Life & Wisdom Quote by Brian Lumley

There is a neat little trapdoor in Lumley's line: it starts as a victory lap and ends as an accusation. The phrase "so-called critics" is the tell. He's not merely remembering advice; he's marking a power shift. Critics once positioned themselves as gatekeepers dispensing the classic workshop bromide - find your own voice - as if originality is a moral obligation and not also a marketable style. Lumley takes that sanctimony and flips it into a charge of hypocrisy: the people who demanded authenticity from him now sound like nobody in particular.

The intent is twofold. On the surface, it's a writer defending his creative identity against a chorus of tastemakers. Underneath, it questions what criticism is supposed to be. The best critics cultivate a voice because judgment is never neutral; it's a performance of values, taste, and risk. By implying they have "lost theirs", Lumley suggests critics have traded distinctiveness for safety - consensus reviews, recycled criteria, the same handful of adjectives passed around like office stationery.

Context matters here because Lumley built a career in genre fiction, a space historically patronized by "serious" literary culture even as it drives readership and innovation. In that ecosystem, being told to "find your voice" can function less like mentorship and more like a polite way of saying, stop being what you are. His jab lands because it's compact and personal: he doesn't argue with critics on their terms. He insinuates they've become interchangeable, and that is the one thing a critic can't afford.