Genre Reveal Party
Online comment / Notebook / Blog / Funeral / Novel idea / Spy novel
23 Sep 2024:
Today I received a comment criticising the quality of my writing. It didn’t bother me at all. I have nothing but confidence in my writerly abilities. And besides, as a Serious Literary Author, I have more important things to worry about than the opinions of strangers online. Indeed, I didn’t even give it a second thought. In fact, I didn’t even give it a first thought – that’s how utterly unmoved I was by the whole thing. When I clicked on his profile, it was immediately clear to me that he was, as Gen Zee might say, a loser. His follower count may have been over five times higher than my own, but it was no doubt mostly comprised of idiots and bots, whereas my own followers are all discerning littérateurs. His profile picture was a simple ‘selfie’, clearly taken with the inferior front camera rather than the rear. He was actually quite attractive, but in a rather obvious way, with good skin, hair and eyes. I was able to find his profile on various other online platforms, and after browsing all of the photos, managed to put together a fairly complete picture of where he lived. On arriving outside his house, I was immediately struck by how tackily large it was, and the same was true of the two Range Rovers sitting outside. Glancing through the window, I could see him sitting across from his wife, who was also very attractive, with a very nice face – again, all rather obvious. After clinking their wine glasses, they began tucking into a homemade spaghetti bolognese that clearly contained too much tomato sauce. This man had no taste or class and was in no position to pass any kind of judgement on my writing, let alone receive an ounce of my mental energy, I chuckled to myself on the train home.
24 Sep 2024:
I am currently sitting in a cafe, handwriting today’s diary entry in my leather Moleskine notebook. I can tell that the staff and other customers are deeply intrigued by me. Who is this man? They must be thinking. What is he writing? What tome is he working on? How novel it is, in today’s world of smartphones, laptops and VR headsets, to see someone engaged in the humble yet noble art of putting pen to paper. Indeed, with my impassioned penmanship punctuated only by brief interludes in which I gaze at the ceiling while pulling my Resting Writer Face, they can surely be under no illusion that I am anything but a Serious Literary Author.
UPDATE: Sure enough, the barista just approached and asked if I am a writer. “Guilty,” I said, before flashing a writerly smile, doffing my pen to her, then returning to my prose.
UPDATE: It turns out the barista had said ‘Are you alright there?’, not ‘Are you a writer?’, and simply wanted to know if I would like to order anything.
25 Sep 2024:
Today somebody referred to my newsletter as a ‘blog’. I had to laugh. My Serious Literary Diary is so much more than a blog. It is an intimate online space in which I provide a regular record of my thoughts, opinions and experiences for others to read and enjoy. Blog! Hilarious.
26 Sep 2024:
Just looked up definition of ‘Blog’:
An intimate online space in which the blogger provides a regular record of his or her thoughts, opinions and experiences for others to read and enjoy.
Am troubled.
If you are enjoying my Serious Literary Diary, I would be humbled if you would consider buying me a coffee, to help me continue this important work.
27 Sep 2024:
Today I attended a funeral. This is an occasion to which I am well suited; as a Serious Literary Author, I naturally exude the required gravity and solemnity. I did, however, almost make a slip-up today. When the waiter came to take dessert orders during the post-service lunch, instead of Sticky Toffee Pudding, I accidentally asked for ‘Stiffy Tockee Pudding’. I was momentarily mortified. Not only did my accidental spoonerism risk injecting humour into the proceedings, but it also threatened to undermine my position as a man of words. Thankfully, I managed to swiftly and skilfully rectify the situation by insisting that Stiffy Tockee Pudding is a traditional Japanese dessert. When the waiter told me this was not on the menu, I gave a mournful bow and ‘konnichiwa’, then ordered the profiteroles.
28 Sep 2024:
Today I thought of an idea for a novel. I was delighted. I have been trying for a story for months, and finally one had arrived. I called my close friends and family to share the good news. I couldn’t believe their response. There were no tears of joy; not even a single ‘congratulations’. The best most could muster was a feeble ‘cool’ or ‘that’s great’. I was shocked and appalled. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised this is a problem that runs deep in our society. Where is the section for expecting authors in greeting card shops? Where is the paid writernity leave? The genre reveal parties? The story showers? All too often, the rights and needs of authors are forgotten and ignored.
29 Sep 2024:
I have been working on my new spy novel featuring Secret Agent Luke Warm. I am particularly proud of the following passage, which explains the colour coding system of The Chief’s office door in a light, dexterous and entertaining fashion:
The light above The Chief’s door suddenly changed from red to green. This clever colour coding system dictated whether anybody was permitted to enter; red meaning ‘no entry’ and green meaning ‘enter’. The person standing outside the door, not knowing whether The Chief was ready to see them or not, would look at the light above the door. If it was red, they would know that The Chief was not ready to see them. If it was green, they would know that he was ready to see them. In the latter instance, since the green light meant that The Chief was ready to see them, the person standing outside the door would then open the door and enter The Chief’s office. If, however, it was red, they would instead need to wait for it to turn green. Noting that the light had just turned green, which meant that The Chief was ready to see him, Warm opened the door and entered The Chief’s office.
The algorithm and Taylor Swift brought me here. This is hilarious! Shedding tears of mirth to generalised puzzlement in the London tube.
Brilliant! I especially like the concise way you describe the red and green lights- so novel (ha, see what I did there? Novel?).