A Thought on Writing
For a male novelist, writing fiction feels like the nearest thing to the experience of motherhood.
Coming up with a story idea is like the joy of knowing you’ve conceived; writing the novel is like being in protracted labour (though thankfully free of the physical pain); revision is like the delight of caring for and nurturing the newborn through its first few months; and publication is like watching your grown-up child go out into the world and seeking success for himself or herself.
I guess that, somewhere along the way, other writers are likely to have said something similar. The fiction writing process and motherhood are so akin.
Anyhow, that was what I was thinking when I lay in bed this morning before getting up to write. By the way, my latest novel (Green Machinations) is now at the advanced revision stage, the cover is being designed, and publication is not far off.
Coming up with a story idea is like the joy of knowing you’ve conceived; writing the novel is like being in protracted labour (though thankfully free of the physical pain); revision is like the delight of caring for and nurturing the newborn through its first few months; and publication is like watching your grown-up child go out into the world and seeking success for himself or herself.
I guess that, somewhere along the way, other writers are likely to have said something similar. The fiction writing process and motherhood are so akin.
Anyhow, that was what I was thinking when I lay in bed this morning before getting up to write. By the way, my latest novel (Green Machinations) is now at the advanced revision stage, the cover is being designed, and publication is not far off.
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