Day 1: A Writer Starts a Writing Diary
A day-by-day account of my journey to writing success
Recap: In “A First Encounter With My Publisher” I explain how my writing career started. How I got my lucky break with Theo and it only cost me fifty pounds.
The Team: Theo — my publisher. Janice — his PA. Dave — my mate. Mark Ewbie — a new writer, starting today.
This diary will document my progress as I write my way to success — one day at a time.
Note to self: Buy calendar.
The Team: Theo — my publisher. Janice — his PA. Dave — my mate. Mark Ewbie — a new writer, starting today.
This diary will document my progress as I write my way to success — one day at a time.
Note to self: Buy calendar.
The Weekend Before Starting
After signing my writing contract with my publisher Theo, I hurried home and waited for Monday to arrive. Did the usual weekend stuff, bit of light thievery and messing around. Nothing too serious.
No run ins with the filth. Nothing of incident, as they say in their reports.
Monday
Monday came and went. I had a nice day chilling, and Dave came round for a smoke. No writing, because I was contracted to start on Tuesday.
After signing my writing contract with my publisher Theo, I hurried home and waited for Monday to arrive. Did the usual weekend stuff, bit of light thievery and messing around. Nothing too serious.
No run ins with the filth. Nothing of incident, as they say in their reports.
Monday
Monday came and went. I had a nice day chilling, and Dave came round for a smoke. No writing, because I was contracted to start on Tuesday.
Tuesday — Day 1
Tuesday arrived. My first day of being a proper writer!
Not one of those fancy college types with letters after their name and a knowledge of incomprehensible stuff. Just an ordinary writer, speaking from the streets — or the flat above them.
Theo had rented me a computer to do my writing. I started at 11:47 a.m. sharp.
I stared at the screen for a while. After fifteen minutes of watching the screen-saver my eyes became blurry. I made a coffee, had a smoke, and looked out the window for inspiration.
There was a commotion in the street below. A young woman was arguing with a policeman while her dogs were dragging someone in a wheelchair into the middle of the road. At the same time, the local Scout group was marching in aid of Climate Change, and a strange, furtive man was peering into the window of the jeweler's.
Back to Word. What to write about when there’s nothing much happening?
It’s tough, this working life. When you’re required to do something, you end up doing anything but. I sat back to cogitate. That means when your cogs are rotating. It’s the sort of thing writers say — I’m a quick learner.
Tuesday arrived. My first day of being a proper writer!
Not one of those fancy college types with letters after their name and a knowledge of incomprehensible stuff. Just an ordinary writer, speaking from the streets — or the flat above them.
Theo had rented me a computer to do my writing. I started at 11:47 a.m. sharp.
I stared at the screen for a while. After fifteen minutes of watching the screen-saver my eyes became blurry. I made a coffee, had a smoke, and looked out the window for inspiration.
There was a commotion in the street below. A young woman was arguing with a policeman while her dogs were dragging someone in a wheelchair into the middle of the road. At the same time, the local Scout group was marching in aid of Climate Change, and a strange, furtive man was peering into the window of the jeweler's.
Back to Word. What to write about when there’s nothing much happening?
It’s tough, this working life. When you’re required to do something, you end up doing anything but. I sat back to cogitate. That means when your cogs are rotating. It’s the sort of thing writers say — I’m a quick learner.
What had Theo asked me to do? He’s boring to listen to, so I missed that part. “Content, content, content,” he’d shouted at one point, going quite red in the face. Bad blood pressure, I reckon. Hope he lives long enough to pay me for all this work.
Content? Ah, what the hell.
After writing 27 words on Being Content, I switched the machine off. Don’t want to overdo it on the first day. “Set the bar low and keep it low” is my motto.
Oh. One more thing. This is not a diary. It’s a journal. That’s what proper writers call it. Why have two words when one will do? I’ll ask Theo next time I see him.
Time to get relaxed. See you tomorrow.
Content? Ah, what the hell.
After writing 27 words on Being Content, I switched the machine off. Don’t want to overdo it on the first day. “Set the bar low and keep it low” is my motto.
Oh. One more thing. This is not a diary. It’s a journal. That’s what proper writers call it. Why have two words when one will do? I’ll ask Theo next time I see him.
Time to get relaxed. See you tomorrow.
Catch up with Mark and friends on Day 2.