5 posts tagged “tea”
People don't respond to illness well. Especially when they don't understand it or they can't see it.
I have a panic disorder.
I have had for the best part of this year. The doc thinks it was triggered after I got a virus last year and was off work for a month, but this year, while I've been getting used to being freelance I think it's been a lot harder to control.
So, there. I've though about writing this post a lot. I've even written the title a few times but when I get to actually writing it, I don't. Because I don't know how people will react. If I had a broken leg or something it would be different, you'd hopefully all come round and make me tea. But some people, over the last six months have taken a step back from my life because they don't understand it.
Sometimes it's nothing major - a few butterflies. And over the last month or so I've been mostly fine. But today I feel a bit horrid. I get butterflies to the point where I'm going to have a panic attack, but I don't. The thought of having one causes me to have more butterflies and it's a cycle that sometimes I don't think will end.
Most of the time I'm fine, and things are so great now and I'm really happy. I just have toruble dealing with things being out of my control. I like being able to plan and feel that I can deal with anything. If anything, or anyone messes with that I can't deal with it. Instead of dealing with it, I'm likely to hide away until I don't have to anymore.
I'm not sure what difference writing this will make - maybe it's just my way of gaining control again. I don't know.
Maybe one day I won't have to know.
No not the bible. Much more important than that. I'm talking about The Book. Every writer I know has one book. The book that changed their life. The book that made them want to write.
My book was Rebecca's World. By Terry Nation. The guy who wrote Doctor Who apparently. Although I didn't realise that until it was out of print and I had to pay £20 for a copy on Ebay (damn those sci-fi geeks). It was worth every penny. When it arrived in the post I called in sick at work, made a cup of tea and read the whole thing in an hour.
I don't know what it is about the book. I'd always written when I was a kid and it was because of this book. I have no interest in Science Fiction and it surprised me to find how geeky sciency it was. The book is actually about a stroppy little girl who speaks her mind and shouts a lot. Stamps her foot once as well I think. Maybe I like her more than I like the story.
I wasn't writing much when the book arrived but I did after I'd read it. It's still an inspiring book even now. And I still remember the bit that was really really scary when I was a kid. (I'm not telling you. I don't want to ruin the story. Plus, you'll laugh.)
I treasure that book. And whenever I think about it, I remember that I'm meant to be enjoying this writing malarky. It's just scribbling on bits of paper. It should be fun.
I turned down work today. Even though I wasn't sure if I should. Yeah I could have taken it on, worked a bit over the weekend. Or, I can be really happy with the work I've got, drink tea and read childrens books and go out dancing.
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PS - this was first posted on my Hospital Club blog "Full Time Tea Drinker." Go and read that one instead. They pay me for that one.
A month ago I had very little work. Enough to cover my rent and that was it. I had no money for soup (I don't really like baked beans) let alone cocktails. And then it all changed.
Then I got a proper editor job three days a week. In a real office and everything! With my own little desk! People to talk to! It's brilliant! Rubbish tea machine though. I miss real tea.
And all at the same time, I was given load more writing work. In fact, it's more than I know what to do with. It's possible that I'm actually taking on too much. But how can I turn down work when I know that it could all dry up next week? (This isn't a rhetorical question, I'm actually asking you.)
Yes, things are brilliant and I'm really enjoying all of the work I'm doing. But I've only got so much time in the day. When do I have to say "Sorry, I can't work on your fabulous website that could be really good for my career because I want to watch Eastenders"?
It's easy for me to think "It's only one extra blog post" or "What's an extra 500 words?" but I know there's going to be a time when I burn out. Since I've been freelance I've never missed a deadline. That's something I always want to be able to say.
On Friday, I've got a meeting with a new women's magazine start-up. Maybe I'll think about cutting back after then. After all, this could be a really good opportunity for me.
And so it continues...
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(pssst.... this blog post was first posted on my new blog for The Hospital Club. You can read that here. If you'd like to sign up and comment on that, they might carry on paying me.)
