Every person plans to run off to some tropical isle, but few do. Real life, family, work, and monetary limitations get in the way. Ian Fleming let none of these considerations stop him.
After the war, Fleming set down his schedule. The first week of January saw him leave England and travel to Jamaica. The first week of March saw his return. He accepted his job at Kemsley newspapers without compromise—this portion of the year would be set aside for Jamaica or he would look elsewhere for employment.
For 6 years Fleming traveled each winter to Jamaica, lounging in paradise, romancing women, chasing the sunset, but it was not until he faced the pressure of a married woman who was pregnant with his child did Fleming start the writer's journey which would change his life and popular culture forever. As Fleming waited in Jamaica for Anne's divorce to become final, he wrote the first draft of a novel, Casino Royale.
Fleming's career as a writer deserves more examination than can be offered here, but suffice it to say, over the next 12 years, Ian Fleming transformed his elite existence, his arrogance, his style, and his acid wit into some of the greatest thrillers ever written. Fleming incurred the respect of authors as diverse as Raymond Chandler, Kingsley Amis, and Edith Sitwell. His fans included John, Jackie, and Bobby Kennedy, and his social circle included Prime Minister Anthony Eden, Evelyn Waugh, and Somerset Maugham.
Fleming filled out the 12 years of Bond with great adventure journalism. Even in stories which had little action or pay off, such as his short non-fiction book, The Diamond Smugglers, the "Fleming-flair" ensured exciting reading. He wrote the "Atticus" column for the Sunday Times, proving a wonderful conduit for inside intelligence information, and clever rebukes (指责).
Regardless of book sales or family obligations, Fleming managed to live the life he wanted. As the years passed, his passion for golfing increased so he took more time with it. Fleming's long-term fascination with America grew, so he traveled there more often.
Ian Fleming's full life caught up with him through his heart. It may be that years of drinking and smoking took their toll, or that the butter-rich cooking Fleming loved was the culprit. Or maybe it was just genetics. Whatever the cause, Fleming's health declined in the late 1950s. This plus anxieties in the marriage increased Fleming's depression. With the success of Bond, the world came knocking at Fleming's door, and he had a harder time shutting those out that he did not want in his life.
Nonetheless, Fleming fought the loosing battle of his weakening heart by throwing more fuel on the fire. He continued to drink and smoke, making some excuses but not many. He wrote books he wanted to read, and traveled the world with style and authority. By this time, Fleming had already earned his own fortune, created his own identity, and ruled his own literary empire.