There’s a myth in writing that if you haven’t “made it” by a certain age, you’ve missed your chance. It’s a young person’s story, borrowed from sport and tech, and it makes very little sense when applied to books.
Writing isn’t a test of speed. It’s a test of accumulation.
Marina Lewycka published her first novel, A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, when she was 59. It became an international bestseller, shortlisted for major prizes, translated widely, and read by people who’d never once worried about debut age.
The book worked because it knew things — about family, displacement, irritation, tenderness — that simply take time to learn.
She’s not an outlier.
Frank McCourt was 66 when Angela’s Ashes appeared.
Penelope Fitzgerald was 58 when she published her first novel.
Mary Wesley didn’t start until her 70s — and then wrote 10 books.
None of these writers arrived fresh and unmarked. They arrived worn in.
Starting late has advantages no one mentions. You’ve already failed at other things, so failure loses its sting. You’ve listened longer than you’ve talked. You’re less interested in impressing and more interested in getting it right. You’ve lived with consequences — which means your characters can too.
Late starters don’t write faster. They write denser. They skip the decorative nonsense. They’re comfortable with silence on the page. They know that not everything needs explaining, and that certainty is usually the least interesting position a character can hold.
Most writing advice is optimised for people under 35: build a brand, find your voice, break through. Late starters don’t need a breakthrough. They need endurance, clarity, and permission — mostly from themselves.
If you’re starting late, you’re not behind. You’re carrying more than you realise. The job isn’t to catch up. It’s to use what you’ve accumulated before it goes to waste.
Books aren’t a young person’s game. They never were.
PS: I don’t count myself among those successful writers. For me, it’s just a hobby. To amuse myself and people who share my sense of humour. But I am old!
JOHN MARTIN 