I'm very flattered indeed by the invitation to join the writers' group. The genuineness of my gratitude makes me all the more anxious that no one misunderstand my reservations about the whole enterprise. In the past, I've been acquainted with one or two established writers, some of them even quite celebrated in their time. They treated me with the kind of generosity I imagine older gypsies tend show to younger members of the tribe - where best to pitch your tent, who are the good touches in the neighbourhood, which police districts to avoid, & so on. That is, they said nice things about my stuff, told me which publishers to avoid, who were the best agents to go for, what were the prospects for foreign rights. That kind of thing. By & large, though, they didn't give advice about the writing itself or offer serious critiques of it. And that suited me fine. I didn't want to write like them. I wanted to write like the absolutely inimitable R.M.Bowman. I knew only too well where I hadn't managed to do what I'd intended. I already had a fair idea what I'd try next time. What I really needed to be told was: Yes, I had the real stuff.... It was only a matter of time.... Keep at it.... They'd gone through the same uncertainties but if you never, never, never surrendered it all came right in the end.... If a writer has forged ahead into greater literary success than yourself he'll tend to encourage you in the role of disciple. And if you're on a roughly equal footing, he'll see you as a threat & will probably try - hopefully unconsciously - to undermine you. If you've fallen behind in the race, his guilt will be such that he'll try to escape the contamination of failure by avoiding all contact. There really is no company in writing. We all seek it, of course. We remember the warmth of the herd. But whenever we engage in other pursuits - like contributing to this list - we're actually wasting time, sharpening pencils & putting off the horrible moment when we must sit down & do the one thing we're meant to be doing - surely one of the most futile & arduous activities known to man. Scottie B.