Living as a writer. That’s the dream. A book or two out there being read by real people, a multi-book contract with a real publisher. It all sounds so exotic, surreal. To die for, daahling.

Here’s the thing… I’m living the dream but my life somehow missed the memo. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it read it, had a good chuckle, scrunched it up and aimed at the bin. And missed. 

So my plan is to throw back the curtains on just what an average #writerslife looks like. Here’s #1.

Slept 5 hours last night. Chasing words, you ask? Er, no. Gluing sequins and bathing in glitter to make a mask for my 15yo’s school dance tonight. My hands won’t come clean. Look-

You should see my lounge. Kiddo is happy, so it’s all good.