We brought this drop dead gorgeous Tasmanian pinot noir back from our trip last year, and had kept it at a balmy controlled 13 degrees in our wine fridge since. We had a few things to celebrate this weekend so we felt it was as good a time as any to crack open the Pooley. With a Bee Gees album spinning on the record player and this wine in my glass, I half expected my dad to walk in from the garden. Such is life, with your heart in two places, in the blossom of spring and the bramble of autumn.
I hope your weekend is full of delicious things.
even against the odds
I wrote a lot - and learned a lot - while I interned at Cosmopolitan UK nearly five years ago. Even though I did Fifty Shades-style workouts, made pasta like a pro and even got to see the Iceman in South Tyrol, this story is still the one I'm most proud of.
This year's London Marathon is on Sunday and I remember both my own race in 2011 and Anna and Vicky's incredible feat of running from Paris to London (eight marathons in eight days!) to celebrate life and raise awareness for a good cause with lots of fondness and pride.
Read their story here and make sure you scroll down to the bottom to see the video interview with Vicky and Anna (I am the silent interviewer....crying silent tears!)
I really love revisiting this story every now and then. You really are stronger than you think. And even when you think it's the end, it's really not. There's always a way forward.
how to go freelance without losing your mind
I get asked about freelancing all the time so figured this would be a very useful post to do!
In this day and age, where you can't really open any magazine without seeing a story about someone who's quit their desk job to give their dream a shot, working an office job has almost become unfashionable, a symbol of "selling out".
I really don't agree with that.
I used to, admittedly, as I laboured at my desk jobs in my twenties, dreaming of nothing more than being my own boss, with days to fill as I planned, writing bestselling novels and hard-hitting journalism, even hopping along to a yoga class in my lunch break without needing to be back within the hour, without someone else's agenda to bend to on a constant basis.
But when I started freelancing full time after a well-timed redundancy I learned that, whether it's writing, baking cupcakes or yoga, the minute you start doing it full time, it becomes work. And like any job, it will have its moments of driving you absolutely up the wall.
I don't freelance full time right now - a good opportunity came along for me to go in house, which I've really enjoyed - but I learned a great deal in the two years that I did do it (mostly) full time. In many ways I took it for granted and wish I could do it again but right now I'm really enjoying the benefits and freedom, comparatively speaking, that an in-house position offers too.
I learned so many things as a freelancer, but I think the biggest one was that it's not for the fainthearted. It's really not easy to maintain a consistent level of enthusiasm without the brace of a 9-5 job to keep yourself upright, both financially and in other ways. You need structure and stability to survive the rather grab-bag life of a freelancer and figure out over time the ways that you best keep yourself motivated, sane and forward-thinking.
So here is what worked for me - at least most of the time - and certainly things I wish I had known or figured out sooner. I can't promise that these tips will lead to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow but I hope they're a good starting point at the very least.
Be discerning
I read somewhere (I can't remember where, sorry!) that a freelance gig should be at least two of the following three things:
1. A great opportunity.
2. Financially worth your while.
3. Good exposure.
Ideally it should be all three. But apply this "two out of three" test to any job that comes your way - it really helps, especially in the beginning.
Get a steady and reliable source of income from somewhere
Lack of regular income is probably the most stressful thing about freelancing. Freaking out about money will not help you produce your best work and it can lead to you making questionable decisions or taking a gig that's not a good fit purely to keep money coming in. Every freelancer I've spoken to has done it so don't feel bad!
The way I solved this problem was getting a part time job, two days a week, and I would really recommend this. It doesn't have to be related to your work, it can just be two shifts a week down at your local Tesco. It just has to be steady and reliable income from somewhere, so you can bank on at least some money coming in each month.
I got a two day a week editing job, covering someone on maternity leave. It was fantastic. I got to go to an office two days a week, I got stimulation and interaction with others, I did work that I was good at (a much needed confidence boost) and I also got to build my skill set.
Get out of the house
Staying at home all day, every day, does start to turn you a bit loopy. If at all possible (if you're a designer or something like that where you need specialist non-portable equipment it might be harder) try to spend at least 50 per cent of your working week outside of your home. Some people invest in a studio space which they share with others. I couldn't afford that so working in a coffee shop or a library (when I couldn't afford coffees) was a god send. Not only did I get a nice walk in to wherever I'd decided would be my office for the day, but I'd interact with other human beings as well - I was getting sick of talking to myself and the plants!
