Developing Mister D / The Infernal Aether

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Writer

While I've been hard at work writing, editing and posting chapters of The Internal Aether, as well as trying (and, you'll have noticed, failing miserably) to blog regularly on the process, it's occurred to me why no-one's made a reality TV show about writing.

For the writer it's a bizarre process, a rollercoaster of frustration, excitement, irritation and deep joy. But it's all internal. Even the high-trousered demi-god / son-of-satan (*delete as applicable) that is Simon Cowell would struggle to inject any excitement into the process as a TV spectacle.

For me, what springs to mind is the episode of The Big Bang Theory when Sheldon and Raj do some serious thinking to the tune of "Eye of the Tiger"...

I think my friends and family have often been mystified as to why I want to spend hours just sitting, scribbling and writing, occasionally pausing to glare at anyone who dares to try and interrupt me. There are times when I ask myself the same question. There's a quote, though, which for me sums it up perfectly:

"A writer is someone who cannot not write."

That's a line from a book I read some time ago - I thought that it was from John Braine's "How to Write a Novel", although I now can't find the exact quote so wonder if I just imagined it. Regardless, it's a line that's stuck with me over the years.

Ever since I was a kid, there have always been two things guaranteed to make me insanely jealous, to make me want to do what they do: a good guitarist and a good writer. Putting to one side the guitar thing (listening to me play guitar is like watching me cook: best done from a distance and preferably whilst wearing ear plugs...), writing is something I've thrown myself into time and again all through my life. Looking through this site and many others, I know I'm not alone in this; there are plenty of profiles that echo what I feel.

I've always wanted to be a writer. Don't know why: I could have been normal and want to be a footballer or a Formula One driver or lead singer in a band... Actually, I've wanted to be all of those things, along with a fireman, astronaut and pirate (sometimes all at the same time). However, writing is the one thing I've consistently come back to and kept plugging away at, time after time.

If you think about it, us writers are a bit of a bizarre bunch, and we certainly put ourselves through it just to end up with some words on a page. For me, the process typically goes something like this:

- The wide-eyed ecstasy of the initial flash of inspiration.

- The giddiness of thinking through an idea, sculpting it into something which holds together as a story.

- Crashing down to earth as I find holes in it, or realise it's not quite as good as I thought it was.

- The joy of filling in those holes.

- The excitement of setting down pen to paper (or finger to keyboard).

- Usually one sentence or paragraph later, the frustration of running out of steam.

- The surprise at suddenly realising I've written a good-sized section and that there actually is something worthwhile in there after all.

- That wonderful, zen-like phase when I'm immersed in my story, words flowing from me, the screen filling with this wonderful, funny, tragic, exciting, terrible world that I'm giving birth to.

- The dreadful long, dark, tea-time of the soul when I suddenly doubt everything, wonder how I could ever have have thought this was a good idea.

- The determination to plough on through; the frustration of those last, endless chapters / pages / paragraphs / words / lines.

- And finally the relief at pressing on that final full-stop.

At the end of all that, there's the excitement and anticipation of sending off my work of genius to publishers, agents or editors, followed inevitably by the heart-dropping moment when the rejection letters come through.

Thanks to the internet and sites like this though, I can now add another phase: the sheer, unbridled joy of someone - anyone - reading my words and taking the time to comment on what I've done (hopefully positively!). In the past I've jealously hoarded my work until I'm 100% convinced it's perfect, which typically has meant very little actually seeing the light of day.

So chucking The Infernal Aether out there as I've been writing has been a bit of a wrench for me, a leap of faith. But I think it's probably the best thing I've done; the fact that people have been kind enough to look at and comment on my stuff means the world to me. Even if it never goes anywhere apart from this site, I know I can take satisfaction from the fact that I am a writer and a little corner of the internet belongs to my bizarre little world, which you're all welcome to visit as much as you want.

That's not to say I don't want to make money out of this (*smiles and winks hopefully - not in a creepy way - at any potential publishers or agents wandering past*)...!