‘And do you write?’

Mia Farlane, the year Footnotes (Viking / Penguin UK Books) came out.
Photo credit: Marine Place

The juggling act of being open while preserving one’s privacy. 

As the daughter of a renowned New Zealand novelist (and the niece of a famous poet), I remember at the age of eight or nine being at a literary event, where I had to field the following question from an adult: ‘And do you write?’  I responded without answering the question – I can’t remember how I managed that, but I remember being aware of the need for a bit of privacy. 

Fast-forward a few decades, and the next question I remember fielding (during a day out at Brighton) was in connection with my first book.  It was taking me some years to finish the first draft and, unfortunately, this polite and/or inquisitive friend knew I had a ‘work-in-progress’.  I suppose you can guess what she asked: ‘How’s the book going?’  A question as anodyne as ‘how are you?’ – in other words, not anodyne.  Again, I responded without answering the question.  While remaining friendly (I hope). 

The good news was (is) that I finished the novel and it was even ‘snapped up’ (in the words of my favourite aunt) by Viking / Penguin Books UK.  I got some good reviews in major UK papers, such as The Guardian, and brilliant endorsements from authors I admire.  Wow.  It isn’t because I have a hefty literary heritage that I wasn’t stunned (and terrified).  What a learning curve.    

And learning involves making mistakes, of course.  Anyway, the next question I remember being asked (at a Penguin ‘networking event’, I suppose you’d call it) was: ‘How long did it take you to write this novel?’  And what did I say?  Despite being a fairly private person, I can sometimes slip up and be a stickler for accuracy (aka ‘TMI’ – see my piece about the fluid boundary between author and character, ‘Are You Okay : A WRITING Event’, published in 2020 by the UK literary magazine, Moxy).  So, I think I replied ‘eight years’  (or I might have shortened it to ‘seven’), followed by some quite defensive statements about how I’d been working full-time – and I’d also done a Masters in Writing that, although wonderful (for its reading list), was quite time-consuming. 

One last question worth mentioning: 

Several years later and my second novel was still not out. Who should I bump into (somewhere near Charing Cross) but someone I can’t now remember, who didn’t know me very well but knew I’d written a first novel and who had perhaps read it (or heard of it).  So, what did this person want to know?  I suppose you’ll have guessed – was I still writing? ‘Are you still writing?’  (Again, as anodyne as ‘how are you?’ – and had I been asked that question that day, I might have gone into quite some detail. If I hadn’t known that the question ‘how are you?’ is most effectively dealt with by a ‘yeah, how are you?’) In any case, I said, ‘Yes, I am still writing.’ And we moved on.

Can you relate to any of this?  I’d love to know any tricky questions you’ve been asked and perhaps how you’ve dealt with them.  You can comment using the Contact form.  Or if you join – or have already joined – the Farlane on Writing Quarterly (see sign up below) we can be in contact from there.