Becoming a full-time writer

I'm finally realising a lifelong ambition, but am I up to it?

Image: Mary Evans Picture Library

I’m not sure when I first knew I wanted to be a writer. I used to watch my mum writing poetry, and loved hearing the results. From then on, the idea of one day being a writer was never far from my thoughts.

As I became increasingly interested / obsessed with politics and the state of the world, I thought I might be able to make some contribution to changing things through writing. The arrogance of youth soon fades in the face of reality, but that ambition did eventually lead to the publication of my book, The Possibility of Progress, back in 2005.

There followed a long piece in The Guardian to promote the book, and then a couple years during which I had sixty-odd pieces published in the same newspaper’s ground-breaking Comment is Free online opinion section.

But I never had the courage to take up writing full time. I enjoyed holidays too much, meals out, taking advantage of the immense cultural riches on my doorstep here in London, all of which costs. Ultimately my desire not to be poor outweighed my ambition to write.

And anyway, I could still write in my spare time. Twenty-five years ago, I started what turned out to be my last ‘proper job’ at Mary Evans Picture Library, a super-convenient 10 minute walk from my home in Lewisham.

My plan was to work there for three or four years, finish my book, and in the process set myself up as a full-time writer. But before I knew it I’d been there ten years, and then twenty. It was only as my twenty-fifth anniversary approached that I thought perhaps it was time to take the plunge. Of course, it helped that over that quarter century I’d been able to build up a reasonable pension pot.

So here I am, sixty years old and finally in a position to write full-time. I still believe that good writing has the potential to change things. I still cling to the belief that ultimately the pen will prove mightier than the sword. This is altogether different to saying I have easy answers to any of the problems that currently plague our deeply-troubled civilization.

Which brings me to what I plan to write about.

Like most writers, I dream about having a best seller. And were the stars to align, who knows, it may still happen. But in the meantime, all of my writing will be published here on Substack.

I’ve already made a decent start with two of the three substacks that will be the focus of my full-time writing career.

Progress and Survival (where you are reading this) covers politics, economics and culture. It’s where I attempt to put the world to rights.

Current events appear to prove my theory that the moment we stop trying to create a better world, things go very quickly into reverse. Our survival as a civilization depends on a shared belief in the possibility of social, cultural and economic progress. Progress towards a world in which more people have a positive and fulfilling experience of life. I like to think of civilization as a process: things can either get better or they can get worse. They do not remain constant.

While the topics covered on Progress and Survival range from the consideration of arcane bits of economic philosophy to sublime works of art, the emphasis is the same: how we make the world a better place for more people, and what it means for human beings to have a positive experience of life.

Then there is my historical fiction substack, The Bloomsbury Trilogy, where I am currently serialising the first in my planned trilogy of novels about The Bloomsbury Group. I’m now up to Chapter 27 of Maynard’s War, and while subscriber numbers may not be stellar, they are sufficient to persuade me to start work on the second novel, which currently has the working title Leonard’s Ascent.

And finally, later this year, I will be launching a wine-themed substack: Wine Stories. A few years ago I took some time out from writing to study for a professional wine qualification. It was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done, but one of the most rewarding. I now hope to pass on some of what I learned by joining the small band of excellent wine writers here on Substack.

In a recent post, Christina Patterson asked a couple of questions pertinent to all writers, and those aspiring to be writers:

Do you find it difficult to give yourself permission to write or make art? Does it feel self-indulgent or does it feel like something you have to do?

The context of Christina’s fabulous piece is the 250th anniversary of the birth of Jane Austen. She reminds us that Austen’s father, when he gave her a writing box for her 21st birthday, was essentially giving her permission to write at a time when society largely forbade women from doing anything remotely creative.

As a middle-class white male, I’m fortunate not to need such permission, and I know how lucky I am to be able to realise my ambition to write full time. But, like most writers, my self-belief varies wildly from day to day.

Writing is certainly something I feel I have to do, though I have no idea why it’s such an important part of my identity. And while writing is obviously self-indulgent, I hope it’s self-indulgent in a way that does no harm to other people. Unless you count the innocent readers who are sometimes subjected to my poor grammar.

The feeling I struggle with most frequently is: what’s the point? Does the effort I put into writing actually change anything, even a tiny bit? Are the readers who give me positive feedback just being kind, or are they really enjoying my work?

I know these feelings are almost entirely a function of my state of mind. Some days, when it’s going well, and I’m feeling good, I have no doubt that armed with my mighty pen (or more usually keyboard) I could vanquish any number of sword-wielding warmongers. Then I read the news and I’m back to square one.

But until someone convinces me of a better way to spend my time, I shall follow Churchill’s advice and keep buggering on.

And who knows, perhaps a combination of access to new readers made possible by Substack, and following Christina’s advice to hone my sensibilities in order to become a better writer, I might be able to persuade more people to follow me on my journey.