A REAL Day in the Life of an Author or Why did I waste a whole day on Facebook?

I once wrote a post like this for a guest spot I believe. A Day in the Life of… It was all LIES. I believe I even tried to put across that I actually had a life outside of writing, which of course, I don’t, but I didn’t want to sound so sad.

Here is how my day truly goes:

5.55am Alarm goes off. Lie there for 5 minutes and fight dog for bed space while scrolling through Facebook. Already feel inadequate when I see someone releasing their sixth book of the year.

6.00am Deal with animals. Turn on laptop. Bash out 1000 words while still half asleep. This will be the best work of the day.

6.30am Make kids and hubby’s lunches. Tackle one chore for the day while there’s no interruptions. Wake up family. Cups of tea all round.

7.00am Get dressed, try to look like a respectable member of society. Cajole children into getting dressed. Fail to get hubby out of bed. Run around like a madwoman trying to squeeze three days of chores into one morning as can’t function in messy house.

8.25am Usher kids and dog out door having just about fed and dressed them and coaxed husband out of bed.

9.00am Have some vague kind of breakfast–usually some horrible ‘greens’ drink which I’m secretly convinced keeps my muse going. Bash out another 1k.

10.00 am Have a nap.

11.30 am. Wake up from nap and ponder story. Realise the stuff I wrote at 9.00am was terrible. Go into panic. Change plot in head. Start to make lunch with a heavy heart, dreading opening the laptop again and seeing what rubbish I wrote.

12.00 pm Eat lunch, check emails. Answer emails, send off review copies, post on Facebook, answer more emails. Create a banner for new release. Create a teaser for new release. Put together a media kit for new release. Book ads for new release. Consider re-opening Twitter account then realise it’s pointless and boring and I have too many things on my plate already.

1.00pm See horrible review. Suffer from crippling doubt and decide to give up writing forever. Message friends for comfort. Receive comfort but are convinced they’re only saying it to be nice and they think you’re crap too. Have discussion about what terrible writers we are before talking ourselves out of it. Wonder how some authors never seem fazed by anything.

2.00pm Write some stuff at a snail’s pace. Smack head against table. Curse characters for not doing what I want. Consider another career. Browse Facebook and suffer from more doubt when fellow author is at number one for whatever category. What am I doing wrong? It must be because I’m crap.

3.00pm Do more chores because somehow the house got messy even though I was either sleeping, Facebooking or writing.

4.00pm Walk dog and collect children. Feed them, feed animals, do homework. More admin stuff. Blog posts to write. Emails to answer. Website to update.

5.00 pm Start cooking dinner. Clean up yet more mess and do yet more chores.

More Facebook. Suffer crippling jealously when I see a friend at a cool convention I’ll never go to because a) The general public aren’t ready for me and b) I can’t afford to fly to the US where all the cool stuff happens.

6.00 pm Burn dinner after inspiration finally takes hold and I frantically bash out whatever I can.

7.00 pm Clear up burnt dinner. Put kids to bed. Have a bath. Vaguely acknowledge husband. Look at cats on Facebook and beta read story for friend while worrying I’ll seem too harsh. Read a Buzz feed post about authors, nod along and swear I’ll be more productive from now on. (Insert self-doubt/guilt here)

9.00 pm Husband starts getting annoyed and making growling sounds from the couch. Why can’t my work day end at 5.00 pm like normal people? he asks. Reluctantly leave WIP and try to make an effort to behave like a normal human being whose work day has ended.

11.00pm Bed. Lie in bed for an hour or two plotting story or going through all the things I didn’t achieve. Mentally pen all the emails I didn’t write.

2.00am Amazing idea for story! Must write it down!!!