But then, the doubts start creeping in. They read it, they claim, but they didn’t have a place for it. Does this mean it wasn’t good enough, not deep enough, not literary enough? Are the characters too superficial? Should I rewrite? What if no-one accepts it? What if there are too many books in this genre out there already? What if this entire series I have conceived will be a waste of time because it’s too late and too derivative?
On the other hand, my hero, Iain Banks, Gods bless him, wrote half a dozen novels before he got one accepted. This is the rule. I am only on my second – well, third actually, if you count the one I am writing now as a sequel. Chances are, that one will be a damn site better than ‘The Seventh’, just as ‘The Seventh’ is streets better than ‘Woad’, my first.
And so I will fiddle with my manuscript of ‘The Seventh’, dot the ‘I’s and cross the ‘t’s , and keep plugging away. I mean, if Dan Brown can get published, why shouldn’t I?