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We Can't All Be Astronauts: Your Friends are Successes. You're a Failure. One Last Chance to Follow Your Dreams...
'"Right!" My Dad slammed his fist against the dashboard. "If you want to die let's f***ing die together!"
"Dad...don't," I said, referring to the profanity rather than the death-threat.
But my father was lost in his own private Thelma and Louise moment. His sleep-deprived eyes were like ping-pong ball halves. His heel hit the accelerator...'
Tim Clare had always dreamed of greatness. Of writing a critically-acclaimed bestseller and quitting the rat-race of everyday life. The problem was that his friends had got there first and he was... well... nowhere. Seething with envy, single and still living with his parents, he decided to have one last shot at getting his masterpiece published. After all, things couldn't get any worse. Could they?
From grovelling shamelessly to Jeffrey Archer on a reality TV show to a fraught encounter with The Most Powerful Woman in Publishing, a spectacular mental breakdown to an excruciating suicide pact moment with his dad, Tim soon finds the answer is a resounding 'yes'...
"Dad...don't," I said, referring to the profanity rather than the death-threat.
But my father was lost in his own private Thelma and Louise moment. His sleep-deprived eyes were like ping-pong ball halves. His heel hit the accelerator...'
Tim Clare had always dreamed of greatness. Of writing a critically-acclaimed bestseller and quitting the rat-race of everyday life. The problem was that his friends had got there first and he was... well... nowhere. Seething with envy, single and still living with his parents, he decided to have one last shot at getting his masterpiece published. After all, things couldn't get any worse. Could they?
From grovelling shamelessly to Jeffrey Archer on a reality TV show to a fraught encounter with The Most Powerful Woman in Publishing, a spectacular mental breakdown to an excruciating suicide pact moment with his dad, Tim soon finds the answer is a resounding 'yes'...
- GenresNonfiction
320 pages, Paperback
First published July 14, 2009
3 people are currently reading
68 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
September 30, 2011
Divisive: I loved it, but I related a little too much
Halfway through reading this autobiographical book I raved about it to a friend: “It’s all about this writer – he went to my uni – he did my course – and he’d always decided he was going to write a best-seller – but then his mates got published and he didn’t – and he had a breakdown – nearly killed himself – but then he wrote a book about it -"
“…he sounds like a dick,” said my friend.
“No, no – it’s funny – he gets away with it – and it’s all bitter – and funny and –”
“He sounds like a dick,” she repeated.
To try to win her around I made her watch him doing some spoken word stuff on YouTube. Surely this would convert her?: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGpb-I... At the opening sections where Mr. Clare spilt his guts; my friend just cringed. As he got shouty and angry and I laughed; my friend recoiled.
So, on the basis of this field test of one: I’d say how much you like this book is directly linked to how much tolerance you have for writers and their angst, and for people expressing the less pleasant emotions. Use the link above as a quick litmus test yourself. Try before you buy. Personally I loved the clip and I loved the book.
Yes, it’s self-indulgent, but he does it well – and with enough self-awareness that (I think) he easily gets away with it. You could draw a graph with an X axis labeled ‘Quality of Writing’ and a Y axis labeled ‘How Close to the Bone You Can Get Before it’s Crap/Embarrassing’ and the line of best fit would be a direct positive correlation. Tim Clare is clearly very far along on both axes, and coming from a worse writer this would be dire, but as it is: this had me laughing out loud frequently.
He is scathingly honest about both being full of himself and also about being socially awkward. He is quite happy to admit to envy, anger, bitterness, and various other less pleasant emotions. When his mates leap from success to success, Tim Clare is theoretically pleased for them, but mostly just destroyed that he hasn’t managed it yet himself. And having been through the same UEA machine with a lot of good writers and a lot of egos; it rang extra-true.
Also, as someone who’s done their fair share of internships and attempted schmoozing to get into the publishing industry, I grinned a little too widely at his description of being inside the belly of the London Book Fair. I, too, went along with no real idea what I was doing, wasn’t sure what to put on my nametag, and wound up talking to a perfectly pleasant – yet slightly deranged – would-be author at one of the little café/bars. (I never wound up drinking with Zadie Smith afterwards, though. Maybe next time.)
For those even slightly interested in the publishing industry I’d recommend it highly – Mr. Clare certainly blags a lot of prime introductions, and it’s a very interesting (if informal and slap-dash) run through quite a few different sections of the industry. I’d also suggest it for those who either are, or feel like indulging, angsty, tortured, funny, bitter creative-types. And you should indulge us because we’re – y’know – smarter, funnier and deeper than the average person. Our sexual prowess is greater, and if you’re really nice to us we might namecheck you in something we write.
However, if you have rose-tinted glasses about the world, or a low-tolerance for self-indulgence; I’d say avoid it. Personally, I loved it.
