I woke up this morning and soon realised that today is one of those days where you should stay tucked up under the duvet, phone your boss with your best ‘sick voice’ (why do you sound so croaky, when you’re phoning in with a broken leg?) and generally stick 2 fingers up to the world, silently repeating the mantra “It’s too frickin’ cold to get up today.”
Winter’s definitely here, and if you don’t believe me, dare to stick your face out the door and feel your tear ducts slowly freeze. It’s the kind of day not to go and stand in the cold and wait for the dear old number-4 bus but here I am awaiting its impending (and very welcome) arrival. I’m sure my typing has slowed as the frozen blood in my veins endeavours to scale the route to my finger tips (stop me if I become over dramatic, won’t you?)
Another reason to stay in bed today was the nuclear war being conducted outside my bedroom window until the wee hours of this morning. The BOOM, BOOM, BOOMING certainly reminded me of apocalyptic scenes. I detest this time of year, not because I’m a money-grabbing Scrooge but because I suffer from ligyrophobia, aka the fear of sudden loud noises (balloons are a pet hate too for the same reason). I know that everyone wants to remember the crazy fool who tried to blow up Parliament but do you really need to do it every night for 2weeks? A bit OTT surely? For those of us who suffer, it’s as bad as passing an 8-legged furry creature to an anachrophobe.
Anyway, in case you haven’t noticed there’s a new fear doing the rounds: ‘indie-pub-obia’ or the fear of indie writers.
I have just these words of advice: we won’t blow up in your face or make you jump out of your skin. Instead of fearing us, embrace us, because I’ll let you in on a secret: WE’RE NOT GOING AWAY!
Until next time, happy reading!