The Guardian have a column called "How I write" and it surprises me how interested everybody is in this. Writers use it as a kind of 'competition' between one another - as though their way of working means that they are more accomplished, more professional. It's all bollocks of course. Non-writers are always fascinated by it - either to hopefully confirm that it's really hard (so they shouldn't start that book), or to prove that they're right and it's really easy and we don't work hard at all. They're the worst.
I realised the other day that I write in my head. Which seems obvious, but it's a really helpful thing. So yeah, while everyone thinks that I leave things to the last minute (yes, a little bit of that is true but there are a lot of bars in London that I must go to), by the time I get around to writing something, most of it has been written in my head. Like this blog post. I wrote this in my head on trains over the weekend.
I even correct myself when I write in my head. Which is strange. Sometimes I picture typing when I do this, but only when I'm correcting stuff. It helps me remember things. And it's very rare I forget stuff which also helps.
This means, that I can actually knock out an article quickly. Really quickly. I can write the first draft of an article in less than an hour. And I always feel like I'm cheating. Like it shouldn't be that easy. It helps that I write a lot of opinion pieces, but it's still pretty speedy. Unless I haven't had tea in which case I might as well try writing blind folded and with my right hand.
Mostly, unless I haven't done enough thinking on trains, the first draft isn't much different to how the article ends up. I still feel like this is cheating. After all, I've been taught that most of writing is rewriting and I just don't have to deal with this. Sure, if I was writing a book it might be true, but it's online stuff - it's off the cuff. That's not to say that I don't put all my effort into my work, but I don't get precious anymore. Well, most of the time. Sort of. I guess I can look at things objectively. And if I have to cut things that I liked to start with, I don't mind.
As for where I write, mostly in bed, or sat on my bed. I'd sit at my desk but it's messy. There are three plates and about 8 cups and glasses on there at the moment. Ooops. I'm still very messy. I write with the TV on, but not with music on. I write non-fiction on my laptop straight away but I have to write fiction by hand. I interview people and scribble in my little grey notebook. The one with the flower print on it. It has to be that book. I'm shit at interviews, I feel like a twat when I do them and never feel professional. But somehow, they turn into some of my best pieces which makes me happy.
It might not be the best way of writing. But it works for me.
So the Foo Fighters were amazing. Realy really really amazing. I would happily marry Dave Grohl. And I stil adore Tayor Hawkins but he looks like Ed so fancying him is a bit weird. BUT YES. They were brilliant and I'm happy. I also can't move.
So today I am sitting. On my sofa with a balnket. I am being lazy and generally being chilled. Not least because I can't feel my legs of my head or... any of me really. But who cares. Lots of fun. Best gig ever. I have a little mini Dave Grohl running around in my head singing Foos songs. This happens a lot after I've been to a good gig.
I got more writing work yesterday too. I'm an arts correspondant for a new website for Chelsea socialites. A strange audience to be writing for, but it's OK money and another platform. Writing about art is fun too - I get to go to all those shows and mentally punch the arty wankers who talk bollocks. If I ever find myself talking like that I want someone to throw cheap wine at me from their plastic cup.
This means I've got enough work. In fact, with the website launching, I might even have too much. How the fuck did that happen? Two weeks ago I was crying coz I didn't have anything to do! Now I'd have to turn down work! Freelancing is strange.
But I've thought about things, and yes it means for the next couple of weeks I'll have to get used to everything and not go out to play as much as I like, but I'd rather have all this work and be tired instead of having no work. For all I know it could all dry up next week. As long as I actually save some money and look after me and don't spend all of my wages on shoes then I'll be fine. Then I'll have money to drown my sorrows when I'm unemployed. Clever.
What am I doing this weekend? Today I am chilling out on my sofa. Not even moving a little bit. But I might have a bottle of wine later. And then tomorrow I'm off to a photo studio in Spitalfields to have a chat with a guy who photographs all the people visiting the market each Sunday. It's cool. I'm also planning on buying some new shoes to wear on Tuesday. None of that sounds very rock n roll, but neither was the cup of tea I had after the gig last night.
Ooooh... cup of tea....off I toddle...
