The title of my last post was 'It's been a long time...' It has. Almost two years to be precise. For a writer in the early days of his career to decide to take a two year hiatus (two and a half if you count the time from the publication of The Surrogate to today) is akin to committing career suicide. Just as you start to develop something of a following with readers eager to read and review your next piece of work and you give them a big fat nothing. They move on and so does publishing. It's not that I've been completely absent, it's just that I've other things on my mind. Things a little more important than sitting at my laptop into the late hours.
My daughter is now 15 months old. The last time I posted I'd only just seen her on a 13 week scan, but from that moment, my world turned upside down. All of a sudden, writing didn't seem to matter any longer. I spent most of my free time looking after my partner, trying to come up with a cure for morning (and afternoon and evening) sickness, further ultrasound scans, spending the royalties of my first book in Mamas and Papas, moving from a two bedroom flat overlooking the park to a three bedroom semi with decent transport links and trying to get ahead in my then new job. There was no time in the immediate aftermath of finding out I was going to be a father for writing and yet ironically I had become one of my very own characters.
When I look back on the middle chapters of The Surrogate, I wonder how much richer that novel could have been for actually having experienced what Tristan was going through. How much could I have added? How many little anecdotes - such as the experience I had a birthing classes - could have improved that book? But as I have already said, there was no time for thinking about writing, let alone reflecting on reader's feedback or my own life experience.
My daughter, Emily Rose was born on February 10th 2013 and I was smitten. For the past 15 months I have spent every last minute I could watching her smile and cry. Changing nappies and waking up in the middle of the night at every sort and moan. Lately I've read book after book to her when I came home from work, sat and watched Peppa Pig and Thomas the Tank Engine with her. I've taken her to the park and on bike rides and to the zoo and the farm. We go swimming at weekends. All the moments I have, I want to spend with her, which is why I haven't written more than a page in nearly two years. But that has to change...
The same reason I haven't written a word in anger over the last two years is the same reason I have to write now. In twenty years time, when my daughter and I are discussing her career options, I want to be able to say her to her that I gave it my best shot. I want to be an example to her, that if you have a passion for something, then you should do that and try and make a career out of it. I don't want her to ask me what I was passionate about and not be able to answer. Being a father is the most important part of my life and yet the most important part of being a father is being somebody that my daughter can look up to. Even if that is writing 'drivel' (Thank you AMAZON CUSTOMER).
So, back to the grind...
