- Day 71: 4am wake up & Bright Future’s bright beginning
- Day 72: Rosa Parks & Retelling Jokes
- Day 75: Faults & Adaptability
- Day 79: Good nights and bad nights
- Day 80: Good England & bad sci-fi
- Day 81: Trapped feet & freed words
- Day 82: Jobs & processes
- Day 85: Mattresses and eleven o clock stop
- Day 88: Spreadsheets & bare minimum
It’s two minutes to midnight.
Sorry, one minute to midnight.
Basically, nothing has gone to plan.
When I woke this morning I thought in this blog I’d talk about Anthony Horowitz as I would have finished The Word is Murder, and link that to writing quality and the quality threshold when it comes to indie publishing.
Interesting stuff. I’ll still do the blog. Hopefully tomorrow (which incidentally is now today as it’s gone midnight) I should probably change this to day 73 but that would involve changing the image and I can’t do that on my phone, where I’m now typing for reasons that will soon become clear, so let’s leave it as is.
Anyway, my plan changed when something remarkable happened at work.
And by work I mean in my office, at my job. The thing I do to pay my bills and keep my wife and I in food and books and my daughter in clothes.
Her food, at least is free. Unless you count the cost of my wife’s time, energy and sometimes happiness.
My point is when people ask me what I do I say I’m a marketer, not a writer. I’m not one of those people who claim to be an actor as they take your order at Zizzis.
I digress. And doing this on a phone it’s so easy to lose track of where I am.
My plan changed because of the Rosa Parks incident.
It goes a little something like this:
A colleague of mine (colleague 1) leans over to another colleague (colleague 2) and says, “do you know who Rosa Parks is?”
Colleague 2 says “no”. She is not being sarcastic. Nor joking.
Colleague 1 says, “that’s a shame, I told a really funny joke yesterday, but it involved Rosa Parks so I won’t retell it”
Couple of things wrong with this.
First, how do you get to be 32 and not know who Rosa Parks? We’re English so she wasn’t a big deal to us in the same way she is to Americans, but still, unforgivable.
Second, it is unacceptable to retell a funny thing you said, after the fact.
Look, I get it. Nothing feels better than making people laugh. But to go around retelling funny things you said is not allowed. Especially not if you’re going to say it’s funny ahead of time.
Take a look at stand up comedians for example. If they’re talking about funny things someone said, they’ll say it was a friend, or a stranger, even if it wasn’t.
If even a comedian can’t get away with retelling funny things they said, neither can you.
Just makes you look like a dick.
This is how easily distracted from the things I’m supposed to be talking about.
Its 13 minutes past midnight. I’ve written almost 500 words on my phone. I hate it. I’m going to stop.
I’ll end by saying I went into today confident after the great writing day I had yesterday.
Always a mistake.
Also a mistake, bragging. I honestly wasn’t doing that yesterday when I talked about my daughters brilliant sleeping patterns, but the universe has got confused again.
So, instead of doing a thousand words of Bright Future, a thousand of Bright, this blog, and getting to bed for some reading soon after eleven, I actually only did about 900 words on Future, none on Bright and here I sit at 00:17, doing my blog.
Sophie decided tonight would be the night she would not sleep in her cot, no matter what Fay or I did.
Right now, she’s on my chest. I’m about to publish this, and try once more to get her to go down for the night. If that doesn’t…
oh God, I don’t know.
I’ll let you know.