions that he’s been massively successful, because he has. 27 publishers around the world and sales like he’s seen means massively successful. Because of that, there are a lot of people demanding his time and like Grrr (I don’t know why I call him that either, except it makes me smile) Martin, that adds to the massive pressure he’s under.
By contrast, I’m really not doing as well. Make no mistake, both I and my publisher are very happy with how I’m doing – it’s well in excess of most debuts and it means I only have to work part-time which had changed my stress levels massively, but I’m not at Pat’s level of success. Paying the bills is good for a writer, buying a house outright is something you can’t expect, only dream for. However, I find it interesting to see that he’s hugely stressed and sound rather depressed with all the attention (cos like me, he just wants to sit around at home and make stuff up, rather than be international writing hero) – with my far more modest success and the other things going on my life, I’ve never been happier. Life rocks, even if I do have to argue with literary agents every day, most of the responses I get about my books rock, my friends rock, and I lack the words to say how much my fiancee rocks, but it’s like, a lot!
Terrible things in the economy, jobs being lost everywhere, I almost feel a bit guilty about the fact I’m not working as hard as I used to, earning more, loving my life and things have never been better. If the abuse and stress Pat Rothfuss gets is the price of success, I’m not sure I really want it.