Selling

Woken early this morning by a phone call from the woman who bought my coffee table on eBay. Can she collect it next week? Sure. Then I got her family history. Yawns.

Selling my furniture is so stressful. I stress because it’s not selling, then get upset when it does. I fantasize about finding a place to live and buying a bed, desk and chair. I do not intend to get weighed down by all these things again.

Published the second book yesterday and so today is an anti-climax. Sending an ‘all-friends’ email and that will be it for now. I hope it sells. In some ways it is rehearsal for the big book to come. Now I know I can maintain an idea and themes over thirty thousand words, I can see how easy it will be to write 60 thousand words or more. Now this book is out, I can get my head around my new characters and see what they want to say to me. It really is a mystical process. I had read articles by other writers who said your characters will talk to you, but never imagined that they would do it to me. The bottom line is about growing a real sense of self belief. I have to make a living and I have to really believe I can do it by writing. Let’s hope that belief does not get lost in the struggle to stay afloat.

England is going to be a strange place to me now. I get quite afraid that the sheer number of people will make me panic. Anyone turns a TV on in an enclosed space and I am a screaming wreck in minutes. Why has a medium that can be so wonderful and fascinating turned out to be so crass and irritating. It truly is an ‘idiot’ box. I guess it’s because I understand the lies and manipulation that goes on.

Clocks went to summer time today. It’s hot and sticky but I intend to enjoy the warmth while I still have it. I fear I shall be really unhappy without it.