I suppose that writing is much the same as any other industry, inasmuch as it’s about marketing and selling a commodity. The problem as far as I’m concerned is that that commodity is me. And I am very very shit at selling myself. I half suspect that I should be drawing up corporately inspired fluff such as mission statements, career trajectories, six monthly action plans, blah de blah. However, last time I looked I wasn’t a corporation – I’m the equivalent of a small, overstocked second hand bookshop run by an eye-spinning drunk.
With the above in mind, perhaps it’s a good thing to confront whatever it is that frightens the absolute bejaysus out of you – with this in mind, here’s my attempt at an action plan for 2008 (my current one is scribbled on the back of a Poundland receipt for four cans of Kestrel lager).
* Hang in at METLAB until I get hospitalised.
* Consider exchanging my 5 string Warwick bass for something with 4 strings. When you’re playing acoustically, you can’t hear that big ass low end at all, which rather makes that fifth string redundant. I looked at an acoustic bass this year, but it seemed vaguely hippyish, so that idea got knocked on the head very quickly. Perhaps it’s about time I opted for the double bass - a real man's instrument.
* Finally bring myself to watch Shooter, if only for the fact that my nephew can then remove it to a place where it can’t do any lasting harm.
* Go for that elusive 50 press-up mark. Currently on 44 before I have to go to hospital to have my heart re-started.
* Get something into BBC Writersroom along with 10,000,000 other hopefuls.
And on that ambition-free note, Happy New Year! See you on the other side...
The Death Star problem
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