Back in the saddle

Wow – its coming up on four weeks since the wedding and life has just been non-stop. I wish I could say its all been exotic holidays and tearing up the town, but in reality we’ve just plowed back on into working.

Of course, for me, working has entailed being virtually chained to my laptop on a very steep learning curve and working some occasionally very late nights to meet deadlines. I’ve learned a few things this month – mostly insights into the weird and wonderful world of outsourced copy writing – you’ve not lived until over the course of three days you’ve produced a list of the cheapest, top and best ways to book a flight (one list for each adjective), or found yourself bouncing from researching gun stores in Los Angeles to writing about children’s cremation urns – and yes, that was a hard one to do on several levels.Philosraptor asks: If all men are the same, why do women take so long to choose one?

This week saw me turn into the consummate hack writer and pound out a small eBook about how best to work your biceps up in a month. Its an odd thought to think that the target audience for the first thing to see print is probably trying to audition for Jersey Shore. And that’s another thing – most of what I’m writing is for an American audience, so I’m finding myself starting to think with an American accent while reading back the work I’ve done.

I’ve no idea what kind of American accent it is – I’m pretty sure its that non-specific drawl that wanders around all over the place when people are asked to “speak like an American”, visiting all points from California, Utah and New York – sometimes even within the same sentence – and I’d be horribly embarrassed if I ever spoke like that in real life – or shot. Quite possibly shot actually…

On the plus side, now that I’ve successfully wrenched my brain away from calling anything not made in the USA as ‘foreign’ (dear lord), it has at least shown me that I really can churn out the word count when I need to – so I now need to tell my muse to stop serenading me in encouragement and to instead go pick up a decent handgun (I have a list of reputable gun stores in Idaho if you’d like one) and hold it to my head while speaking those soft, immortal words “Now write you m*****f*****”

About Tim Maidment

Writer, House Husband, Library Person, Raconteur, Poly, Queer and Bon Vivant. You were expecting something simple?
This entry was posted in freelance, idle musings, letting off steam, philosoraptor, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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