Over a year ago, in a conversation with my editor, I confessed that I'd been struggling -- really struggling -- with the second novel. I speculated that this could have something to do with the publication of the first novel, and the new & unprecedented feeling of paralyzing terror at the thought of sitting down to write.
I think it's the shock of every writer's life when their first book is published. The shock of their lives. One has somehow to adjust from being anonymous, a figure in ambush, working from concealment, to being and working in full public view. It had an enormous effect on me. My impression was that I had suddenly walked into a wall of heavy hostile fire. That first year I wrote verses with three magical assonances to the line with the intention of abolishing certain critics! Now I read those reviews and they seem quite good. So it was writer's paranoia. The shock to a person who's never been named in public of being mentioned in newspapers can be absolutely traumatic. To everyone else it looks harmless, even enviable.
I won't go on, because there is nothing more obnoxious than a writer complaining how hard it is to write. Complaining writers need a slap!


Don't you also think it's because you spend your whole life writing your first novel, and a year or two writing your second?
Posted by: Niall | December 08, 2009 at 07:11 PM
I'm not sure. Most of the time, the "first novel" isn't actually your first novel. It's usually your third or fourth (it was my fourth). There's a loss of freedom, a sense of self-consciousness when writing the "second novel" (the first novel after publication) that I'd never felt in my life until after what Hughes calls the "great shock." You think you're prepared for public consumption, and then you're not.
Posted by: Katherine Taylor | December 08, 2009 at 07:56 PM
Yes. Thank you for this.
(My first was my third, too.)
Posted by: Antoine Wilson | December 11, 2009 at 08:55 AM