'Wish you were JK Rowling?'
This is the opening line to a promo for a workshop on fantasy writing being run by a local writers' centre.
When I saw it, my initial reaction was: "Yes!"
Who wouldn't want to be JK Rowling, the world's most successful author in recent history?
But then, I thought, what would be the point of being JK Rowling if I couldn't still be me?
And do I really want to be JK Rowling, or am I only after her success and fame (and brilliant mind)?
And what is the value of these things if I haven't achieved them all by myself?
That's why questions that address the reader are so frustrating. Often there's not a straight answer.
So, no, I don't want to be JK Rowling.
I'd like to have a chat with her over a cup of Twinings English Breakfast Tea served with warm scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream (maybe we could meet for high tea at her estate) and it would be fun to have her as a critique partner.
But I don't want her fame or fortune (OK, maybe just a small portion of her fortune - enough to buy a holiday house on the south coast!).
In the cut-throat world of writing, authors have to create their own 'unique' voice in order to be read. There's only room for one JK Rowling.