Wished I'd seen this - I know, I know, 2 Guardian links on one page, what sort of curmudgeon is this then? Less random ranting, more wimpy bleeding heart liberal. Hey ho, guilty as charged.

Anyway, maybe if the guy had just blogged his third novel he could have saved himself some angst. Someone somewhere would have told him it was rubbish without him having to go through the publisher rejection seven times.

I held a fond delusion for 15 years that I was an author waiting to be discovered, and I can tell you, it was a blessed relief to cast it off. Don't get me wrong, I love writing and when my life becomes less hectic, I may well turn my hand to it again. But I shan't go through the humiliation of submitting to the slush piles for some literary lovey to read a couple of lines and tell me it's a pile of cack, if they bother to tell me anything at all. Ho no. It's publishing in blogworld for me, and if no one ever reads it, that's fine by me.

You just have to let your fond fantasies go at some stage.

Years ago I played guitar in a band. As well as being a best selling author I was going to be a rock superstar, too. Well, the band were pretty crap and after a couple of years we went our separate ways, although I did keep in touch with the lead singer. He'd been mate from school and we'd been drinking friends before the band. I tell you, he never gave up the dream. He's now 45, and although I've not seen him for a while, I'm sure he's still cutting demos in his front room. With wife and kids to support, he lived his life as if writing songs and making demos were his main job. I couldn't see him without him badgering me to play on his next demo, which was going to be the one like, because he'd had some interest from this A&R guy in Spain.

The thing is, he wrote some decent songs, had a way with words in his lyrics and is an intelligent, funny guy. He could have done somehing else with his life and been successful, too.

As it is, he's a sad twat.