The Butcher's Boy

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It used to be that the quickest way for me to descend into a creative depression would be for someone to approach me and identify him- or herself as a fan of my work, but to then add the dreadful line “But your first one is still my favorite.”

It didn’t matter if the approach was in person at a bookstore or on the street, or through the U.S. mail or the Internet. I always took it very badly, and the compliment would serve to make me question what I was doing. This of course was completely unknown to the cheerful giver of the supposed compliment, because I was always able to maintain a frozen smile or the distance of mail, electronic or otherwise.

There was a time when I would actually respond, hoping to dissuade the reader of his or her own words, saying things like “That’s impossible!” or “You don’t really mean that!” But I soon realized it wasn’t impossible and they did really mean it.

And that is the source of the depression; that’s the rub. Writing, whether you consider it a craft or an art or both, is something that should get better with practice. It stands to reason. Writing comes from experience, curiosity, and knowledge. In short, it comes from life. The writer must improve with age and experience and life. So too the writing. Therefore, if I were to accept the compliment of the reader, wouldn’t I be accepting the decline of my work? As of this writing, I have published twelve novels. If my best work was my first, what am I doing here?

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