I’ve been in the scary world of ‘writing for a living’ for almost a year now, and I’ve been trying to decide whether I like it as much as I thought I would.
Like most things, it can seem really tedious and draining at times – constructive criticism can be an absolute killer – and motivating myself to do anything in the summer is a struggle. Still though, it’s a lot better than selling vodka to old drunks and I’m now full of facts about things like rural hotels, Kitten Club Tuesday, the Brothers Grimm’s seven dwarfs and the histories of various lower-league football teams.
My mind is on a long-distance plane flight, and I’m not sure if this is a good or bad thing.
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