In an ideal world, an author should be able to check all of these:
1. Space to write. Kitchen tables are common, as are laps. Whatever your lifestyle there needs to be somewhere, even somewhere you carry with you, that’s a writing place.
2. Time to write. This one can be hard, because the rest of your life will get in the way. But it’s worth making the effort, even if it’s only a few hours a week.
3. Another source of income. I’ve always liked the phrase ‘independently wealthy’; it’s something I aspire to. In the meantime, there’s day-jobs, which do at least get you out the house, as well as allowing you to eat every week.
4. An understanding partner (and/or children/cats). Whoever shares a writer’s life needs to be aware that living with a writer is a bit like living with an alien: they’ll be unfathomable yet fascinating, wild yet rewarding; and they don’t see the world the way you do.
Amazingly, I just about manage everything on the list, most of the time. I’m aware that I’m lucky in this.
In other news: Eastercon program updates mean that the panel on ‘What makes a feminist heroine?’ is now at 3pm on Sunday. When not on panels or in the bar, I’m likely to be hanging around in the dealer’s room, acting as a
body double stall sitter for a Guest of Honour. I’ll have hardbacks for signing, and other writers will also be in the vicinity at various times helping to staff Ms Williams occult emporium. Do drop in.