David Cuen

I’m happy when a story forms in my head, one I immediately recognise as a great idea. My eyes must spark when the outline finally clicks into place, when I have a compass to guide the journey. And once I start typing — oh man, that’s one of the best feelings in the world.

For many, typing The End is a pinnacle of exhilaration. Not for me. It gives me anxiety. Because now I have to read it and realise it’s not as great as I hoped. I know I’ll need to sit down again and reshape it. More crucially, I’ll show it to my first reader (my wife), who will break my heart with the best of intentions: honesty.

So, is the writer finally happy after all the revisions, the edits, the beta readers’ feedback, the editor’s structural notes? After finishing the eighth or ninth draft, or whatever version finally feels finished?

Probably not.

Because then comes the research. Time to hunt for literary agents who might be a good fit. Time to query. After assembling the best opening 10,000 words, a compelling synopsis, and a short but unforgettable agent letter, it’s time to face rejection. The stats don’t lie: the writer will receive more rejections than requests.

But let’s say this particular writer is lucky. They find a great agent. Are they happy now? Yes, for a moment. Then come more revisions, shaping the manuscript until it’s ready to submit to editors. Submission begins, and it can be just as bruising as the first-reader feedback. And it can take months.

Let’s stay optimistic. An editor loves the manuscript. The writer is happy. Temporarily. Then comes another round of edits, until draft number twenty-five is done. The book gets a publication date. Is the writer happy now? Of course. But there’s little time to enjoy it. Marketing begins. Promotion. Publicity. More deadlines.

When the book is printed, published, and on shelves, the writer might feel happy — if sales are good. Or disappointed, if they’re not. But we’re being optimistic, aren’t we? The book hits a bestseller list. The writer is euphoric.

For a bit.

Then comes the tour. The interviews. The pressure. The emails. The fatigue. And no time to write the next book.

So maybe the writer is happiest when they’re back at the desk, typing the first words of the next story. Because that moment — that quiet, hopeful beginning — is the most lasting kind of joy.

There’s nothing better than writing.

There’s nothing more permanent.

Everything else is fleeting.