As I sit here at midnight on Sunday starting to write my first blog post with my other
half asking me where the remote control is and my 14 month year old daughter shrieking
and fighting her sleep,the last thought of panic ( clothes to iron for work tomorrow and my
eldest returns to school from the dreaded half term ) emerges. I then think to myself if I
barely have time to do this, a simple blog post to vent out my frustrations on line.
How the fuck will I ever have time to complete a novel ?
Forget agents, publishers, wanna-be-novelist competitions and the fast growing news
that chick-lit is on its way out. What is a girl to do when the demands of bottle making,
tedious morning meetings, school plays and fast food serving barely leave enough time
for a daily count of 49 words, if that.
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