So after reading this piece on the literary Minot family squabbling over their family history, I have to say... One thing my siblings and I have never fought about is who's going to write the family novel. I have to say, and I'm not trying to brag, that it has always been me.
It's not like my siblings are book-allergic; they all read in various quantities, from fantasy series to THE KNOW-IT-ALL, from sports almanacs to PREP. But I've never seen them show much interest in writing fiction. Claire keeps (or kept) a diary, but I can hardly describe that as fiction. (Not that I've read it, dear.) I was that writing kid. And from the NYT piece, I suppose I ought to count my blessings that we didn't end up like the Brontes.
The only really serious contender in my family for the title of Novelist is my mum, ever since her writing career took off.* Mum probably reads more novels than me during the year (or at least she has been while I've been in school), but I've never heard of her wanting to write one. So, rough life for me! No competition.
*And when I say "took off," I mean: Mum quit working in 1990 when she learned she was pregnant with her third AND fourth children, and picked up 12 years later as a financial writer and editor. She's quite good, too, and it's only through marvelously bad luck that neither of her major book projects have gotten to print yet. But that's another story.
4 hours ago