This is very interesting. I would like to be published and have been writing with that end in sight, but what inspired my novel was a story about my family which has always fascinated me, and which I'm hoping will fascinate others. I suppose in deciding how to tell the story, I am thinking of potential readers, but the story itself is independent of them. It takes so much time and effort to write a novel, that it seems only natural to want some kind of reward at the end of it, whether that's money, praise or both. However, like Dee, I've always written short stories purely for my own amusement.

As for lots of rubbish getting published, that seems to be a matter of taste, even for literary fiction. Look at the debate over John Banville's Booker prize-winning book. Also, given that British publishing seems to be a small industry controlled by white, middle class Arts graduates, I wonder how aware they are of what people from other backgrounds want to read. Does anyone know if there are any people with working class origins in positions of power in UK fiction publishing? I've always imagined that the low salaries would put them off. Publishing still has an image of being dominated by people with private incomes, whether that's true or not.

Is it different in America? Emma, your profile says you’ve lived in Manhattan; do you know?

Larissa.

Len, perhaps I misunderstood you. The reason I started this exercise is because, for years now, I've been writing with a determination to get my work published. That determination has not diminished one jot but I fear that the traditional routes to mainstream publishing are becoming so narrow it’s actually impossible to get through unless you have something other than your skill as a writer to attract the marketing teams.

This experiment is pure self-indulgence. It may be brilliant writing, it may be crap, probably it’s between the two. I still edit, still care about the quality of it, but I'm writing it simply for my own pleasure. And that feels damned good!

Dee

Emma, having my novel rejected because of the vagaries of the market rather than the quality of the work was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to accept. It was, and still is, incredibly frustrating.

Coming back to something you mentioned earlier – yes I do regret taking out the murder because I think it weakened the plot. And now that the novel has been hawked round most of the mainstream publishers it’s dead in the water. I hope I have the strength of my convictions to not be swayed in that way again but at the time I was so thrilled to have an agent interested I would have eaten my own head if he’d asked me to.

Dee

Hi again, Dee,

I truly do understand what you are saying and I applaud you if you are able to achieve this completely detached attitude.

I have found that even starting off with the intention of truly writing completely and utterly for myself, as soon as my writing becomes affected by grammatical considerations, by choices of differenr words and phrases, by striving to describe scenes, colours, characters, through introducing dialogue, emotion and so on, I realise that the subconscious switch is in the 'on' position.

As all this happens as soon as I start putting words onto the screen, the moment my creativity and imagination culminate in my fingers being on the keys, the freedom you express is lost.

The interesting factor - from my personal viewpoint - is that I do not seek publication, books on shelves, fame and fortune and all that goes with it, but I cannot deny that I write knowing full well that I have this monkey on my back.

Len

I think this is a great idea, Dee. I may try it soon, once I've finished my T&K synopsis and have had a little break! I'm curious as to whether it'll feel like a relief or whether it'll actually really be hard to shake the feeling of writing for a purpose other than your own enjoyment.

This reminds me of a quote I read by Caroline Myss, who writes interesting books on spirituality. She said there was a time in her life where she was just doing an admin type job and she stopped worrying about achieving, etc. It led her to believe that we are at our most powerful when we have nothing to prove to anyone!

Cath

Insane Bartender, where did you come back from?!

A little bird told me that you guys needed an injection of 'je ne sais pas ce qui'.

Who better to delver?

<Added>

And indeed, who better to mistype while proclaiming such...

Hehe, have to admit, it's good timing - would be v. curious to know who the little bird was...

Dee, this is a really interesting experiment. It reminds me of Wendy Cope's famous (and funny) adaptation of A Policeman's Lot, which you remember is based on a quote from Ted Hughes:

"The progress of any writer is marked by those moments when he manages to outwit his own inner police system."

Very true. Perhaps this is the case in your ambitions too?

I just have to say that at the moment all my writing is for pleasure. I do not have the time (or energy) to search for publication so am just writing for my own sake.
Since I decided to do that I have enjoyed writing far more and (I think) produced better stuff.

Once I get a bit more time - probably not for donkey's years - I will write another novel but I am going to write it for me and no-one else.

Gina.

Good for you, Gina. There's no one more worth writing for than yourself. Listening to others, later, who tell you that you haven't quite done yourself justice is fine. It's setting out to fit someone else's prescription at the beginning that's so unfruitful.

Emma

Dee, I certainly do do that. I started the same experiment in 2001 thinking exactly the same as you. I just wanted to enjoy writing for myself. Otherwise. what's the point? Out of that came a novel. Tony Blair: The Wilderness Years emerged this year. It does NOT fit the publisher's Excel spreadsheet marketing profile. I'm proud of that. But also, it's doing incredibly well. Yours will be a good experiment. Something great will come of it. Many people will enjoy reading your writing when it's at its best, ie when you're enjoying writing. Good luck.
Ian Duncan Smith

Most of this seems to be about writing fiction. It's interesting to look at it in terms of poetry - usually I think more about making my poetry better than changing it so that more people will want to read it. True, I like to get things published - who doesn't? - but so few people seem to buy (I think many more read) poetry anyway and there is such a diversity of styles I don't think it matters so much. However, I have heard complaints about mainstream poetry being dominated by a few individuals - but then there are many small presses around.
So maybe poets have more freedom in this respect?
Apsara

Apsara, I suspect that's true: commercially speaking, poetry publishing is a lost cause, so you have that freedom, only seeking an audience on your terms. I would stand up for the idea that fiction writers who really want to fulfil their creative capacity should do that too, but since there is the very slight possibility of earning a living by exercising the craft of fiction, if not the art, I can't blame anyone who concentrates on the former.

But poetry in general is not a lost cause, and I have wondered if the equivalent of all us novelists quietly making our heroes tall, dark and handsome and about 87,345 words long, is the way that poets more and more think about how their poetry will sound, rather than how it will read on the page. The audience has become event-based, aural. One might just think, 'what goes around, comes around,' and that we're going back to Homer and the Welsh bards. But poetry that hearers and poetry that readers can make sense of are different. Hearers hear rhythm, rhyme, excitement. It's a group thing: performance, drama. And it's affected by how good the performer-poet is. Poetry for readers is about quiet, thought, re-reading, the slow burn, the personal response. It's affected by paper and typography and layout and whether the dog needs feeding. They are different.

Emma