by Chris Niles|
5.57 Deep sleep. But dreaming of successful day ahead. 5.58 Eyelids flutter. REM phase ends. 5.59 Wake. Reach for cashmere dressing gown and diamante studded mules. 6.00 Look around gorgeous house in which interior decorater has given the impression that I have good taste. 6.02 Feel good about myself. 6.03 Still feeling good about myself. Have to rush now, because I am one minute behind schedule. 6.05 Pre-workout snack. 100 calories. 7.10 Morning work-out. 300 calories expended. Five hairs out of place. 8.23 Breakfast. Drink blood of unsuccessful novelist. Feel so good I could french myself. 9.00 Begin daily process of changing publishing history with my spookily insightful prose. 'Her complexion was clear but I got the feeling that one day she would gain a scholarship to Brown University, study micro-biology, meet and marry a Spanish count and have three children and two miscarriages, fall out with her family and die alone in an apartment in Birmingham with a green kitchen.' 10.03 Take a moment out from spookily insightful prose to pity other writers who are so desperate for cash that they will sell their novels to Hollywood. Feel glad that I can pay the Ecuadorian pool boy a minimum wage without having to compromise my own high standards. 12.03 Lunch. Desperate for a pint of Bourbon, a packet of fags and a quick shag with Ecuadorian pool boy. 12.05 Put those thoughts firmly out of my head. Remind myself I am a successful novelist. 12.07 Continue to eat calorie-controlled low fat lunch while feeling proud that I am living up to standards expected of amazingly successful novelist. 12.08 Decide to look for pool boy to discuss filtration. 12.30 Yo, baby!! 1.03 Back at desk. Spookily insightful prose starting to look just spooky. Perhaps one little glass of JD. 1.04 Pull myself together. Look out window at peacocks strolling on vast but incredibly private lawn. 1.05 Decide to have quick word with Salvadorean peacock wrangler. 1.36 Caw-caw!! Burned off all lunch time calories with sexual athleticism that only amazingly successful novelists are capable of. 2.00 Back at desk. Discover, to one's surprise, nearly full bottle of JD in drawer. Read New York Times reviews of last book for distraction. Then read bank statements. 2.09 Find peacock feather in knickers. Think about how I can use the pain to inform spookily insightful prose. 2.14 Return to spookily insightful prose. 'He had red hair that stuck out from his head like the feathers of a peacock, but I got the impression that he would one day be involved in an unsuccessful covert government plan to destabilise a communist regime in sub-Saharan Africa which would end his espionage career and force him to buy a Seven-Eleven franchise in the San Fernando Valley.' 3.00 Writing day is over. Can now enjoy real fruits of amazingly successful life. Discover gram of cocaine in my drawer. How did it get there? Oh well. 6.30 Dinner with husband at expensive restaurant. Graciously ignore plebians who recognise me as amazingly successful novelist, including husband. Half bottle of Premier Grand Cru. Then another half. Gagging for another JD 8.29 Sex with husband in husband's bedroom while running over plot twists for next days spookily insightful writing. Really, really need that JD now. 9.03 Return to own bedroom. Chilean butler brings nightcap -- blood of unsuccessful novelist with JD chaser. 9.05 Persuade butler to stay to discuss following day's menus. 9.06 Persade butler best to do this naked. And quickly. Explain patiently that amazingly successful novelists get that way because they stick to schedule. 9.15 Have butler set alarm for 5.59am on his way out. 9.35 Fast asleep.
|