NB: with coffee shops, go early, say between 9am and 11am, and then take a break and come back after lunch when it's less busy. You can't just get one coffee and sit there all day!
This leads on nicely to my next point which is...
Find out what times of day you work best and optimise them
This is your chance to actually work at hours that suit you, that you feel you're at your best at. Most writers I know are early-birds (Andrea Eames, who I interviewed for my podcast, gets up at 5am every day) but I certainly was not. However, I found that if I forced myself to keep usual office hours - ie: be at the desk by 9:00am every day - I usually was very productive. As time went on I found the hours before midday did tend to be the most inspiring for me so I would make sure I got up every morning with my husband, make us coffee while he got ready, go for a quick run or walk once he left for work, and then get down to business by 9:00am each day.
I also recommend deciding on a set time that you work and try to stick to it. It's so easy for freelance work to eat into hours after 8pm and beyond. It can be especially difficult if you're a creative and can't always control when inspiration strikes, but write down your ideas after "office hours" and that way you'll have something to start with when you next clock on. Working all the time not only turns you into a bit of a hermit but it can also be isolating for your partner as well.
Start your own platform
One of the hardest things about freelancing, particularly in the beginning, is being either rejected or ignored much of the time. You start to feel a bit small and useless. The way I combatted this was by starting my own platform to make connections with people I admired rather than being in the cycle of pitching all the time, which really helped boost my confidence. So if you are trying to get a piece published in a magazine or vying to be interviewed for a particular podcast....why not start your own instead? Like anything you'll have to stick with it but it's always worth a try.
Keep fit
This, I found, was crucial. Lisa Jewell goes to the gym every day, Andrea Eames also told me she runs most days....I found getting daily exercise to be a real motivator, as well something to help keep the Freelance Fifteen (or whatever term you want to apply to freelance related weight gain) away! During a period of particuarly low confidence with my work, I trained for three half marathons. Doing that kind of training reminded me of the value of persistence, setting a goal and just bloody well showing up. Keeping your body healthy tends to keep your mind healthy as well. It kept the demons at bay. I recommend it.
Other random lessons about freelancing that I've learned:
Show me the money.
This was something I hated doing - chasing people for money or having to ask potential clients whether they were intending to pay me for the work they'd asked me to do. It's so awkward, I know, but you've got to get over it. This is business. This is your business. Don't be flattered they've thought of you and just assume they will pay you. If you skirt around this subject at the beginning of a transaction it will bite you in the arse later on, trust me. Unless it's your mum or a friend to whom you owe a massive favour, do not do ANY work for anyone until you have asked about renumeration. If you get the whole "we don't have the budget to pay you" line, then you make the call as to whether it's worth doing for free (some things are).
Be bold.
I know it's uncomfortable, but you have to be able to blow your own trumpet a little bit and, when approaching people, tell them all the cool things you've done and why they should take you on. Self promotion needs to become second nature and, despite your concerns to the contrary, you certainly can do it without being a jerk. Seriously, editors/CEOs/your potential clients are busy people. They need to know very quickly why you are the best person to write that article/be their new intern/design their website. If you don't ask, you won't get and, more to the point, you won't be on anyone's radar - which is crucial to making your freelancing career work.
Do what you say you'll do.
If you tell someone you will email them/phone them/be at their office first thing Monday, always follow through. Use every contact you have. And strike while the iron is hot and contact editors/PR people while they will still remember you from that launch/shindig/dark pub.
Motivation is not a dirty word.
The buck stops with you so you've got to keep yourself going here. Your partner and your friends can only do so much. Keep yourself accountable. Be disciplined. Change your routine, and often. Surround yourself with inspiration. I often started the day by watching a TED talk or listening to a podcast - anything that would fire me up and get me thinking "yeah, I can do this!"
But tax is.
There's no way around this really but to be as organised as possible. If you aren't sure what code you should be on, ring the tax office and ask. Pay your quarterly NI contributions (or whatever the equivalent is in your country) on time. Keep all your receipts. Have a filing system so you know where everything is. And for the love of God, don't wait until the week before the cut-off to file your return! The Guardian has an excellent article about how to manage your finances, particularly tax, as a freelancer.
Obviously I've only really scratched the surface here, but if you want more advice and inspiration, I think one of the best blogs on freelance life, with heaps of practical advice and insights, is Kim Lawler. I love her work.
