A Day in the Life of a Glamorous Full-Time Writer

5am—Woken up by neighbour’s dog as it runs manically up and down the stairs that run behind our bedroom wall. Regret the decision to choose this room to be the master bedroom, but it was the only one with built-wardrobes. Husband is snoring like a train and blissfully unaware of the noise.

7am—Alarm goes off. Hit snooze repeatedly.

7:15am—Alarm goes off again. Tell husband he has five more minutes before he has to get up, and will he please stop pushing me off the bed?

7:20am—Alarm goes off again. Nearly fall out of bed turning it off, then tell husband to get up and have a shower. He tells me that he doesn’t like showers because they make him smell. Eventually convince him to get up. Fall back asleep.

7:35am—Husband returns from shower and asks if I’ll start breakfast. Still half asleep, I tell him I will not.

7:40am—Husband steals the duvet and makes me get out of bed. Notice that he’s wearing different jeans from yesterday and am impressed that he changed them without having to be ordered to. Start breakfast.

7:45am—Remember that it’s recycling day and ask husband to put the recycling bin in front of the house, since I’m still in my nightdress.

7:47am—Husband returns from outside soaking wet. Debate taking the bus to Tesco today, since me and my little trolly will probably get drenched on the mile-long walk from our house. Eat breakfast.

8:10am—Start putting things in my husband’s rucksack because he’ll probably forget them (book, headphones, snacks) and notice that his shirt is covered in mud from the outside of the recycling bin. Make him change.

8:20am—Finally wave husband off to work and settle down to drink tea and check emails. Spend far too long catching up on book groups, writing forums and Twitter. Bookmark an online workshop on writing synopsises and accidentally stumble upon a self-published fan-fiction novel about Anne Elliott from Persuasion becoming a long-distance runner. Ponder how on earth that idea came into being. Scroll through Facebook for thirty second and like two pictures of friends’ babies and then get bored. Hunt for cover art for next week’s reviews on The Christian Manifesto and double-check the schedule to see when my next review needs to be ready. Discover a recipe for Nutella Banana Bread and decide that I definitely need to add chocolate spread to the shopping list.

9:30am—Running out of things to do on the internet, bemoan the weather (which is preventing me from doing any laundry) and have a shower.

9:45am—Get dressed, annoyed that I haven’t ironed any of my long-sleeved shirts since I didn’t think I’d need them in JULY. Go for the layered look instead.

10am—Attempt to load a new audiobook on to Kindle to listen to while doing the dishes. After installing Audible and reinstalling it several times, remember that it has never worked on the family PC and turn on laptop. While waiting for laptop to turn on, put away yesterday’s dishes and fill the sink with water, realising how slow the poor computer is getting. After booting up Audible, realise that the audiobook is already on my Kindle. Hunt for it and find it listed as a newly added file. Confused at whatever magic the faulty program on my PC has done, finally start dishes at 10:15. Notice that two police officers are banging on the door to the next house and wonder what’s going on. Would it make for an interesting story?

10:30am—Brush hair (which has been wrapped in a towel after leaving the shower) and get ready to head to Tesco. Appears to have stopped raining, but will take money for the bus in case get caught in a torrential downpour.

11am—Thankfully make it to Tesco without getting rained on, and only nearly got knocked down once while crossing the road.

11:30am—Having found nearly everything on my list, proceed to spend the next ten minutes looking for rice cakes and hummus. Hint: they’re not where you’d expect them to be. Bright spot: small child excitedly waves his hummus at me and allows me to share in his joy at being allowed to carry the tub around the shop all on his own.

11:45am—Finally leave the supermarket after mistakenly choosing the check-out with the cashier who likes to have a full conversation with everyone around her, but neglects to help the old couple in front of me pack their bags, forcing them to take five minutes to put four items in one carrier bag. At least she’s friendly. Manage to save £7 with coupons, and feel far too excited about this achievement.

12:10pm—Make it home slightly wet, but not too bedraggled. At least the journey back from the supermarket is shorter as it’s all downhill. Put food away, make cup of tea and indulge in rice crackers, hummus and celery sticks for lunch while watching Cougar Town.

12:30pm—Accidentally get sucked into some relationship articles on Pinterest, which inevitably lead to romance-novel bashing because “it’s just porn.” Wonder how these people, presumably Americans from their spelling, have never stumbled across Christian romance novels in their life.

1pm—It’s finally 8am on the East Coast, so I start posting links to TCM’s reviews of the day all over social media, and begin to attack my inbox.

1:35pm—Finish with emails earlier than usual as it’s July and most people are on holiday. Decide to start writing, but get distracted by whale noises from the flat upstairs. Unsure whether the dog is just whining weirdly or if the neighbours really are listening to whale music.

1:45pm—Whale noises finally stop. Begin writing.

2:05pm—Having whacked out 700 words, take a break to make tea. Lady Grey is my tea of choice for the afternoon.

2:10pm—After briefly being sucked back into Twitter, resume writing. Don’t love the scene, but will plough through and EDIT LATER. That’s basically my writing mantra.

