"I sometimes wonder what would've happened if I'd entered the competition instead - I'd probably have come nowhere and given up on the whole fiction game"
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Self-deprecation is doing double duty here: it softens the ego that inevitably clings to a writing career, and it quietly indicts the machinery that decides who gets to feel like a “real” author in the first place. Paul Kane’s imagined alternate timeline hinges on a competition he didn’t enter, a fork in the road where external validation becomes the gatekeeper of persistence. The joke is that he “probably” would’ve failed and then “given up,” but the sting is how plausible that spiral is.
The line is built on a sly inversion of the success myth. We’re trained to treat contests, prizes, and shortlists as meritocracy in miniature - pure signal in a noisy world. Kane nudges at the darker truth: these systems don’t just reward talent; they shape it by determining who keeps going long enough to get good. “Come nowhere” isn’t only about ranking; it’s about being rendered invisible. “The whole fiction game” frames writing as a rigged arena rather than a calling, suggesting that what looks like individual grit is often a relationship with institutions that confer momentum.
There’s also survivor’s perspective baked in. Because Kane didn’t take that path, he can afford to laugh at it. The humility reads as genuine, but it’s also a subtle flex: he endured without that particular stamp of approval. The intent isn’t to romanticize struggle; it’s to expose how easily a single discouraging data point can rewrite a writer’s identity.
The line is built on a sly inversion of the success myth. We’re trained to treat contests, prizes, and shortlists as meritocracy in miniature - pure signal in a noisy world. Kane nudges at the darker truth: these systems don’t just reward talent; they shape it by determining who keeps going long enough to get good. “Come nowhere” isn’t only about ranking; it’s about being rendered invisible. “The whole fiction game” frames writing as a rigged arena rather than a calling, suggesting that what looks like individual grit is often a relationship with institutions that confer momentum.
There’s also survivor’s perspective baked in. Because Kane didn’t take that path, he can afford to laugh at it. The humility reads as genuine, but it’s also a subtle flex: he endured without that particular stamp of approval. The intent isn’t to romanticize struggle; it’s to expose how easily a single discouraging data point can rewrite a writer’s identity.
Quote Details
| Topic | Failure |
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