This is going to come as a shock to some, but I actually do work. The fact that my earnings are pitiful (for now!) is immaterial.
I want erased permanently those mental pictures of me:
- Laughing over cappuccinos in smart coffee shops for hours with my girlfriends
- Languishing on a sofa with a stack of novels and a rapidly-emptying box of Quality Street
- Having long lunches accompanied by bucketfuls of champagne at a beachside bistro with George (Clooney)
- Bopping along to a step class at a designer gym
- Trailing idly through Witchery and Country Road before emerging, staggering under the weight of my purchases
- Sighing under the skillful hands of a massage therapist, or having my hair/nails/face/eyelashes/eyebrows/bikini line masterfully sculpted at the salon
- Entertaining a boyish lover/George in my boudoir while hubby and kids are at work/school/kinder
- Soothing my soul while I garden with the cats frolicking about me in the sunlight
- Spending hours on the phone/Facebook, catching up with my mates
- Sitting around with my finger up by bum, wondering what to do next
For the record:
- I adore cappuccinos and coffee shops, but make do with instant in a chipped mug
- I only read before bed
- My hips and thighs don’t tolerate Quality Street
- I can’t drink champagne during the day – it sends me straight to sleep and I have a life to lead
- I have neither the time nor the money for step classes in designer gyms, shopping, or massages/beauty therapy. My hair is grey and gets cut once a term. My nails/face/eyelashes/eyebrows/bikini line seldom receive any attention whatsoever. When they do, it is self-administered.
- Gardening and catching up with mates is done outside of work time (but mine is a solitary profession, so every hour or so I might take two seconds to say hidi hi on Facebook)
- As much as I’d find it difficult to say no to George or a wannabe boyish lover, I’m happily married and want to stay that way
- I have never stuck my finger up my bum
When QueenBee is at kinder, I walk away from cooking, laundry, cleaning and the exciting pursuits listed above and work.
I do not take calls that are not related to writing.
I don’t answer emails that are not related to writing.
And I particularly do not answer unsolicited emails from would-be anonymous first-time writers who want me to edit their work free of charge. Call me callous, but I don’t. (I know, I know. Everybody has a book in them. Everybody would write if they only had the time. But you know what? It’s actually not as easy as it looks.)
Here is something I sometimes want to tell people, but don’t because I don’t want to be rude or unkind. However after this morning’s anonymous request, I’m pissed off enough to shout it out loud:
Constructing grammatically correct, entertaining sentences, articles or books is a long, sometimes tedious, often difficult process. It is not a bodily function, like breathing. And when you’ve created something, you can spend hours, days and years honing it to get it right. It takes even longer to hone someone else’s creation. And I don’t do it for free, or for fun. Sorry.
I will write or edit for you with the greatest of pleasure if:
- I love you and I offer
- or
- You ask nicely and you pay me