Diary of a Struggling Writer

Forget all notions that being a struggling writer is glamorous... Looking in my fridge and seeing just some moldy cheese and some sour milk to keep me going through the day, and a dozen writing projects waiting to be completed, when I can hardly raise a finger - yeah, not even to pastor Terry Jones.

Nod my head wearily to Led Zeppelin's Babe I'm Gonna Leave You, but she did. Didn't stick around once the electric went off. Embarrassing, fumbling around in the dark and opening the front day by mistake - starkers. "Hello there, Mrs. Jackson..."

Pulling My Own Teeth

So you want to be a writer, and embrace all the ups and down which come with it? Looks good in the movies. All those Bohemian types. Always good looking, of course. No do it yourself dentistry for them, I'm sure. My pulled teeth are like old friends. I keep them in the fridge, too.

When someone comes round, and they need to use the toilet (or, as you Americans call it, the john), it can get a bit awkward when I say that there's a bucket outside. Don't know what they're complaining about, as who has to clear it up?

I'm not that big on washing to tell you the truth. Don't really see the point. The cats tend to wash me anyway, so no need to anyway. They can be busy for hours, but I'm sure it gives 'em satisfaction.

Stuck Down a Well for 5 Days

If I get bored I like to admire the rising damp, and wonder how it got there. One of the mysteries of life. When I go and get my water from the well I curse the wet stuff sometimes. I once fell in, and was there for five days. Plenty of time to write at least.

But I love writing. It sustains me - even if it barely feeds me. I sometimes don't have a pen to write with, so I will scrape out bits of coal with a twig and try and use the coal dust as replacement ink, but then when I've done that I often find that I don't have any paper.

Oh, I made all this up, but some writers do have it this hard, so remember them the next time your work gets rejected!