The Lie of the Lone Wolf

And what can happen when we start to see through it

Of all the false myths peddled in our culture, one of the most pervasive and destructive is that of the Lone Wolf. We lionise this figure as the solitary gunslinger or the maverick detective or the singular genius. We pride ourselves when we “go it alone,” and are told to “stand on our own two feet.”

In my first career, as a journalist on Fleet Street, whenever reporters gathered at the scene of a crime or some event, we were referred to as a “press pack.” But we weren’t really a pack. Each one of us would betray the others in an instant if it meant we were the one who got the scoop. It was every animal for themselves. Our editors even pitted reporters from the same newspaper against one another, heightening the sense of “winner takes all.”

Image courtesy of ArtTower from Pixabay

When I started writing fiction I went at it with the same attitude. I locked myself away to write. And I didn’t show a soul what I had written or talk about what I was writing until the manuscript was complete.

At first this worked fine. I secured an agent, then signed a deal for a series of novels. The first book, Shadow of the Wolf, was duly published. So far, there was nothing to disabuse me of the idea that I was right to plough my own furrow.

True, I now had an agent and editors, but I didn’t interact with them much; mostly I shut myself away and wrote and wrote. And this was okay, while it was going well…

But then came the day when it wasn’t.

My follow-up novel, Dark Fire, was causing me huge trouble. I was overthinking, endlessly rewriting, and getting ever more lost in a maze of my own making. I went in circles for months on end.

But I kept all this to myself. I sent signals out to my publisher and agent not to worry – I might be behind schedule but I was making progress. Then I went back to thrashing around inside my maze, convinced I could find my own way out.

Because I had thoroughly assimilated the myth of the lone wolf. And the lone wolf doesn’t show weakness or admit they can’t cope. There is nothing they can’t face by themselves. They don’t need to rely on anybody else.

But all this is a lie. A lie concocted by an individualistic, archly competitive society. Neither wolves nor human beings are designed to survive, let alone thrive, all on their own. None of us would have lived through our first years on Earth if it weren’t for the constant attention of caregivers. This reliance on others doesn’t go away when we become adults; it just becomes less obvious – to the extent that we can easily fool ourselves into thinking we can cope all by ourselves.

In my case, as I strove to write my second novel, I kept up the pretence for a long time. But at last I reached breaking point. With a degree of shame, but also a sigh of relief, I finally and fully admitted I would never finish this novel on my own.

Thankfully, help was at hand. The moment I opened the door, my publisher David Fickling Books rallied to my aid. I started working with a new editor, Anthony Hinton. Together, we took apart Dark Fire to see what we could keep and what should be jettisoned. In the end, beyond some key scenes, we threw most of it away. I sat down to start writing again from page one.

Only this time I didn’t go it alone. Whenever I finished a few chapters, I’d send them to Anthony. Sometimes he would return some notes or suggestions. But looking back, I see now that Anthony didn’t actually do all that much during this drafting phase. He certainly didn’t offer any detailed critiques. I’m sure he quite wisely understood this would risk plunging me back into that maze of overthinking and doubts.

Mostly, the message I received back from Anthony was “keep going.” Sometimes he didn’t even need to say that much. It was enough, I think, just knowing he was there waiting for the next tranche of the story. That I had a true ally at my side.

I’m reminded of a psychological experiment in which subjects are stood at the foot of a hill and asked to estimate the distance to the summit. Invariably, the subject judges the hill to be less high if they have another person standing alongside them. This person needn’t be a friend. The subject is never told that the other person will help them in any way. When faced with a steep climb, it is apparently enough to boost morale simply to know that another human being is there.

So it was with me. Now that Anthony was on hand to offer support and encouragement, I increasingly found I didn’t need it. I wrote longer and longer sections of the novel without needing to send them to him.

Soon enough Dark Fire was finished. I went straight on to write another sequel, Wildwood Rising. The second book was published last month, and the third is due out in May next year. Meanwhile, I’ve also ghostwritten a fantasy novel.

This creative revival would not have been possible without the aid of a great many people. Not only Anthony, but also the rest of the team at David Fickling Books, as well as my agent, James Wills. Friends and family have responded to my new openness by providing practical help, guidance, and morale support.

This newsletter also exists thanks to other people. Fraser Hutchinson, head of marketing for my publisher, gently suggested I give it a try in the first place. At first I had no readers and no idea what I was doing. But then I connected with newsletter expert

Simon K Jones

, who showed me the ropes. Many other readers and writers on here, including

David McIlroy

,

Claudia Befu

, and

Graham Strong

, have offered me their time, guidance, and encouragement. Now I’m publishing here regularly and slowly, slowly, building something that feels worthwhile.

More than anything, it seems to me, a platform like Substack can foster a sense that we’re not struggling out here all alone. That there are potential allies everywhere. This is a very empowering idea, which can feed directly back into our creative work.

I remind myself: keep reaching out for connection, you never know what might happen. A little while ago, I looked up illustrator Richard Collingridge. Although Richard drew the hardback cover for my first novel, Shadow of the Wolf, he and I had never had any direct contact.

I messaged to tell him how much I loved his cover design. Richard’s response was amazing. He told me that of all the books he had ever illustrated Shadow of the Wolf has been his favourite. He said he’d be delighted if we could team up in some way in the future.

After an email exchange, we had a video call in which we chatted about book design and Studio Ghibli and airships and dragons and jetpacks. It turns out we have many interests in common.

The upshot is that Richard and I are now planning to work together on a joint project. The idea we have in mind is VERY exciting. I’ll be posting more about it in this newsletter very soon.

In the meantime, thanks for being here, and warmest wishes,

Tim

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P.S. Earlier this week, the aforementioned

David McIlroy

posted an article on a similar subject:

Why is community so crucial for writers?

P.P.S: Congratulations to Substacker

Faenon

on the arrival of his novel, Fire and Lightning, which looks ace!