a gift

came my way. A result of the recession and my employers cutting staff costs, but a gift nonetheless...

I haven't been made redundant, but I was offered the afternoon off if I wanted it.

I battled with the idea for at least 10 minutes (the offer came by text message). Weighed up the pros and cons and my own financial situation and realised a loss of 4 hours work wasn't too big a dent.

And anyway! (said the big idea in my head) You can work on your story for the Manchester Fiction Prize! (Of which the first prize is a staggering £15,000. Which, if I won, is ever-so-slightly more than my earnings for 4 hours at work).


So I've spent all afternoon at my desk doing just that. But it's slow. I'm slow.

And I think I've read too much good fiction lately - I'm getting that feeling where everything you write just looks basic and lacking and by numbers.

Deadline is Friday 5pm. I'm working tomorrow (even if you get the offer to have another day off, there are still bills to paid, Teresa) so I need to push through this self doubt. Just get a draft done.

Get it written, love. Come on.