What a difference a decade makes
About eight years ago I won a short-story competition. At the time I was having a non-fiction book published (about Marketing). I was beginning to believe, 'I can do this writing malarkey.'
My short story was a crime mystery. It was published in an anthology. Meanwhile, rattling in my ‘rejected’ closet was the fully fleshed skeleton of a full-length whodunit, written some five years earlier. When Kindle came along I thought, ‘What the heck’, and – ignoring my agent’s advice not to give up the day job – published it myself.
Generous readers (mainly) ignored my undeveloped novel-writing skills, and said they liked the characters, the setting and the plot. Others (usefully) pointed out some of its (my) shortcomings. However, the consensus was, ‘Are there any more?’ So, a good decade after writing the first, I started upon a series. Number five is currently in progress.
While I was giving away #1 free, I didn’t mind too much that it left something to be desired. But as the popularity of the series has grown, folk have started buying it. So, for two weeks this January, I disappeared from family life and re-wrote the book: same characters, same plot – just a different writer. (Don’t we renew our body cells every 10 years?)
Fingers crossed that it is much improved (I guess the ratings will eventually tell me this). The biggest shock was the final word-count – 20,000 fewer than the original. Perhaps in my naivety I had been trying too hard?
Remarkably, other things had changed, too. Email has replaced fax machines, and data can be received on the move. DNA analysis is making redundant “the little grey cells” (although not in my books). And Wembley Stadium’s twin towers are gone! How will England ever win the World Cup again without them?
My short story was a crime mystery. It was published in an anthology. Meanwhile, rattling in my ‘rejected’ closet was the fully fleshed skeleton of a full-length whodunit, written some five years earlier. When Kindle came along I thought, ‘What the heck’, and – ignoring my agent’s advice not to give up the day job – published it myself.
Generous readers (mainly) ignored my undeveloped novel-writing skills, and said they liked the characters, the setting and the plot. Others (usefully) pointed out some of its (my) shortcomings. However, the consensus was, ‘Are there any more?’ So, a good decade after writing the first, I started upon a series. Number five is currently in progress.
While I was giving away #1 free, I didn’t mind too much that it left something to be desired. But as the popularity of the series has grown, folk have started buying it. So, for two weeks this January, I disappeared from family life and re-wrote the book: same characters, same plot – just a different writer. (Don’t we renew our body cells every 10 years?)
Fingers crossed that it is much improved (I guess the ratings will eventually tell me this). The biggest shock was the final word-count – 20,000 fewer than the original. Perhaps in my naivety I had been trying too hard?
Remarkably, other things had changed, too. Email has replaced fax machines, and data can be received on the move. DNA analysis is making redundant “the little grey cells” (although not in my books). And Wembley Stadium’s twin towers are gone! How will England ever win the World Cup again without them?
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