erastes

You wake late, full of self-loathing, at some point between Woman's Hour and The World at One. When you eventually settle down to your desk, after the first instalment of Neighbours, you waste the rest of the afternoon alternating between pressing refresh on your Amazon ratings (and those of your rivals) and checking your inbox, in the hope that the email promising lucrative Hollywood contracts has finally arrived.

At 6pm you get dressed, just after the second instalment of Neighbours. And then, if you’re lucky, you might squeeze in an hour’s work before going out for the evening and drinking away your miserable existence with money you don’t have out of the pitiful advance that you’ve already spent.

Two years later, the book appears, and someone who’s paid considerably more than you dismisses your 80,000 words with 800 of their own, thereby enhancing their career and ruining yours.

Oh Dear. It’s too true to be funny. Excellent article on Writers vs Reviewers.