Ten years of making stuff up

A memory came up on Facebook the other day that kind of brought me up short.

Mostly these reminders are good, sometimes not so good. This one made me realise that, while I often think I waste too much time, it turns out I really haven’t.

It’s been ten years since my first novel BLOOD CITY was published. Some of you know that I had books out there prior to that but they were all non-fiction. My very first book was published in 1992. Which is quite incredible because I’m only 32.

Yeah, I’m snorting at that myself.

Anyway, 2013 saw me finally make the leap into fiction and here’s what I’ve done since:

Three further Davie McCalls;

Two Dominic Questes;

One stand alone in THE JANUS RUN (which wasn’t supposed to be a stand alone but them’s the breaks, kid);

One fact book about Scotland;

Five Rebecca Connollys (the fifth coming in July);

One novella, co-written with Morgan Cry (aka Gordon Brown);

Two Jonas Flynts (the second coming in May);

Three comedy plays;

One comedy sketch show;

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Add to that I’ve produced various short stories, blogs, podcasts and articles, have fronted one documentary and appeared in others, have appeared at festivals and events, including numerous attempts to find that plot with the Four Blokes.

Also, by the end of the year I’ll have written another Rebecca and another Jonas.

So that means in ten years I will have written 16 books, along with everything else.

No wonder I’m tired!

We won’t talk about the ups and downs of life and love, pandemics and when I ran out of milk. We all have hurdles we have to overcome.

Ok, Douglas, so what’s the point of all this? Are you just showing off?

I’m glad you asked that (yes, I am showing off). There is a point. And it’s this:

Sometimes you’re making progress and you don’t realise it. Writing is a lonely occupation, we sit alone at a desk and make stuff up. Speaking personally, that often does not come easily. There are days when I can barely string two words together, let alone reach my 2k target. However, I persevere because it’s my job. This is what I do.

As Stephen King once wrote, sometimes you’re doing good work when it feels like all you’re managing is to shovel shit from a sitting position.

Sometimes, though, what you’re shovelling really is a load of manure. But hey, that’s what subsequent drafts are for.

A lot happened in those ten years and when you’re on the merry-go-round of life sometimes the world just slips by in a blur and even though you think you’re only going round in circles you are actually getting somewhere. 

I am thankful that my books see the light of day. I am grateful I can make a living at this – I’m far from Mr King’s income bracket but I can pay the gas bill (so far).

Yes, sometimes life gets in the way. But there’s an old adage that writers write. One word follows another, one sentence follows another, one paragraph follows another. Soon you have a chapter, and then another and another and then you have a book. 

Another adage – they don’t need to be good, they just need to be written. Good can come later.

Sixteen books in the years. Yes, there were – and are – times when I think I cannot write and there are no more words. In truth, I’m feeling that now. But it will pass. The words will come, they will become sentences, etc., etc.

How? To quote Shakespeare in Love, I don’t know. It’s a mystery.

But then, I am a mystery writer.

Sort of.