Freelancing started yesterday. Brilliantly, at an appointment to register my intent to have a civil partnership first thing in the morning, I had just cause to state “freelance journalist” – with some glee – as my career. That’s going to go down in yer actual history books, to be uncovered by famous descendants of mine in far-off editions of Who Do You Think You Are?
So, yes, freelancing started yesterday. Except these next three weeks are, strictly, my holiday – despite the fact that I’ve already written a feature today, and ummed and ahhed over possibly taking up some writing shifts, too. The point is: I’m no longer in gainful employment, and now it’s a matter of considering things like The Novel. But, last night, I had a momentarily crushing experience at the hands of Simon, who had come round to interview me about some of my writing work for a forthcoming book.
As we chatted after dinner (oh, yes – I’d also cooked him dinner, to ensure a favourable write-up in the finished manuscript), I was talking about the prime motivating factor behind me having jacked in a very lucrative, secure job at the country’s best-selling magazine for life on the breadline as a freelance sub editor and writer. That factor is Darkland by Liz Williams. Let me explain…
I resigned at the start of May, but had been seriously considering leaving full-time work since the previous November. In November, I’d done all the maths and had the discussions with Jon, but was in a furiously bad mood about work at the time and decided it was not wise to do anything rashly. So, I decided to stick with it. But all the problems remained. At the start of 2005, I had decided to call a halt to more creative work while the job had seemed interesting and promising, but none of those interesting promises actually came to anything. I was left with no time on my hands for writing, and the tiring, relentless nature of the job ensured that I wanted to keep any free time I did have very much free.
So, that day in May, quite apropos of nothing, I just decided, ‘Now is the time…’ and handed in my notice. Well, it was almost apropos of nothing. I think the final straw was that Liz Williams book. I’d just finished reading it, and had enjoyed it immensely: it’s a glorious, mad, mystical, scary, gripping sci-fi thriller, and I’d hugely recommend it to just about anyone. It’s a great book… but not some imposingly insurmountable monolith of literature. Also, it wasn’t the kind of ‘girders in space’ SF that I hate. On reading and enjoying it, I thought, “Now this I can do.” I think that was it – a moment of inspiration, a sudden realisation that there was only one way I’d ever find the time to do what I’ve always wanted to do, and…
And now here I am, with bookings through the rest of the year, and a very helpful features editor feeding me valuable tidbits. It’s a set-up for what looks like being a successful first few months as a freelancer. Hopefully, less pressure and responsibility to go with it, and a great deal more free time for writing. So far, so good.
But then, in conversation with Simon last night, I was outlining some of the ideas behind what I’d like to be the novel I write over the coming months. Once done, I said, “But it needs a decent main character involved in all this, and I’m just bereft of ideas…”
To which, he came back with just the most wonderful, most fitting idea – one which, if he doesn’t mind, I’m going to fully incorporate. He reeled it off, too; there was no agonising over the details, it was just “and he’s this, and this, and this…”
I just blinked, and lamented the fact that I used to be like that, I could just run off story and character ideas at the drop of a hat. Has my five years in that last job really blunted my imagination that much? I expect it probably has. As Simon said, these things will return with practice (which is quite an exciting thought in itself – to have the time and space to do such practice again), but in the meantime I’m finding imaginitive, creative writing bloody hard work.
But then, I’m not really complaining. I mean, how many other people are lucky enough to have the opportunities and supportive network to do what I’m doing?
So, that’s where I am and why I’m there, if you were wondering – and it’s also why I’ve set up this blog. It’s practice, using writing muscles that really do feel like they’ve withered away to nearly nothing. I have no idea where this new freelance life will lead me, nor whether any of my more ambitious thoughts will come to anything, but that’s what makes this new phase in my life feel so damn exciting.
And here’s to what happens next.
