1. The clock. Seven more hours in every day would be just about perfect.
2. The fridge. The siren call.
3. The pram in the hall. So rude to shout “will you please shut up and go away!” to your only child. But so necessary.
4. The market. As in, the book market. As in, “Have you thought about writing a series? Marketing thinks it’s a brilliant idea.”
5. The pets. Why can’t they walk themselves? Surely they know how to get to the park by now.
6. The blog. (For anyone who doesn’t blog, I feel I should reveal that I have a graph that tells me how many people have come to visit each day. The downward dip of the graph is like the snap of a whip. Blog more! Blog faster!)
7. The book. There are days I would cheerfully chop it off at the knees and shove it in a hole if I thought I could get away with it.
8. Rage. I could write a whole long explanation about rage, but if you’re a writer, you’ll know what I mean.
Coming soon to this blog! The Writer’s Friends!
9. The despair? Related to rage, only with less energy, and more chocolate and sitting-in-front-of-the-telly-convinced-that-it’s-the-end-of-all-your-writing-ever.
Ah yes. The despair. VERY related to rage.
The pets love you. That’s why.
Blog readers are a difficult lot. The more flippant the post, the more readers.
Now you tell me. I haven’t been able to figure out a pattern at all. The weirdest most unexpected posts seem to be popular. Go figure…..
This is hilarious:
7. The book. There are days I would cheerfully chop it off at the knees and shove it in a hole if I thought I could get away with it.
Thank you – I think having feelings like this is one of the best kept secrets of this profession, since people on the outside tend to think we work in a state of trippy magical bliss, or if not – much more romantic sounding angst.
Need a dog walker, let me know, I miss my old dog Solly (1985 – 2002 RIP)
Pip.
OOOH. Don’t tempt me, Pip. You don’t live in Highbury, by any chance?
Very interesting. But you missed one: noise – neighbours, street noises, building works (tick all 3 and you are fit to be tied. And, yes, I do know whereof I speak & am grinding teeth as I type).
Blogging is weird: utterly unpredictable – unless you’re in a popular sector, ie: latest book reviews/politics/mummies/my-fabulous-vineyard or chateau or castello or croft+entire island/my brave battle against X, Y or Z [NB 'X, Y or Z' must be vile and/or evil while blogger remains completely wonderful at all times - conspicuously, even blatantly, so]. Even then, traffic varies enormously.
I’ve seen some vg bloggers drop out because of what is essentially – and to me mystifyingly – lack of attention. And many of the more successful personal bloggers seem to have shameless manipulation down to a fine art – which, for the cynical bag tendancy (oh, all right then: me), does nothing but elicit rude words & gestures followed by rapid retreat, never to return.
Ann/BookWitch’s point is interesting; but then, I think, people less prone to comment on posts that seem complete (author interviews, forex), which might explain more comments on less overtly serious or meaty ones.
Finally, at risk of heresy/impertinence: blogging more but less often could be worth trying, no? Make us laugh (tick), cry (if you must, bah!) – but make us wait …?
Oh, very controversial Minnie. LESS often? I think the key to blogging is to like doing it. I like doing it, though I started because my publisher suggested it. And I like doing it in short bursts (personally, I prefer a short blog — but then I prefer short books and sentences too…) I suppose if my readership dropped off, or fell in a perfect straight slope, I’d quit. As it is, I’m going to keep going. For now…..
‘Controversial’, moi? Nah, don’t think so.
But not meant to be offensive/discouraging. Do keep on keeping going – and bon courage.