Monthly Archives: September 2009

This should be interesting.(Place the emphasis where you will.)

So, yeah,  in attempt to get my be-lamed brain up and working whilst Journo-world appears to have neatly stored my ideas under B1N in the filing cabinet of doom, I have to write SOMETHING.  I am guessing this blog  will be much like the blog of any (every)one else that is/wants/assumes they are a writer and like the inherantly egomaniac we all are feels only justified in producing something if it gets read by some (any) one else.  So I am wondering – who’s going to enter a google search and be unlucky enough to end up bored by this?* I’m sure that if you bear with me it will start getting interesting…but for the time being I am going to write one thing a day about being an unemployed professional and post it. This hand-based diversion to a keyboard will stop me eating myself to death. And for that, I give thanks.

Today:Everyone starts with PlanB

Everyfreelancer should have a Plan B (because obviously being JK Rowling is their plan A). Ah-ha! But NOT so that they feel that if Plan A fails they still have something to spend their lives doing, but so that they are motivated by every bone in their body*** TO AVOID PLAN B AT ALL COSTS. You shouldn’t have an attractive Plan B. It should be shit, and badly paid, and the sort of thing that when you tell people it’s your Plan B they either (a) start crying on your behalf (b) set up a charity in your honour so that, if at all possible Plan B cannot be allowed to happen to you or (c) start panicking about whether they have a Plan B coming to get them. I was talking with my friend on Skype the other night and it would appear that one of the best Anti-PlanB remedies is getting up the duff. Then you have something that stops you having to revert to plan B for the rest of your breathing, metabolising days.  This Blog? I am avoiding Plan B.

My Plan B?

I can’t even begin to descibe it *shudder*

[TODAYS FOOTNOTES]

*I am allowed 3 writing cliches per day. That was the first. (Hopefully) Self-deprication – lamest cliche in the book**

**Christ, I’m racing through them here.

***a lazy choice.

theweemo