Harvesting my own fortunes

THERE’S a game plan – an ambitious one, some would say, overly ambitious. But that’s usually how I operate: aim high, fall short. Freak out.

I speak, of course, of my second book.

The inspiration came in a round-about fashion. I was thumbing my nose at some of my favourite mummy bloggers who were busy organising sponsors for Nuffnang’s Blogopolis, or who got a free pamper day, or basically anyone who got free stuff and reviewed it.

When I say “thumbing my nose”, it was more like open jealousy. I may as well have had The Cure singing “Why Can’t I Be You” (doo do do do do-do) in the background.

I discovered a while ago that I’m susceptible to social media-induced melancholy and just as I harbour a definitive emotional contagion so, too, do I have a green-eyed conduit – an unending ability to pine for the things, the lives, the clothes, that others have.

Combine this with meeting two “real life” people – one a new mum and freelance journalist who has, along with her husband, taken a “year off” from their Sydney rat-race to sun it up in Queensland (and follow their dreams, I should add); and another woman whose full name is, save for a single letter, EXACTLY the same as mine.

Tempted as I was to call her my doppelganger, I suspect I may be hers. She is much better looking and far more fashionable than I.

So you see, there is much for me to ache after at present: blog advertising, free trips to Blogopolis, 12 months off the treadmill, the ability to wear leggings and not scream in frustration (as I am wont to do when I wear leggings).

Fortunately, this horrible condition is not entirely debilitating. In fact, when I feel especially “woe is me” it’s usually not long before I brush the dust off my (legging-less) knees and start climbing – blind to obstacles such as improbable deadlines and the daily demands of children.

I usually slap myself a few times (figuratively) and remind myself what’s important. I am home with my children. I read them several stories everyday. I write. These things are important. These are the things I wanted to do. And I’m doing them.

It’s not the idea of Blogopolis or having my roots done for free that fill my head as it hits the pillow at night – it’s the characters in The Crushing Season and this little sun-kissed, sugar-hungry world I’ve already built around them.

So, here I am about to embark on a whirlwind bout of writing, purging the story from my insides out. It’s a little ironic that the goal I have set for myself runs parallel to the actual crushing season. Maybe that’s a good sign.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. jentbrave
    Jul 11, 2011 @ 07:44:30

    i can’t wait for book 2, pete! so hurry up and write it 🙂 Also I enjoyed your talk about leggings. Are leggings REALLY pants?? Some say no. Some say yes. Others agree with no. Some others … possibly … would say yes. I think there’s a book 3 in this …


    • petajo
      Jul 11, 2011 @ 23:39:23

      A book about leggings… hmm. Definitely something there. Very contentious issue. You’ll be happy to know I pounded out a couple thou’ words last night on book two, so we’re …. two-sixteenths of the way there 😉


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