Last night I was complaining to my husband. “I’ve been busy all day,” I wailed over the spaghetti, “but I haven’t written a word!” What I should have said is that I hadn’t written a word of “Plank 2” (despite that scary countdown thing I’ve added to this blog). What I did write yesterday:
- eight press releases for a new series of books that I have written about anti-money laundering in Guernsey (that’s the day job)
- the first draft of a new book about anti-money laundering in the UK (day job again)
- a 600-word article for for the local business magazine on how to manage email in a one-person business (day job-ish)
- a 400-word article for the local newspaper on the Cambridge Science Festival (just for fun)
- an outline for a longer article on money laundering through the diamond trade (I’ll let you guess).
So although I felt that I hadn’t written anything, I had in fact written a huge amount – it just didn’t count in my mind as *serious voice, a bit like Simon Callow at his most Shakespearean* writing.
But on reflection I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. After all, I have to earn a crust and, to be brutally honest, royalties from “Fatal Forgery” are not paying many bills at the moment. And surely, just as doing reps in the gym helps footballers on the pitch, I’m still exercising my writing muscles. Perhaps I should start carbo-loading – pass the chocolate biscuits, quick!