I think working freelance has so much going for it - flexibility, self-determination, creative control - but I also think having an in-house 9-5 job has many benefits too. Like everything in life, you've got to do what works best for you and never be afraid of making changes if things aren't working out as you hoped. There's more than one road and they all lead to Rome, baby!
I hope you found this useful. If you're a freelancer, what are your tips for staying sane and productive?
how I started running again
As most of you would know, I run for beer! :)
On Sunday I ran the RunThrough.co.uk Finsbury Park 10k race. It was -4 degrees, I ran with about four layers on, wasn't able to keep my no-toilet-break record, and stopped to walk twice, but I finished! And that was all I wanted.
It’s been a strange couple of years for me. Full of incredible highs, but equally full of lows. Stress, anxiety, grief, burnout…. they certainly make life less fun. They rob you of the ability to see the bigger picture. My wellbeing/self-care is always the first to suffer when I feel like that. But the desire to run, to keep up the kind of training I'd been doing, had completely left me, After years of running a half marathon every weekend, I was exhausted and needed a break.
That's not to say I've not gone running since then - but it's been jogs round the block when I could be bothered, really. But until Sunday I hadn't run a proper race since 2013. Sunday was my first 10k in all that time.
I started running again last year. Once a week, with a group at work. I was in a very apathetic place, very much with a can't-be-fucked-what's-the-point mindset, but figured once a week was better than nothing. Most weeks I managed between 4 and 5k on those runs. It wasn’t a marathon, but, as I say, better than nothing.
I spent so much of last year feeling utterly drained, unable to move forward. Spending such a long time in the company of your past takes a real toll on your sense of self, I discovered. I spent a lot of last year wondering who the hell I was any more. Things that used to be so easy for me were suddenly REALLY BIG THINGS. Like going to parties where I didn’t know anyone. Like writing. Like running. Those things used to excite me, give me energy. But now I NEEDED energy to do them. It was exhausting, frustrating and left me in a bit of a heap.
2017 is only 26 days old but I’ve already bought new running shoes, done two park runs, my standard run with my work running group is now 6k and now I’ve done my first 10k race in nearly 4 years.
Six years ago, almost to the day, I had just started training for the London marathon. I was doing 10ks before breakfast. So you might think it’s a bit disheartening to only be doing 5ks and 10ks considering how fit I used to be. But it’s really not. I feel so happy, so grateful, to be running again I don't care about the distances. I just want to run. It's part of who I am. Something I didn't realise until I wasn't doing it any more.
My life has been a series of ebbs and flows, ups and downs. You can’t have one without the other. The story I shared in The Latte Years keeps going. I’m not the same person who went through all those highs and lows in the book – I’m not even the same person who wrote it, a mere two years ago. I’m a work in progress, always. I’m (still) learning that when life gets a bit much, as it does for all of us, not to let go of the things that take a bit more effort than sitting on the couch with Netflix and crisps, because it's those things that truly light me up from the inside.
Returning to running - not just a jog here and there when I could be bothered - has been marvellous. Not just the joy of being physically active and pushing my body beyond its comfort zone, but I’m remembering how to be my own cheerleader. I’m remembering how important it is just to show up and give it a go - you don't have to be the best, just do YOUR best. How important it is to just run your own race and not worry about what other people are doing, how much further ahead they may or may not be. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my good health, for the ability to run at all. I have been reminded that negative thinking, in running and in life, is a luxury I simply cannot afford.
Most of all, thanks to running, I feel more like myself than I have felt in a very long time.
PS: I totally signed up for that 10k because of the medal. Isn't it beautiful?
i must begin again: a writing retreat in norwich
Serving suggestion for this post: sitting comfortably either with a cup of tea you've just made or on a train that isn't going anywhere.
Years ago, when I was writing the earliest drafts of what eventually became The Latte Years, I would often house-sit for friends for a few days when the opportunity arose, relishing a house as empty as my schedule, where I could completely dedicate myself to writing, away from the daily grind of life. Of course, when you have a deadline and only three months to deliver 100,000 words around a full time job, you suck it up and get it done. But the idea of time – a few days completely free of your usual routine and obligations, stretching out in front of you – to do that work is a really precious and luxurious thing.
I have done wonderful guided writing retreats before, and if money were no object I’d do them far more often. There’s a lot to be said for the motivation of a group setting and an experienced, inspiring teacher to spur you on. But the empty home of a kind friend or relative for a few days does just as well, and is utter bliss for the creative person.
