I’m a writer; that is what I do. Sometimes I even get paid for it, and I’m given deadlines and everything is hunky dory.
However, on the days that I allocate to working on a new novel things can go a bit tits up.
Here’s the thing about novels, they are long, and inevitably packed with words, sentences, paragraphs, chapters; the whole lot. Good God, it’s hard work! And I mean really hard work; not brain surgery hard or finding the cure for cancer hard, but still hard. Ok? Whoever said writing was 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration was dead on the money.
A typical ‘novelling’ day goes a little like this:
8am – Alarm goes off. Snooze button is hit, repeatedly
9am – Finally open my eyes. Open the blind. Justify staying in bed just while I check my emails
11am – Still in bed. Emails checked. Facebook checked. Pinterest checked. Various blogs I follow have been checked. The tv schedule for that evening has been checked. Topshop and Net-a-Porter’s latest arrivals have been checked.
11.15am – Beginning to feel a bit guilty. Get out of bed. Put the kettle on. Feeling more productive. Realise I haven’t prepared a blog post. Finish blog post. Feel satisfied. Reward myself with more Pinterest browsing.
12pm – Getting peckish. Raid the cupboards and fridge. Outrage that Mr T ate all the chocolate hobnobs. Consider walking to the shop for supplies. Veto in favour of a bowl of cereal. Return to bed.
1pm – Make a To-Do list. Feeling much more productive now. Call Momma P for a chat. Check the stats for my blog. Worry that no one likes my writing. Finally open the latest piece of writing for my book. Stare at page.
2pm – Still staring at page. Change the font size. Change font. Add page numbers. Throw in a header. Change the line spacing.
2.15pm – Find some Kendal Mint Cake at the back of a cupboard. Random. Eat.
2.30pm – Decide I need to do more research for my book. Discover that BBC’s iPlayer has a whole series on Brazil (where I’m setting part of my novel). Justify watching series back to back. Still in bed.
5pm – Wake up. Must have dozed off during one of the documentaries. Realise Mr T will be home in an hour or so. Smell armpits. Reluctantly jump in shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Move cereal bowl into kitchen. Make bed. Throw in a load of washing. Unload the dishwasher. Open the fridge hoping for inspiration for tea.
5.15pm – Turn on Pointless.
6pm – Switch over to The Simpsons. Mr T arrives home. He asks about my day. I reply optimistically.
11pm – Can’t sleep due to impromptu afternoon nap. Mr T out like a light. Worry over today’s low word count (0). Promise to do better tomorrow.