Halfway through reading this autobiographical book I raved about it to a friend: “It’s all about this writer – he went to my uni – he did my course – and he’d always decided he was going to write a best-seller – but then his mates got published and he didn’t – and he had a breakdown – nearly killed himself – but then he wrote a book about it -"
“…he sounds like a dick,” said my friend.
“No, no – it’s funny – he gets away with it – and it’s all bitter – and funny and –”
“He sounds like a dick,” she repeated.
To try to win her around I made her watch him doing some spoken word stuff on YouTube. Surely this would convert her?: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGpb-I... At the opening sections where Mr. Clare spilt his guts; my friend just cringed. As he got shouty and angry and I laughed; my friend recoiled.
So, on the basis of this field test of one: I’d say how much you like this book is directly linked to how much tolerance you have for writers and their angst, and for people expressing the less pleasant emotions. Use the link above as a quick litmus test yourself. Try before you buy. Personally I loved the clip and I loved the book.
Yes, it’s self-indulgent, but he does it well – and with enough self-awareness that (I think) he easily gets away with it. You could draw a graph with an X axis labeled ‘Quality of Writing’ and a Y axis labeled ‘How Close to the Bone You Can Get Before it’s Crap/Embarrassing’ and the line of best fit would be a direct positive correlation. Tim Clare is clearly very far along on both axes, and coming from a worse writer this would be dire, but as it is: this had me laughing out loud frequently.
He is scathingly honest about both being full of himself and also about being socially awkward. He is quite happy to admit to envy, anger, bitterness, and various other less pleasant emotions. When his mates leap from success to success, Tim Clare is theoretically pleased for them, but mostly just destroyed that he hasn’t managed it yet himself. And having been through the same UEA machine with a lot of good writers and a lot of egos; it rang extra-true.
Also, as someone who’s done their fair share of internships and attempted schmoozing to get into the publishing industry, I grinned a little too widely at his description of being inside the belly of the London Book Fair. I, too, went along with no real idea what I was doing, wasn’t sure what to put on my nametag, and wound up talking to a perfectly pleasant – yet slightly deranged – would-be author at one of the little café/bars. (I never wound up drinking with Zadie Smith afterwards, though. Maybe next time.)
For those even slightly interested in the publishing industry I’d recommend it highly – Mr. Clare certainly blags a lot of prime introductions, and it’s a very interesting (if informal and slap-dash) run through quite a few different sections of the industry. I’d also suggest it for those who either are, or feel like indulging, angsty, tortured, funny, bitter creative-types. And you should indulge us because we’re – y’know – smarter, funnier and deeper than the average person. Our sexual prowess is greater, and if you’re really nice to us we might namecheck you in something we write.
However, if you have rose-tinted glasses about the world, or a low-tolerance for self-indulgence; I’d say avoid it. Personally, I loved it.
June 28, 2014
Stand up poet Tim Clare kept failing to get a book deal for his novel, so he got a book deal instead for this memoir about how he kept failing to get a book deal for his novel and learned a few lessons along the way. A bit rambling, not a lot happens, but an easy, warm-hearted read.
October 21, 2025
I really enjoyed this, and I'm glad to say it didn't put me off pursuing my dream.
March 28, 2016
This is a book of its time. That is to say, we seem to be more focussed on ‘success’ than we ever have been, I think. More oddly, we’re still fixated on the publishing dream: Harry Potter sales, film rights, endless riches and fame – even though the business of even finding moderate success as a novelist is less likely than ever before. So the business of dealing with illusion and facing the facts – there’s a lot to be said for that.
Tim Clare’s book about his failure to make it as a writer, while all (yes, all) his friends are leaping into lucrative book deals, is therefore something that plays to an obvious sympathetic readership. It is also entertaining (I didn’t find it actually funny, though some readers might find it more chuckle-worthy than me). Most importantly, it’s written in an accessible, easy-to-read way. You can pick it up and relax with it. A good holiday read. No great brain strain, though I would have liked a little more of that last element.
There is a story. It’s very simple. The author was talented. His aspirations crashed. He got seriously depressed, a depression exacerbated by the success of his writer friends (something that also plays to an age when envy at the success of others fuels scores of social media spats each week). He wallowed. He did various more or less silly things to establish himself as a writer. It’s no surprise (nor a spoiler since each reader is holding his BOOK in their hand) that he emerges from ignominy into success.
So I quite enjoyed it. It mocks a world I know well. I wouldn’t recommend following in his footsteps though.
Downsides: I found it very boy-oriented. All the author’s writer friends appear to be male. He goes to pubs and plays pool and gets drunk, which is what boys do. He confides in his dad. He fulfils his grandfather’s aspirations.
Women? His girlfriend leaves him. His mum hovers in the background and feeds him and almost certainly washes his socks. She doesn't get to say much. She is a stereotyped mum, though I bet in real life she's a whole person. The woman he regards as the most powerful woman in publishing plays a key role [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanda_...] and Tim finally interviews her, after a series of emails that made me squirm with embarrassment on his behalf and worry about her judgment since she does agree to talk to him.
