Envy, ego, pride and pain: what I learned from publishing my first book
T here are only two types of people who make the mistake of writing a book: non-writers, who don’t know any better; and writers, who can never be happy and therefore must always seek out pain in order to feel alive. Either way, every book is the product of suffering. The best thing a new author can hope for is to discover that he is a masochist.
After two decades as a journalist, I published my first book in 2024. This does not make me special. In the same way that people in relationships often wake up one day married with kids due purely to peer pressure, all professional writers bear the burden of the expectation that they will write a book. With each passing year, those who haven’t done so are regarded with increasing suspicion. Typing all those words, but not a single book? Why, don’t you have anything to say?
As a young man, I regarded the book-publishing industry as an unapproachable bastion of erudite literary sophisticates. I was relieved of this notion during the years that I wrote for a popular blog, and regularly received solicitations from agents and editors encouraging me to turn my latest viral blogpost into a book. Though flattered, I was always struck with skepticism at their enthusiasm.
