The London publishing scene has left authors in a state of existential dread it seems. Either that or the unfair amount of August rain. Granta-listed author Derek Owusu revealed yesterday that when the news of his accolade went public, “things didn’t feel as expected.” How so? He wrote in GQ, “becoming a published author can sometimes create an infantile need to be told, constantly, your work is important. The publishing industry does much to feed these feelings.”
Owusu is not the only one feeling put off by the sycophants. Irish author Megan Nolan also noted this uncomfortable feeling of egoism, inflated by the industry, that leads writers to chase recognition over achievement. In her New Statesman column on the “trauma” of publishing a book, she wrote “you are filled, however briefly, with a delusional sense of your own importance. People will confirm this for you, repeatedly, because it is their job to do so.”
Nolan is currently in New York but even across the pond she can’t escape the general anxiety of authors. Over cocktails, her novelist friend revealed to Nolan that she “cried with loneliness the night she learned she sold her book.” Perhaps success isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
