“Do you write 200 words a day?”

I was recently asked this question by a man. (To be clear, I have never been asked this question by a  woman.)

“Sadly, not,” was my very restrained reply, when all I wanted to do was neck-wrestle him to the floor and hold him there whilst sitting on his back snarling in his ear, “No, I do not. I have two kids, my own business, fifty million competing priorities for my time, oh, and I volunteer at the school as well as sewing all my family’s clothes and baking fresh treats daily!” (Okay, so the last two are made up but I do try and make our meals from scratch. Opening the freezer drawer counts, right?)

Instead, I’m a binge-writer. I’ll write where and when I can for however long it takes for one of the kids to notice I’ve gone missing and there’s a dinner or a snack overdue. I’ll go shopping and stop for an extra half hour for a ‘coffee’ – out comes sad little notebook. I’ll get to the school early for pick-up just to write for 20 minutes – sun visors pulled down so no one recognises me. I’ll write in the bath until my skin wrinkles and someone is banging on the door desperate to use the loo.

I would love to write 200 words every day. The only time I’ve done that is when I was commuting on the train, hemmed in by other people’s fetid breath; I loved it, especially if I managed to bag a table seat (a proper table, not the flip down, airline-style ones).  Right-hand side, nearest the window was my favourite, then the person sitting next to me couldn’t read what I was writing.

So, for now, with my erratic schedule and inability to control all the other demands on my time, I’ll just continue to write when I can.

Ooh, gotta go, I think my husband’s back with the kids…

To read something I did manage to finish, click here.