2:20pm—Finish scene and take quick break to peruse GoodReads.

2:30pm—Begin writing next scene.

2:55pm—Finish another scene and take a break to eat rice cakes and look at recipes while trying to figure out what direction to head in next. Hero is coming off a little bit like an aloof jerk, so this needs to be fixed ASAP.

3:30pm—Finish up third scene of the day. Word count totals in at 2,800 words, which is not typical for me, but I haven’t had a lot of housework to do today, and we’re having hot dogs for dinner, which does not require a lot of preparation. Save file to computer and Google Drive, just to be safe.

3:40pm—After replying to a couple of emails, tidy living room, put laundry away, clean sink and rearrange the staples cupboard so that the new groceries fit properly. Really, this life is glamorous, can’t you tell?

4pm—Sit down to read on the sofa in the living room.

5:15pm—Husband texts to say that he’s on the bus home from work. Start dinner.

5:45pm—Husband returns from work. Sit down to have dinner. Spend rest of evening watching Dollhouse, doing dishes, reading and drinking tea.

11pm—Sleep!

From a Different Perspective

Yesterday my husband and I had the opportunity to baby-sit for the most adorable twenty-month-old twins. It’s been a while since I’ve spent time with children this age, since most of the kids in my Sunday school class are over the age of three. These children were so excited by everything they saw, whether it was a truck, dog, bird or simply another person their height. Each dog or truck was just as exciting as the last, making them shout “Wow!” every time a van drove past the play park. It was fascinating to see the world through the eyes of a toddler and witness their joy over everyday items or occurrences that adults barely notice.

I don’t think I’m going to start shouting “Wow!” every time a bin lorry drives down my street, but I think there’s a lot to be learnt from another person’s perspective. Today, a toddler taught me to appreciate the people who empty my bins, and I found myself pausing to look at wildlife and birds a lot more on our walk back from the park.

You don’t necessarily have to give yourself entirely over to someone’s system of belief in order to gain something from their perspective. I love reading Amish fiction because it reminds me to slow down and focus on the simpler things in life. I love the way that the Amish hold family as the highest priority (next to God) since this isn’t something we see a lot of nowadays. It’s something that speaks a lot to me, since my husband and I believe that our relationship and our future children should always be more important than our careers, even if it means sacrificing promotions or a higher salary.

However, I don’t agree with the Amish practice of “shunning” members of a community, especially when the shunning only ends when the person makes a public confession for their sins. I don’t need to hear the details of someone’s sin in order to forgive them or help them, so this just doesn’t seem right to me. Likewise, I’m not a fan of the way that labour and chores are split among the Amish, with women always doing the cooking and cleaning, and men always doing the heavy labour—not to mention male-only preaching. I might love to bake and do laundry, but where does this leave the woman whose skills lie in woodwork or giving sermons? 

But the fact that the Amish rely heavily on gender constructs to split their labour doesn’t mean that I can’t still learn something from their lifestyle. If I ever met an Amish woman, I’d hope she could overlook my jewellery and tight-fitting clothes and be able to bond over our common interests, rather than focusing on those aspects of our lives which are different.

This is something I’ve had to realise this past year, particularly with regards to my increasing involvement in feminism. I think I’ve probably always been a feminist, but I didn’t start using the label to describe myself until recently. I held back because I didn’t agree with some of the things people did in the name of feminism, particularly groups like FEMEN. It took me a while to realise that I could call myself a feminist without agreeing with every individual feminist act or organisation.

I’ve met some wonderful men and women in the Christian community who want to promote equality and make more people aware of the prevalence of issues like domestic abuse and rape, and promote ways in which to protect women from dangerous situations. But even in this community, I come across feminists who support viewpoints that I don’t agree with—whether have different views on abortion, or have a more extreme stance on modesty. Even so, I’m still grateful for the viewpoints that have introduced me to, and the ways in which they have enlightened my thinking. 

Sometimes I think that we’re under the illusion that we need to agree with everything another person believes in order to call them our friend, but this way of thinking is ultimately going to leave us rather lonely. Sometimes having one small point to connect on can be all we need to forge a new friendship, which can be especially important when we’re heading off to a new adventure—moving house, starting a new career or hobby, or entering a new university. I’ve made a lot of unexpected friendships at university, and even if I haven’t always agreed with some friends’ actions of points of view on certain subjects, I’d like to think that each person I’ve stayed friends with over these past four years has enriched my life in some way. Sometimes it takes someone from a different culture or walk of life to help us to see past the hurdles in our own life that seem impossible to get past.  

As we prepare to move to Edinburgh in a couple of weeks, I hope that we can approach new experiences and friendships with the same excitement as the toddlers we babysat—with excitement and appreciation. 

Experimenting with New Recipes

Anyone who knows Simon and I will be aware that we both love to cook. And if you don't, you clearly need to wrangle your way into being invited over for dinner. I'll admit, we haven't experimented with too many new recipes in the last month or so, since we've been busy sitting exams and house-hunting, but we took the opportunity last week to try three new recipes. 