So if the book is about struggling with your own sense of failure when all your friends are succeeding as writers (succeeding as a writer has little to do with writing here and everything to do with landing a book contract and selling the film rights), it’s ironic that its author turns out to be one more of the top boys, leaving the reader stuck with the failure role. What has he learned, precisely? His dying grandfather speaks the central message: ‘Keep your ambition. Just don’t let it rule you.’
Okay. Right then.
Still, I guess it’s an earned dictum, in the sense that you have to read the whole book to experience it as true. And while you’re reading the whole book, you’re smiling at the high-jinks and thinking ‘I’d ever do THAT. And did he REALLY do THAT? And omigod!!’
The author and central character gets seriously depressed in this book. But it doesn’t feel serious. It turns out to be a sort of stand-up joke as well, and though he name-checks Matt Haig at one point (who wrote Reasons to Stay Alive and really does give insight into what life crisis is like) this book is simply not in that territory.
Has Tim Clare achieved success at the end? And are his friends as successful as he thinks they are? Maybe it depends how you measure success. A number of writers get reasonably lucrative first book deals. The second book is harder. A lifetime as a writer is hardest of all.
So he can write. He can write. All he needs to do at the end of the book is keep doing it while finding a bit of a day job, like teaching other people how to do it, like other writers. He published a novel in 2015. Still a way to go. As the Princess Saralinda keeps saying in The 13 Clocks, I wish him well.
Tim Clare’s book about his failure to make it as a writer, while all (yes, all) his friends are leaping into lucrative book deals, is therefore something that plays to an obvious sympathetic readership. It is also entertaining (I didn’t find it actually funny, though some readers might find it more chuckle-worthy than me). Most importantly, it’s written in an accessible, easy-to-read way. You can pick it up and relax with it. A good holiday read. No great brain strain, though I would have liked a little more of that last element.
There is a story. It’s very simple. The author was talented. His aspirations crashed. He got seriously depressed, a depression exacerbated by the success of his writer friends (something that also plays to an age when envy at the success of others fuels scores of social media spats each week). He wallowed. He did various more or less silly things to establish himself as a writer. It’s no surprise (nor a spoiler since each reader is holding his BOOK in their hand) that he emerges from ignominy into success.
So I quite enjoyed it. It mocks a world I know well. I wouldn’t recommend following in his footsteps though.
Downsides: I found it very boy-oriented. All the author’s writer friends appear to be male. He goes to pubs and plays pool and gets drunk, which is what boys do. He confides in his dad. He fulfils his grandfather’s aspirations.
Women? His girlfriend leaves him. His mum hovers in the background and feeds him and almost certainly washes his socks. She doesn't get to say much. She is a stereotyped mum, though I bet in real life she's a whole person. The woman he regards as the most powerful woman in publishing plays a key role [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanda_...] and Tim finally interviews her, after a series of emails that made me squirm with embarrassment on his behalf and worry about her judgment since she does agree to talk to him.
So if the book is about struggling with your own sense of failure when all your friends are succeeding as writers (succeeding as a writer has little to do with writing here and everything to do with landing a book contract and selling the film rights), it’s ironic that its author turns out to be one more of the top boys, leaving the reader stuck with the failure role. What has he learned, precisely? His dying grandfather speaks the central message: ‘Keep your ambition. Just don’t let it rule you.’
Okay. Right then.
Still, I guess it’s an earned dictum, in the sense that you have to read the whole book to experience it as true. And while you’re reading the whole book, you’re smiling at the high-jinks and thinking ‘I’d ever do THAT. And did he REALLY do THAT? And omigod!!’
The author and central character gets seriously depressed in this book. But it doesn’t feel serious. It turns out to be a sort of stand-up joke as well, and though he name-checks Matt Haig at one point (who wrote Reasons to Stay Alive and really does give insight into what life crisis is like) this book is simply not in that territory.
Has Tim Clare achieved success at the end? And are his friends as successful as he thinks they are? Maybe it depends how you measure success. A number of writers get reasonably lucrative first book deals. The second book is harder. A lifetime as a writer is hardest of all.
So he can write. He can write. All he needs to do at the end of the book is keep doing it while finding a bit of a day job, like teaching other people how to do it, like other writers. He published a novel in 2015. Still a way to go. As the Princess Saralinda keeps saying in The 13 Clocks, I wish him well.
March 16, 2017
some moments were very heartfelt and enjoyable but overall wasn't my thing
March 19, 2014
The whole premise of this memoir is that unlike his friends, Tim Clare doesn't have the talent and drive to be a best-selling author - and unfortunately the book does rather back that up. It would have made a great magazine article, but stretched to 300-plus pages it's overlong, repetitive and underwhelming. It's a book I endured rather than enjoyed.
September 21, 2009
I feel ill.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews