Forgetmenot

Last year I embarked on a writing journey. I enjoy writing and was curious to see if I could write a book. It turned out to be a bit of a stupid question. Anyone can write a book if they put the time into it. The harder question to answer was; could I write a book that people would consider worth reading?

I have read many articles and blog posts to educate myself on writing a novel. Like any other topic you care to think of, the internet has advice for Africa on how to be a winning author. The challenge was to distill the wheat from the chaff. But trouble is, as a complete novice you have little idea of what either looks like.

So my simple solution was to ignore all the advice and write what I would like to read. Target demographic; a middle class gen X male, delusions of grandeur, maturity still a long way off catching up with his age, who enjoys escapist fiction which does not make him think too hard. Target market sorted, so into it I climbed.

12 months from first sketching out the storyline, I penned the climatic finish. I was the proud owner of a 90,000 word manuscript! I had two partners in crime during this time who provided feedback on each chapter as I completed them. One, my sister Katie, was an enthusiastic cheerleader who made me feel like I was a writing genius. The other, my stepfather-in-law, was far more critical and made me feel like I was a complete novice with a very tenuous grasp on grammar. A flawed genius one might conclude, but sadly that would be over-calling it. The pair were a perfect combination for me.

The stupid joy of finally having the book in my hands was beyond what I imaged. Although it is not the finished article, it was so cool to see it in print. But what gave me even more pleasure was giving a copy to my mother (who resides in a rest home close by). Pride was just oozing out of her. All my writing and editing was worth it just to see her delight and hear her happy giggles. She practically kicked me out so she could go and show her friends!

She doesn’t know it yet, but she has written a review of it. 

His father and I had no inkling that he could write like this. He hardly spoke a word as a teenager. He just communicated in grunts. So this is a wonderful surprise. I love this book. But probably because he has shown he can finish something rather than it having any chance of finding some buyers. Alison.

And the best thing is, she has dementia. So if she enjoys it, she gets to repeat the experience time and time again. But if she thinks it’s shit, she will forget and I’ll still be a rock star! The perfect audience.

My target market has just widened to include forgetful old people.