Writing for the Pleasure of It

Book progress this week? None. Zero. And for the first time in a while, I’m okay with that.

Published July 12, 2026, on my Substack: Writer on the Edge.

Here I am as usual, Sunday morning, though later than usual. Normally I’m dictating this around six or seven. Now it’s nearly nine, and I’ve already walked the dog. Not my normal schedule at all.

Let’s start with the book progress. None. Zero.

And worse than that, I have no motivation right now to even look at it. Which is ridiculous, I know. But I have other thoughts, other feelings, other ideas.

So I’m debating whether to ignore all that, or just set this aside for now and start something new. After all, the second draft is done. The book is written. It just needs some heavy editing and rewriting.

I say “just.” It’s more than just. It’s probably a lot more work than the first draft was, and the first draft was dictated to a large extent.

A Slow Start on Sunday morning

Two literary loves

Here’s where I am. I have two literary loves in this world.

One is where I’ve started writing my book. Two books really, one draft completed and one still just an idea, fleshed out of course. That’s dystopian science fiction, in the vein of Iain M. Banks, Neal Asher, and William Gibson to a lesser extent.

The other love, one I think I’ve grown into as I’ve got older, is literary fiction. My favorite author at the moment is Elif Shafak, the Turkish writer who now lives in Britain, though she’s lived in several places, including France, I believe. I just adore her work. It’s inspiring, and it’s very literary, if you care about genre. Which I don’t, to be honest.

And that’s the direction my thoughts have been drifting lately. More toward the literary side than genre fiction. With the best will in the world, Banks and Asher get filed under genre, which I think is unfair and a little snooty. Both are brilliant, especially Iain M. Banks, who passed away well before his proper time.

Oddly enough, I’ve never read his literary novels, the ones he wrote as Iain Banks without the M. I suspect I’d love them. That’s one of the major reading projects on the cards.

Speaking of reading, I have so many unread books, almost entirely hardback, just waiting to be devoured. And a small collection of signed first editions. Several of those are from Joanna Penn, J.F. Penn for her fiction, along with her travel memoir Pilgrimage, which I really enjoyed.

I’m not really into her fiction as such. The reason I buy the signed special editions is to support her, because I admire her, and I admire what she does for the industry and what she is to the industry. That’s the why of it.

I’ve also got several literary novels I read years ago that I’m going to dig back out. Which reminds me, the bookcase itself is closed; I can’t even see my books, and it’s full of rubbish besides. All of which can go. So I think I’m going to have a huge clear-out of my office and turn it into a reading paradise, a writing paradise, a space for every creative endeavor, whether that’s consuming or creating.

Finishing, and knowing when to stop

So that’s the news on the creative writing project. The draft is complete, and I know exactly where I need to go with the rewrite.

But now that I’ve made the decision, I have no intention of carrying on with it right now. I think I’ve just had enough of it for the moment.

Heinlein’s rule is to finish what you started. Well, I’ve finished it, as far as I’m concerned. Time for something different. Time for a refresh, because honestly, I feel the need.

I’m stifled by the thought of an obligation to finish editing and get this first book done and dusted. I don’t want to treat it like that. It should be treated as a pleasure, because that’s what it is to me.

I don’t expect to make any money from it. It would be nice, as I’ve said before, but it’s not the be-all and end-all. What matters more to me is enjoying the process. And if I’m not enjoying the process, why am I continuing with it?

I have no doubt the motivation will return sooner or later, and I’ll work on it again. I recently read a post from Jack Harmer on Substack. The man is over 80, and he writes purely for the pleasure of it. He’s not a perfectionist.

Which made me ask: am I? That’s possibly the reason I’m dropping the book for now. Because I am a bit of one. Everything has to be just so, just right, written as well as I can possibly make it. And if I’m not ready for that step, then I’ll set it aside. Not completely. Just put it to bed for a little while, and I’ll come back to it when I’m ready, and the motivation is there.

Final Thoughts

What’s the theme of this week’s newsletter? Writing for the pleasure is what matters most to me. If I don’t feel the pleasure, I’m not doing it.

Such is life.

I’ll end on this. I’m a generally positive person. The glass has always been half full for me, though some people close to me usually see it as half empty. But I’ve noticed lately that I’ve become more negative, more pessimistic, and I really don’t want to be that anymore. That’s not me.

Me is a positive person, a humanist. I care about people. I don’t much care what people think of me, but I do care about people. And that’s the way I’m going to carry on.

Until next week, take care of yourselves. Mike