A bit over a month ago, I went to Norwich to a sweet little cottage to house-sit, keep my aunt’s plants watered, to write and recalibrate.
I have a few projects on the go at the moment – the biggest one being what I hope will be Book 2 – but they had all been lacking much-needed momentum. About six months ago, in the midst of the bleak end of winter, I decided I would go away on my own a few days at some point over the summer, to see if I could find that missing ingredient. With all the highs and lows 2016 had delivered so far, I needed to reconnect with myself and my creative practice, without the distractions of daily life providing endless justifications for putting things off, for not making time.
Unfortunately that week at the end of July I had come down with a nasty throat infection, so on the train journey up from London I mostly sipped hot tea, read Oh Comely magazine and eavesdropped on interesting conversations happening all around me. All things I enjoy doing, sore throat or not! But I was unsure as to whether the weekend would be as productive as I’d hoped, given how poorly I was feeling. Many of the businessmen around me were drinking whisky. I considered joining them, I was sure it would help my throat.
Travelling essentials.
I arrived safely, fell on the empty house with gratitude and relief, and went to bed early. I was up with the sun the next day – a rhythm I settled into for the rest of the retreat. Each day began with black coffee made in the moka pot on the stove, sipped in the garden, where toasty warm sunshine beat down on my shoulders, bees and butterflies floated among the flowers and the coffee slowly warmed my sore throat, dry and raw from coughing.
I walked into Norwich city centre nearly every day, mostly to treat myself to a second coffee at Gosling and Guzman. “The secret to a happy life is continuous small treats,” said Iris Murdoch in her novel The Sea, The Sea, which I happened to be reading, so I took it as a sign to get a cinnamon bun too.
Lovely coffee and buns at Gosling and Guzman. And their takeaway cups are so pretty!
I was alone for the whole time, but not lonely. I slipped easily into solitude, wearing it like a comfy familiar sweater. No television, no internet, no email, no social media. Text messages were the only contact I allowed myself with the outside world. It was amazing to realise how disciplined I could be and simply not look at social media – I disabled all notifications so it was simply a matter of not allowing my finger to touch the icon, though it gravitated automatically whenever my phone was in my hand, much to my curiosity. It’s definitely far more of a habit and a distraction than I realised.
Otherwise, I gave everything my full attention – not just my writing, but books I read, music that kept me company, food I cooked. Choosing to focus, to tune out the usual constant distractions, it was incredible how much more I noticed and took in, savouring everything from the peppery depths of my watercress soup and subtle key changes in the music I was playing, to the smell of the air, the way light changed and the burn of hot tea in my sore throat.
Watercress soup - probably *the* best thing you can eat when trying to recalibrate, it completely detoxifies the body! And it's so yummy. I made Sarah Wilson's recipe in I Quit Sugar For Life.
I did yoga daily, something I haven’t done for a few years. Pigeon pose was incredibly comforting. I spent an entire Ludovico Einaudi song in uttanasana. I did my favourite episodes of Lacey Haynes’ Home Yoga Retreat many times.
I sat with my thoughts a lot, my journal open and a pen beside me, to scribble down anything worth remembering.
Sometimes I just sat and watched the light change. The light inside the house was very soft and as it hit the table and my piles of books, it looked milky, like when paint brushes are dipped into a jar of water. My iPhone camera didn't quite capture it so I just watched and took a picture with my mind instead.
I wrote a lot. Not the sort of things I thought I would write, interestingly. As the second day dawned, it became clear to me that this retreat was less about coming away with something to show for myself (which, if you've been reading me for a while, you know I enjoy) and more about getting my groove back.
Snapped while walking the quiet streets of Norwich city centre, sipping coffee. It seemed apt!
Why did I lose my groove though? I wondered in my more melancholy moments. I didn’t think I’d feel like this. Why do I feel so empty, when my dream has come true? I wrote. Why do I feel so exhausted and, if I’m honest, sad? How did I go from so pumped, disciplined and motivated to can’t-be-fucked and what’s-the-point?
And then I re-read Dani Shapiro’s masterpiece, which I highly recommend to any writer, Still Writing. I found it such a comfort last year, where I mostly read the “Endings” section. This time, the “Beginnings” section was far more resonant. Reading this paragraph was like a warm reassuring hug:
When I’m between books, I feel as if I will never have another story to tell. The last book has wiped me out, has taken everything from me, everything I understand and feel and know and remember, and…that’s it. There’s nothing left. A low level depression sets in. The world hides its gifts from me. It has taken me years to recognise that this feeling, the one of the well being empty, is as it should be. It means I’ve spent everything. And so I must begin again.
