For most of my life, I believed success looked a certain way. You work hard, you progress, you hit the next milestone and then the next one after that. My journey as a police officer and author completely changed that belief.
In policing, it’s easy to become focused on progression. Rank, responsibility and promotion can become closely tied to your sense of achievement. For me, that was especially true of becoming a detective. When I joined the police in 2017, I didn’t care about rank. I simply wanted to be a detective.
Over time, though, I tied a huge part of my identity to the idea of becoming a Detective Sergeant. In my mind, it wasn’t just a promotion; it was proof that I was moving forward.
So when I failed my Detective Sergeant board interview, it hit hard. When I failed it again, my confidence shattered. Strangely enough, that failure set me on the road to publishing two crime fiction novels, with a third on the way.
When your identity is built around achievement
I’ve always been someone who sets goals and works relentlessly towards them. At school, in my career and in life generally, I was used to getting where I wanted to go. I put the work in and usually hit the mark.
Failure wasn’t something I knew how to process well.
At the time, I was working in the Domestic Abuse Unit as a temporary sergeant, an emotionally demanding role with significant responsibility. I’d completed my detective accreditation, worked complex investigations and felt I had earned the opportunity to progress.
When I failed, I started questioning myself in ways I never had before.
Was I not good enough? Was I falling behind? Had I built my entire sense of self around a version of success that wasn’t meant for me?
Looking back now, I realise how burnt out I was. The idea of writing a crime novel wouldn’t even have crossed my mind.
The move that changed everything
Eventually, I moved into a specialist stalking role, leading a small team focused on improving the force’s response to stalking.
At the time, it felt like a sideways move. In reality, it gave me something I desperately needed: space.
Space to think differently. Space to rebuild my confidence. Space to stop obsessing over the career path I thought I should be following.
The role required a more strategic mindset and encouraged creative thinking. Slowly, my relationship with success began to change.
A couple of months later, I passed my promotion board on the third attempt and finally became Detective Sergeant Roshan Pitteea.
But the biggest change wasn’t the promotion itself. It was the headspace I had gained along the way.
In March 2024, I sat down at my laptop and started writing my debut novel, Care & Control, which was published later that year. Its sequel, The Voodoo Room, followed the next October.
Rejected twice over
Having written the books, I felt an urgency to get them into readers’ hands. Research quickly showed me how difficult traditional publishing can be for new authors. Many writers spend years trying to secure a book deal.
I decided to publish independently.
That decision initially terrified me. There’s still a stigma attached to self-publishing in some circles, and I worried how my work would be perceived.
At the same time, I was also facing rejection from literary agents and publishers. Some responses were polite, some generic and many never arrived at all.
Repeated rejection has a way of chipping away at your confidence, particularly when you’ve spent years believing that hard work alone guarantees progress.
The same feelings I’d experienced after failing my promotion board started to resurface.
But this time I recognised something important.
Failure wasn’t necessarily telling me to stop. It was simply pushing me towards a different route.
The lessons from my promotion board experience suddenly felt relevant again. Rejection from one path doesn’t mean your work has no value. Sometimes it simply means you need to find another door.
What rejection taught me
Ironically, many of the experiences that hurt the most became fuel for my writing.
The frustration, self-doubt and pressure all found their way into my characters. Readers connected with them because they felt authentic.
My lead detective, Louis Mortimer, struggles with imposter syndrome throughout the series. Readers often tell me how real he feels. That’s because those emotions come from a genuine place.
I think many people experience turning points not through dramatic moments, but through quieter disappointments that force them to reassess who they are.
Failure strips things back and leaves you asking difficult questions:
- If this doesn’t happen for me, who am I?
- What actually matters?
- What does success look like when nobody else is validating it?
For me, success no longer means ticking boxes or chasing external approval.
It means creating work I genuinely believe in. It means using my experiences to raise awareness of issues such as stalking, coercive control and abuse. It means connecting honestly with readers and trusting my own judgement.
Sometimes the setback is the turning point
If you’d told me years ago that failing repeatedly would eventually lead me to writing novels and finding a clearer sense of purpose, I wouldn’t have believed you.
At the time, all I could see was disappointment.
But life often changes direction in ways that only make sense in hindsight.
The things we think are ruining our plans can sometimes be the very things redirecting us towards something more authentic and fulfilling.
Today, whether in policing or writing, I find myself more grounded and more aware of the bigger picture. Instead of focusing solely on the next step, I spend more time looking at where the journey is taking me.
I still don’t enjoy failure. I don’t think many people do.
But I no longer see rejection as an assault on my self-worth. Sometimes it’s simply life nudging you towards a path you hadn’t considered.
What feels like a setback today may turn out to be the turning point that changes everything.
By Roshan Pitteea, crime fiction author
About the author
Roshan Pitteea is a crime writer and author whose work explores the darker side of human behaviour, relationships and obsession through gritty, character-driven storytelling.
Drawing on his background in policing and social work, Roshan brings authenticity and realism to his fiction, creating stories that combine psychological tension with emotionally complex characters and procedural detail. His writing is shaped by years spent interviewing suspects in police interview rooms, supporting vulnerable victims and children through difficult investigations, and witnessing first-hand the devastating impact crime can have on individuals, families and communities alike.
Roshan’s work is particularly interested in the emotional and psychological dimensions of crime, focusing not just on the investigation itself, but on the personal consequences experienced by victims, perpetrators and those tasked with uncovering the truth. His stories often examine themes of identity, vulnerability, control and fixation, placing flawed and human characters at the centre of dark, unsettling narratives.
At the heart of Roshan’s writing is recurring protagonist PC Louis Mortimer, a police officer navigating both complex criminal investigations and the challenges of his personal life. Through Mortimer, Roshan explores the realities of modern policing alongside broader questions around trust, trauma, morality and human connection.
His latest novel, No-One’s Watching, continues this approach, following Louis as he becomes entangled in a chilling stalking case connected to one of the city’s elite bodybuilding gyms. Combining psychological suspense with procedural realism, the novel examines obsession, manipulation and the dangers that can exist beneath seemingly ordinary lives.
Roshan is passionate about creating crime stories that feel grounded, emotionally believable and socially relevant. He is particularly interested in portraying LGBTQ+ characters and relationships with nuance and authenticity within the crime genre, helping to bring broader representation to contemporary crime fiction.
Driven by a fascination with human behaviour and the complexities of modern life, Roshan continues to develop stories that balance suspense, realism and emotional depth. His ambition is to create crime fiction that not only grips readers, but also leaves a lasting emotional impact long after the final page.
