You just need to write something that’s Good Enough.

What’s the big deal?

“You don’t need to write a great book; you just need to write a good book”

Those are the words of Barry Hutchison, aka Barry J Hutchison, aka JD Kirk, a multi million selling author of crime fiction novels.

Barry is something of an inspiration for me. I first heard about his switch from traditional publishing to indie publishing via my husband, Alex Milway, also a children's author. Barry, disillusioned with just getting by financially, despite winning many awards and publishing over 100 books, decided to try his hand at indie authorship. You can read his story here, but the short version is that he has now sold over 3 million copies of his self-published crime fiction novels and has gone from worrying about money to having his own charitable foundation and media company.

I had the privilege of watching his rise to serious success, along with a handful of other very talented ex-children's authors who have switched writing crime under pseudonyms. And Barry often speaks about his move from traditional to indie publishing, running a course for writers who may want to take the leap. One thing he is clear on is that he believes if he can do it, anyone can. After all, “you don't need to write a great book, you just need to write a good book."

Barry’s first self-published series. I really recommend the audiobooks.

Now, that is easy for him to say because Barry apparently has no idea that he’s some sort of freak of nature. He can spit out an exceptionally good book in a matter of months – weeks, even. He wrote the first Space Team book in three weeks, first thing in the morning, before he got back to his normal writing work. If I did that, I’d need to lie down for 3 months afterwards.

But that’s nothing. He can write a couple of screenplays in the downtime between publishing 6-8 books a year AND launch a new Romance pen name and a Film production company.

For a long time, I had a post-it note on my computer that read “Be More Barry,” but all it did was remind me that I am a useless layabout who gets eyestrain after a few hours at my desk. In the end, I concluded that comparison truly is the thief of joy and that it was pointless trying to be even slightly Barry. Barrying is beyond me.

Why am I telling you all this?

Well, because I really love sharing his story. And I really love passing this advice on to authors – to stop stressing and just aim to write a good book not a great book. And I really wish I could listen to that advice myself, because I don’t believe the time I waste agonising over a sentence is actually making me a better writer.

My writer friends think my interest in Barry’s crazy productivity and amazing success is borderline unhinged and I wouldn’t be surprised if they stage some sort of intervention soon. But honestly, isn’t it inspiring? Isn’t it nice to hear about writers having massive success in spite of all these doom and gloom pieces about how no one buys books¹?

A while ago, Barry and his similarly successful chums stopped posting their amazing sales figures in the secret Facebook group. I really miss those halcyon days of seeing truly talented people finally getting their deliciously just desserts (the good sort). Of hearing Gordy (aka Alex Smith) talking about how he went from totally skint to raking it in by writing heartwarming single-dad-of-daughters stories masquerading as police procedurals. Of seeing David Gatward going from stressed out publisher (and ghostwriter) to happy creator of cheese-and-cake-based Yorkshire crime novels. There are more success stories I could mention, but it’s time for me to stop stalking and start writing.

After all, to paraphrase the great Barry, I don’t need to write a great book, I just need to finish the three I’m still titting about with.

PS. It is not my intention to make this a newsletter about writing, but after the lovely response to my being boring newsletter, I am embracing the feedback. That is to say, I am writing about things that interest me. And Barry and the gang interest me very much. Some might say too much. But until the court injunction, I’ll keep peering in at their virtual windows.

Mystery dog illness and a crochet jumper

My dog, Aggy, decided to keel over and act like she was dying this week...

She went from being a healthy, crazy, miniature schnauzer, cheerful and saying hello to everyone she met, to collapsed on the sofa like a sad little woodlouse curved into a ball, unable to make proper eye contact.

The vet announced she had a heart murmur which seemed strange given she'd had a check-up two weeks before and been given a clean bill of health. A few days after the diagnosis, having spent two days lying inert on the sofa she was running around again like nothing had happened and her blood results had come back to say she didn't have a heart problem at all. So we're none the wiser.

It was strange going from her having her wilting like a dying flower one day to dragging me on the lead when I took her for what I imagined would be a short and calm walk just a couple of days after.

Anyway, we keep telling her not to scare us like that again, but unfortunately we’re pretty sure she doesn’t speak English.

While I’m here, I should also add that I made that crochet jumper I’m wearing in the photo. Despite having written many times about how I believe crochet is strictly for blankets, hats and amigurumi, I saw Sam Ryder’s crochet cardigans and something happened to my brain. Now my Instagram search page just throws up millions of Gen Zers in rainbow-coloured crochet jumpers and I am here for it. Yes, I might look insane, but Jenny Joseph and Sam Ryder and would approve and that’s good enough for me.

Thanks to Iron Lamb for a brilliant pattern, and to my neighbour, an ex-knitwear designer, for the stash of alpaca Rowan yarn that would otherwise have cost me about 4 billion pounds.

1. If you’re seeing this piece for the first time, please take heart in the fact that it’s really not true.