The Liar

I have problems telling the truth. I know I do, because when it comes to composing a thousand words of facts and opinions on this blog, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to do so. Blogger’s block, if you will. While in the fictional world, I can turn out anything between 3-4000 words of prose without breaking a sweat.
I’m just more adept at telling lies and made-up stuff.

I can’t hide the fact that I’d rather be telling you about how London burned today, or how my major character is falling in love with the woman he vowed to protect. I want to tell you about five enigmatic warriors who have lost their way, who have lied to themselves for more than a millennium to the folly of all humanity. I want to tell you that there is a man called William Saxon who is about to lose everything he has ever loved.
I want to tell you story.

But this blog is not the place to tell it. It’s a place of truths, more than fiction. And I have two truths to say, so here they are:

The first truth, is that I’m quite confident about The Black Hours in a way that I wasn’t with The Secret War or The Hoard of Mhorrer, so when I send it to Macmillan in just over a week, I won’t be thinking “bloody hell, what if they don’t like it?” It means if they do reject it, it will be a hammer blow for sure – but I’m not going to cover this book with false modesty. I promised a truth, and here it is: The Black Hours is the best book I’ve ever written. Full stop.
We’ll see if Macmillan feels the same way…

The second truth is that good and bad reviews keep rolling in for The Secret War. In a way, the criticisms of the first book feel a little removed now. After all, the book was first published in January 2007, and I finished writing it in spring 2006, so about three years have distanced me from the novel. I’ve written two books during that time so the criticism doesn’t feel so close now. Praise, on the other hand, is something I will rush back three years for. These days I can afford to cherry pick what I listen to and read – it’s my right as the author. Who says writers can’t be arrogant and stubborn?

So there you go, I’ve managed a couple of truths. It’s the first step on the road to being a reformed compulsive liar. You see, I am a fraud. It’s what I do.
It’s my job to make things up. To spin lies and tales.

This whole telling the truth-malarky, gets a bit tiring, I can tell you…