On Tuesday we adapted this Orzo, Feta & Pepper Salad by adding cucumber, radishes and cherry tomatoes. This allowed us to use up vegetables that we knew we'd bought for other meals but wouldn't need all of, and finish up the half bag of orzo that had been sitting in our cupboard for months. We actually didn't make the dressing suggested in the recipe as we discovered a bottle of Cochrane Cottage Chilli Balsamic Dressing in the cupboard that looked like it would go perfectly with this salad. I bought this dressing for Simon for his Christmas and it's a pity we haven't used it until now! This is an excellent summer meal, made even better by the fact that it was warm enough to eat outside on the patio. 

On Wednesday we decided to make Chicken Enchilada Pizza as we had chicken breasts, shredded mozzarella and dough already in our freezer. We're really trying to work our way through everything remaining in the freezer before we move house in July, so this was a great opportunity to clean out part of it. We made our own enchilada sauce using a carton of passata as the base, and we made a few small changes to the pizza. We cooked the tomatoes on the pizza instead of sticking them on at the end, stuck with one type of cheese and skipped the lettuce and sour cream. I described the pizza to my incredibly picky teenage brother over the phone and he immediately asked me to email him a link to the recipe, so it's definitely one to check out.

As Friday is typically our Date Night of the week, Simon always likes to try something unusual, and this week it was Sardines Escabeche with Baked Potato Slices. This was actually my first experience of sardines and I think it'll take a while to get used to the oily flavour. We'd definitely tone down the cider vinegar next time as it was a little overpowering, but otherwise this was an interesting blend of flavours. Asda weren't stocking thyme last week, so we subbed some leftover mint from the orzo salad and it worked fine.

On Giving Advice

As I sit down to write this post, my white, middle class suburban neighbours are playing some pretty cheesy dance music while they cook their barbecue. It’s not the kind of music I ever pictured them listening to, but then again, I never imagined that the young family on the opposite side of the fence would be so fond of rap music, as they revealed at last week’s barbecue. But if either of these families knocked on our door and asked what style of music I preferred, would they guess that the first word out my mouth would be “metal”? Me, who hangs up my laundry with pastel pegs and sits outside in flowery dresses, reading from my pink Kindle?

No matter how well you think you know someone, you can’t always predict what their preferences are—whether we’re talking about music, career paths or parenting styles. Even if you’ve grown up next door to someone, attended the same school or university, or been part of the same family, there will still be plenty of differences.

This all sounds pretty obvious, but I’ve found myself on the receiving end of a lot of advice over the past few years. It’s inevitable when you’re attending university, getting married, choosing a career, relocating or thinking about starting a family—and I’ve done all of these things within the space of a few short years. Those around you want you succeed, and for you to avoid making the same mistakes they did. People are desperate to share tips from their own experiences. And this is where an all too common problem arises.

No matter how much you have in common with someone, your life experiences are not going to mirror theirs exactly. And even if you do have similar families, careers or interests, their preferences might be entirely different. You’re vegetarian? Perhaps they prefer to eat meat. You want to send your children to private school? Maybe they’re thinking about homeschooling. You might simply have completely different thoughts on the best type of cleaning product to use for getting mould off the bath. Having different preferences and life experiences doesn’t mean that you can’t be friends with someone. But it does mean that your advice might not be at all relevant to them.

                                      

I married young. I read romance novels. I want to be a stay-at-home-mother. I don’t buy premade pasta sauce. I like to air-dry my washing. I don’t wear make-up. I love red wine. I fail miserably at trying to keep a diary. Perhaps we have some of these things in common. Or maybe none at all.

I could link you to half a dozen articles telling you why all of the above are things that you should be doing, explaining the benefits of making your own pasta sauce and not wearing make-up. But all those articles would succeed in doing is cementing my own belief that I’m doing the right thing for me. And that’s who these things are best for: Me. If you want to buy your own pasta sauce and wait until you’ve established your career before you marry, and you’re happy with those decisions, then good for you. I’m not going to try to convince you to do things my way because I know all too well that doing something simply because it’s what others recommend often doesn’t yield the best results.

If you want advice on getting married or writing a novel or even the best laundry detergent to use, I can tell you what works best for me, but that doesn’t mean that following my example will guarantee happiness for anyone else.

This semester I’ve been endeavouring not to push my opinions on anyone or offer advice before someone asks for it. I’m still learning, so please be patient with me. But if you need someone to be a non-judgemental sounding board, I hope this is a role I can fulfil.

I’m not going to be offering advice in this blog. Just because I ramble on about why I love linseed or air-drying doesn’t mean that I think anyone else should take up my habits—unless they want to, of course. I’d just like to talk about the things that are important to me, and let people know what’s been going on in my life. And if we happen to have something in common, isn’t that fantastic? But if you offer me advice on how to do a certain activity better—whether it’s novel-writing or deciding when to start a family—please don’t be offended if I don’t follow your advice. As much as I appreciate everyone’s desire to help each other be the best that they can be, sometimes your best is very different from someone else’s. And that’s perfectly okay.