When I was a lad with the dream of being a full-time writer, I often imagined it as the kind of life you might have where avalanches of money just pour in from royalties and you’re there in your 200-room mansion, private jet parked outside,
slaves servants running around doing everything, and generally having a nice life. As a writer I imagined it might be something like this…
10.30 am – woken by
slave servant arriving with pot of Civet coffee, a tray with smoked trout, asparagus, scones with clotted cream and blueberry jam, and the morning paper.
11.45 am – finish reading the paper, casually get up and slob around a bit in a bathrobe while sipping a martini – (shaken, not stirred.)
12.15 pm – can’t be bothered writing so go for quick swim in the pool, refreshing myself occasionally with a martini from a floating tray.
12.30 pm – still can’t be bothered getting dressed so slob around in bathrobe while having casual lunch of a couple of bottles of vintage Pol Roger by the poolside while reading The Guardian.
2.15 pm – Go into the writing room with a large Oban single-malt and tap out a few words on the typewriter. Still in bathrobe.
2.16 pm – sit down with a very large Bombay Sapphire-and-tonic to start planning the next at-home soiree. Discover that yes, Stephen Spielberg and George Lucas WILL change their schedules so they can attend.
4.19 pm – prepare for early drinks with a couple of other writers – oh, today it’s probably James Patterson and Dan Brown, or somebody else important in the field. Have a
slave servant provide a tray of martinis, shaken and not stirred, caviar, pate fois gras and a variety of petit fours.
4.20 pm – finish the martinis and ask servants to get more before the guests arrive at 4.30.
4.30 pm – Guests arrive. Too late to change out of bathrobe so claim it’s a fashion decision and I have 384,000 others in a walk-in robe somewhere in the house. Explain that I am not the first to have this idea.
7.00 pm – a quiet 18 course dinner at home with just 38 close friends, 180 bottles of chablis and 397
slaves servants in attendance. Still in bathrobe unfortunately.
1.00 am – dinner finally ends. Crawl off to bed with just a quick nightcap of a final martini to be ready for another writing-filled day tomorrow. Or an appointment with a hepatologist. Whichever comes first…
Next week: What it’s actually like to write full time…
Copyright © Matthew Wright 2019