I’ve had my journalist hat on today. I’ve been at a day long press conference, which means all e-mails and phone calls have been ignored and I’ve had four glorious hours on a train. I am pleased to report that I spent most of that time working on the novel.
It feels good to be making inroads into the book. I got some feedback from the literary agent who is overseeing the online course and she confirmed that my first person take on the story works well. Now that I have made the decision on POV, I’m trying to get into the main character’s head.
She’s a bit like me – well she’s 52 and has children, two to be precise. But she is more careful than I am. She’s led more of a sheltered life and is pregnant with another man’s baby, which I am most certainly not. There’s another thing to be thankful for!
It felt good to be the old me today. If print journalism hadn’t taken such a battering, I’d have carried on freelancing quite happily. The money is so appalling, it’s just not tenable as a sole source of income.
All the other pies I have fingers in are cooking nicely at the moment. No big cheques winging their way into the bank account, but I am on a good path. I am not sure if it is the right path, but life is sweet right now so I cannot complain.
I have half an hour left of this journey and having written three, yes three chapters of the novel, I am going to reward myself with some TV drama on the iPad. I was going to try and give TV up, but then I realized that I’ve got to have some pleasure in life. Besides, it’s storytelling and that’s my thing. It would be like giving up coffee or croissants – sensible, but verging on masochism.
I am writing a great novel. One day, I will see it on the shelves at WH Smith. I am a badass. I am a cash magnet. I am so on it.
PS This would have been posted ages ago were it not for the wi-fi on Virgin trains. Looks like Richard Branson’s not so perfect after all!