Frederick Forsyth and I have quite a lot in common, including nationality, gender, birthday (we were both born on August 25, for those of you who prefer giving to receiving,) occupation and Rolex watches. The latter of these because he has one and I don’t; and the reason I don’t have one is because he does.
Am I going too fast? Okay, pour yourself a glass of wine, and I’ll explain how Frederick Forsyth robbed me of my dream to become the proud owner of a Rolex Oyster.
It was a dark and stormy night…
Oops! No, it wasn’t. Let’s start again.
I have always been an avid reader of the news (that’s better!) and in addition to having read the newspaper from cover to cover since the age of about twelve onwards, I have also regularly read the Time magazine from about seventeen years old. One day (I must have been about nineteen at the time,) I opened the Time mag. and found myself staring at a double-page ad for Rolex watches. Featured in this ad was my hero, Mr. Forsyth, looking extremely elegant in a well-tailored suit with a beautiful, gold Rolex Oyster peeking coyly from his sleeve.
I was smitten!
I wanted one!
But, I didn’t just want one; I wanted one on the same terms as Mr. Forsyth.
I decided then and there that the moment my first book was published I would treat myself to a Rolex watch, and I nurtured this objective as a motivating force for the subsequent twenty-three years; never once doubting that I would eventually get published. And then, finally, at the age of forty-two, my first published book, a suspense novel, was distributed to the bookstores.
Hallelujah!
My first reaction was to grab my credit card and rush to the nearest Rolex merchant, but before I even got as far as the front door I began to reconsider. Was it fair to consider myself an equal to the eminent Frederick Forsyth? All I had done, after all, was simply set the first foot on the same path. Wasn’t placing myself on the same pedestal a shade presumptuous?
Yes, it bloody-well was, I decided.
So, I upgraded my objective. When I first saw the ad in the Time magazine, Mr. Forsyth had just released his fourth book, The Dogs of War, so I decided that I would postpone my purchase until I, too, had published four books. Surely that would mean the publishers had confidence in me and I could consider myself a real writer on par with my hero, wouldn’t it? Then—and only then—could I wear the watch safe in the knowledge that I had earned it.
It took nearly six years for my fourth book to see the light of day. And, not only did it see the light of day, it even went into a second print-run before it hit the bookstores on pre-orders alone!
I’d done it! I was a successful writer…! With a self-satisfied smirk on my face I began fingering my credit card.
And that’s when those old, familiar misgivings began to set in.
Did I really think I was in Frederick Forsyth’s class?
No…
Would I really be able to look at myself in the mirror knowing I had presumptuously equated myself to the master of the genre?
No…
Wasn’t even considering such a purchase somewhat narcissistic?
Yes…
Two weeks ago I published my fifty-second book, and I still don’t own a Rolex.
And so, Rolex SA and all of your proud and dedicated employees, I extend to you my apologies. As much as I covet one of your beautiful pieces of machinery, they must remain at the pinnacle of everything I stand for today as a symbol of motivation, and I just cannot bring myself to purchase one. If you want somebody to blame, I suggest you call Mr. Forsyth.
The Rolex Oyster; my Holy Grail.
Chris,
Delightful! I love your writing, although most of it is in a language I don’t speak, write or understand. Nevertheless, your tweets are precious to me. I’m so glad we met on Twitter. Please consider me your American friend. Cordially, @Radio_Lady
Greetings!
I am thrilled I made it over here to read your words. Your story about how you still have not bought that Rolex made me chuckle a bit, since I’ve had the same experience with many things I have used to motivate myself. However, I must admit, I have never exceeded any goal to the extent you describe here! Big congratulations!
I’m thrilled to have made your acquaintance on twitter and always look forward to your tweets.
Take Care,
Rachel (aka Go-Go Rach)
Ha! I own two Omegas, but I inherited them. Not sure if I would ever own a Rolex. But I think you’re doing yourself down – Isolation was a pretty good read – not far off Mr. Forsyth’s standard.
Rolex isn’t the pinnacle, Chris – getting all those books published is the pinnacle! Anyway, everyone wears a Rolex nowadays – the kind that cost £20 from those fast talking (and even faster running, in many cases – with their cases of contraband) ‘Authorised dealers of fine fake copies’ of Rolex, amongst others. Now…….a CUCKOO clock – that would be an original and inspiring timepiece for you!
Isolation was a brilliant read – one of those books you take to bed to lull you to sleep, and the next thing you know, is the Bugle Birds are playing Reveille outside your window, and you haven’t managed to put the book down. The scenario isn’t all that hard to imagine – especially if you apply today’s present fear of H1N1, and the UK’s response to that ‘flu. Also, with two of my kids who go into retreat with their computers – yes, I can almost live that book.
Brilliant! How I have longed for the elusive Rolex, too! As royalties have started coming in from my first book, I thought I might put it towards a Rolex, but after reading of ALL your success, perhaps it is too soon, and I am lowering the bar. Things to ponder! Although, second book (first of trilogy with number 2 being completed this month) may be what pushes me closer to that goal! Keep fighting the good fight! You inspire us to reach for higher goals!
You made me smile.
I’ve never craved a physical object belonging to a hero of mine but I can understand that longing to somehow draw alongside the idol and be equal, if only for a moment.
In your case, I suspect you are a lot closer to being equal to your literary heroes than you will let yourself believe. You may even have surpassed a few.
Someone wiser than me once said, Comparisons are odious.
There is only one Christopher Belton. Imagine how many young writers out there who might feel about you what you felt about FF?