In a discussion about envy on Skint Writer's blog, I sat in the garden this morning and mulled over my comments. Do I have 'writer envy', honestly, and if not, then why not?
Envy is a strong word, a sin according the 'seven deadlies'. Should I have some, will it make me a better writer? Have I set my goals too low, should envy be a motivator? Help, I'm going round in circles.
I think age has something to do with this conundrum. I already have a career that I am (mostly) sucessful at. Writing came late. Like a lot of people, after personal tragedies, I looked for ways to express myself and the keyboard came looking for me. I never thought that I would just keep going and I was delighted when I had written 90,000 words and realised that it was novel length. It was crap, but I had fallen in love with my own words.
Age has given me a confidence that I didn't have in my twenties, nor possibly in my thirties. Life experiences have brought me screaming into my forties and given me a gift that I realise that many will never be given. I can admire other writers and appreciate their writing gifts. I feel only warmth when I hear that someone has made it.
I am, in short, at peace with myself and at peace with my writing. I have ambition, but it is only for me, myself and I!