If you have done your job…you’ve thrown your whole heart into this. And now your job is done. And you are bereft.
I wanted to cry as I read this. I had spent months thinking there was something wrong with me. My whole body flooded with relief that another writer, let alone one I deeply admire, felt this way too.
I gave The Latte Years everything I had. So indeed, that has been the feeling, even though I have so many other ideas and stories I want to explore, over the last six months or so - that I had nothing left, both to say nor the capacity to say it. The Latte Years had been a part of my life for a long time – scratch that, it was my life, literally! - that being without it has been very strange. It's only been recently, staring down the barrel of October, that the tunnel has had light in it again.
The first draft of what became the book that was published in January this year was started in 2010. It wasn’t necessarily the story I wanted to tell, but the one I had to. It was bossy and barged to the front of the queue. Me first, it demanded. It was a story that had been hanging around ever since the events of it had taken place, a story that had me by the throat and wouldn’t let go until I told it. I knew attempting to write anything else in the meantime would be fruitless – and indeed, it was. And now it is done.
So what ended up happening on this retreat was nothing earth-shattering, just a lot of journaling and several short pieces of fiction. Because after years and years of my writing being about this one thing, I am finding my feet again. It’s strange, like what I imagine training for another marathon might be like. I’m back at the beginning. But this time I don’t have the energy of the first-timer, when you have no idea what you’re in for, and everything’s exciting, and it’s purely the thrill of the unknown and whether you'll actually pull it off spurring you on. Once you know, it’s definitely harder to lace your shoes up.
Writing ingredients.
And something I have to remember is that while, yes, I wrote the manuscript for The Latte Years in three months, I had actually been trying to write that story for nearly five years prior to that. So, in theory, I’m way ahead of schedule for Book 2 and I need to stop beating myself up. Now is the time for thinking, gathering, marinating and, frankly, savouring. I worked so hard. It's OK to enjoy this and take a while before I dive in again. It makes sense to me to cultivate a strong practice, a mixture of discipline and play, so that I can get the juices flowing.
Retreats tend to spark the question "how can I keep this amazing, peaceful, zen feeling going in my life once I go home?" and I was no exception! I want balance and energy in my life, but I get very overwhelmed at the idea of trying to fit in everything I want to do with my time. The answer came very clearly towards the end of my time in Norwich and it felt like it had been staring me in the face all along. I am a fairly motivated and disciplined person but the secret to me achieving anything in life is to have projects, goals and deadlines. Without those things, I flounder. I always have.
Me, doing my best non-floundering face.
But the truth is, I’ve needed to take the pressure off myself this year and have a few less deadlines, goals and to-do lists. The only thing that has stopped me from hiding under the duvet each day has been going gently. Withdrawing quietly from anything non-essential that adds nothing to my life. Writing mostly for myself, filling journal after journal, knowing it will never be read by anyone else and revelling in the thrill of that. Trying not to beat myself up about not doing everything I feel I ‘should’ be doing. Time out from life showed me that I can’t force inspiration. I can’t force a story out of me, it will only happen naturally. And perhaps it has more of a chance of happening naturally if I give myself what I need. Like, nourishing and simple meals. Creative play. Daily yoga. Time out from being ‘on’. Daily journaling of my thoughts. Meditation, sitting, supporting my throat chakra (which needed a lot of help, it was no accident I had a sore throat. More on that in the next post!). Self care. The luxury of doing nothing and not feeling guilty about it.
There was a part of me that thought I’d come away from my days in Norwich with the start of the next book, and that didn’t end up happening. But what did happen was I locked the house on the last morning, walked to the station and sat calmly and happily with a coffee and magazine (no phone!) on the train back to London, and felt flooded with a renewed sense of purpose. I was returning to my life with a bit of clarity, a clearer vision and a new pleasure in my craft; a re-dedication to my practice; and a better awareness of what I need to feel creative and balanced, and to make sure I get those things, because that is the only way I will do my work.
In that respect, the retreat was a complete success.
Reading on the way back to London.....
Next post: how I healed my throat chakra in Norwich (now there's an article for the East Anglian Daily Times!)
Have you ever gone away on your own to retreat, recalibrate, start a new project or get your groove back? What did you discover?