So you must be thinking, apart from watching the activities of their pet fish, what does this mysterious and deeply fascinating blogger do with their time?
Well, I am a struggling novelist. I am quite serious about this; it is what I do with most of my time and energy, so please don’t snigger. I am trying to finish the third draft of my first novel. I have written tens of thousands of words, including “soliloquy” the best word in the entire Oxford English Dictionary. But in case you hadn’t gathered, I am not gifted with a lavish or literary style. I only use “soliloquy” once and even then with caution. It’s not really that type of novel.
I guess one would describe what I’m writing as a psychological thriller. It has gothic moments and quite a lot of violence. No fish at all. Not one. Not even a lobster. Not one, single, god-forsaken lobster, okay? Just so you’ve all got that clear in your minds. I wouldn’t want any confusion on that issue.
I have been writing this book for almost two years now. The thing that allows me to do this is also the thing which makes it such a long hard slog. I am incapacitated for work, which means that I have the security of a roof over my head and enough to eat without having to worry about going out to work in the morning. Unfortunately the health problems that stop me working a proper job also stop me working on my book at anything like the pace I would like to. I have great swathes of time in bed, totally fogged out and in too much pain to concentrate. So it trickles out onto my laptop and those who would underestimate me doubt I’ll ever finish it. From time to time I count myself amongst them.
I expect I will go on and on about writing and what hard work it is as I continue to blog, but I’ll leave you for the time being and go to bed.
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