Felinity asked 'Is your London full of fancy MeeJa types and rife with fairytale and glitz? Because I work in the MeeJa (not the fancy kind, alas) and live in London, and mine is much less fancy/crazy than the one you see.'
In comparison to other jobs I've had, which have involved me: having to fend off bisexual, drug-crazed truckers: getting covered in human blood and worse of all: working in a pot pourri factory, yes, it's quite tinsely.
This Saturday for example, I shared nachos with her off Hyperdrive, had my hair stroked by Michelle Gomez, bought/received a drink for/from a Vogue model (Rob), gave a birthday kiss to a Guardian columnist (Ori), and had an option taken out on the muji notebook scribblings.
On the other hand however, I'm more overdrawn than I've ever been in my life, mainly because I'm still waiting to be paid for the last three jobs I did (two of which were well before Christmas) while a tax bill that has accumulated from my first two years of writing part time before I had an accountant is now hoving into view like one of those big ships from Independence Day, blotting out increasingly South-Western landmarks the closer we get to the end of the month. Currently people in Exeter Cathedral are wondering why it's gone suddenly dark, and it's my fault.
So you can look at it as one of those swing/roundabout equations. Living in Cornwall does lend a pleasingly 'special outing' feel to my London trips though, hence the way I write about it.
If 'having an option taken out' sounds rather sinister by the way, as though ninjas are even now heading down on the sleeper train, dossiers filled with black and white surveillance photos of me with 'Caution! Subject trained in multiple swordplay techniques!*', what has actually happened is that An Quite Famous Producer (not Vic, she's old news now) gave me an amount of cash, measurable in english pounds, for an outline and the first few pages of an idea I had for a comedy/drama/thing. She then gets limited rights over it, one of which is that she can walk into commissioning editors' offices waving it about, without being thrown to the floor by security guards, which is what would happen if I tried it.
Options are a sort of investment in the writer - no guarantee that it will get anywhere of course, but it's great to have someone like your writing enough that they're willing to put money behind you. And in front of you. Also I have had a number of free glasses of wine and some cheese. And that ain't bad.
So it kind of is fairytaley and glitzty at the moment, but still my tax bill loometh. And if you remember your fairytales, the sort of gold you got given at those particular soirees had a nasty habit of turning into dry leaves in the morning, when you woke up under a tree with strange bruses down the left side of your body, your mobile phone filled with mud. So my advice is, eat the cheese while you can.
* Well, a couple of weeks of fencing and kendo, but it counts.