A week of ups and downs

I gave the week just past its own hashtag on Twitter: #NMWFH, which stands for Nightmare Week from Hell. Looking back, I can see that it didn’t quite live up to this, but it was a close thing. It was a very tiring week, involving as it did five 4 hour training sessions, each of which had the potential to be extremely nerve-racking, a handful of very difficult questions, a few scattered moments of hilarity and several temporary computer failures of various kinds. Computer failures are just one of the hazards of any computer-based training session.

winter berries

Winter berries

In the intervals of conducting training and usually just before crawling into a corner at the end of every day and pretending not to exist at all, I became obsessed with checking the sales figures for my latest mystery novel. It managed to climb to no. 2 in the ‘cozy mystery’ top 100 on Amazon UK at one point. I don’t entirely approve of this, partly because the word ‘cozy’ annoys me every time I see it, and partly because I’m not entirely sure my novels deserve to be in this category in the first place. But I’m still pleased to see it doing relatively well so soon after its release, or escape as I prefer to think of it.

I’m currently working on a novella, which is a prequel to ‘Adventure on the Scotch Express’ (published in ‘Off the KUF Volume 3). With all that’s been happening at work I am making very slow progress through it, but I still hope I’ll finish it in time to start on a new ‘Quest’ novel at the beginning of April. I’m slightly upset to find I’ve created a deadline for the novella, which was supposed to be written at a leisurely pace appropriate for the Edwardian era in which it’s set. But if I don’t write the ‘Quest’ novel in April and May, I won’t be ready to write ‘Pitkirtly VIII’ in July and August, and my whole writing plan for the year will collapse like the flimsy structure it is. In a way all the workplace pressure I’ve been facing has made me more determined to keep to my writing plan. I don’t want to feel my writing is less important than work or anything else in my life.

Needless to say, de-cluttering has now been relegated to its proper place in the scheme of things, i.e. the thing I will do only if I definitely can’t think of anything I would rather be doing, and even then only if there isn’t room to move without falling over at least two cats.

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