LIVING WITH THE AUTHOR

It is almost two years since my son jumped off the tread mill in order to become a writer full time. Although he hated his job as a Financial Editor it was well paid so it took considerable courage for him to quit. He spent months saving enough money to bankroll his first three novels,all to be within six months and then began what was to turn out to be an adventure for all of us.

He wrote like a daemon, all the while battling with self doubt, the odd thing was that among all his friends and family he was the only one who ever doubted his ability to succeed!

The first novel was a run away success, and I shall never forget the look of total incredulity on my modest boys face when the five star reviews began to come in thick and fast.

We celebrated.

The writing of the second novel proved a challenge. Could he do it again? Again he was the only one in doubt and it took longer than he had planned to begin the next book. One night, as I made myself a coffee I discovered that he was not asleep, it was three in the morning, realising that something must be wrong I made coffee for us both and took a mug to his room .

We talked for the rest of the night and during that time I saw once again the dear little boy who would come to me for reassurance or solace when things were tough. My boy is strong, he is brave and fearless, but which of us has not faced paralysing self doubt in the small hours of the night when we humans are at our lowest ebb.

I said the sort of things that mothers always say at such times, hoping it would be enough and grieved that I could no longer chase away his troubles with a hug or kiss it better. It was dawn before our neglected beds receive two weary people and as a consequence we both slept late the next day.

When I woke it was to the sound of some rather stirring music coming from my sons room, this and the rattle of the keyboard told me that work had begun again. Three weeks later the second novel aired.

Consoling himself with the fact that he was earning a good amount of money long before he had expected it he had gritted his teeth and begun again.

During this time both Pa and I were unwell,indeed Pa underwent some pretty hair raising surgery during this crucial time. My son dealt with these difficulties without a qualm and in spite of all these problems completed his third novel on time.

By now it was obvious to everyone that we had a success on our hands, and yet, each time he finishes a book the same old doubts creep in. “Can I do it again.” “How long will my luck last.”

This is the price paid by all creative people and it is a toll which I myself have, in the past, had to pay. Coming to terms with the fact that “You are only as good as your last novel,painting or performance” is something that all artists have to live with and some are destroyed by the pressure this creates.

I am glad that I can use my own experience of this to help my son and it has strengthened the bond between us.

His latest novel was begun yesterday. Here we go again!