Where the feck is Robinson?

Lucy Robinson - COPYRIGHT EVA BELL PHOTOGRAPHYNo blog for months! Hardly any tweets! Sub-standard facebooking!

Where the feck is Lucy Robinson?

She’s here, just. It’s been a mad few months, and the madness continues. It will continue until mid-November at which point I am going to sit on a Greek Island for several months and nobody will stop me. Not even The Man. He can come, if he likes (I hope he does) but if he doesn’t then I shall just have to get it on with Nykos or Stavros or basically anyone who will have me. (Nobody will have me. I’m wrecked.)

My lovely novel The Unfinished Symphony of You and Me came out in June* and, after my very enjoyable book launch, I realised that there was the small matter of my having to write about 70,000 words by the end of August. I’d actually been working very hard on novel 4 but had not quite done the maths. So I spent the entire summer locked in my writing room.

I sent off the manuscript for novel 4. ‘It’s awful,’ I told my agent. ‘No it’s not,’ she snapped. ‘Stop being a dick.’**

I decided I didn’t care if it was awful. I was now freeeee! Free to lie in! Free to paint my house! Free to hang out with The Man for the first time in months!

Sadly, my bank balance said otherwise. My bank balance said, ‘go back to TV, please. You need to get me some pounds, ho.’

So I did. I worked on a lot of arts and history telly in my day and found it to be incredibly satisfying, intellectually. And thus when I was offered a ten week contract working in just that area, I was thrilled. I started a little over three weeks ago and have been pumping my brain full of academic superfood. Has been such a delight to engage with the stuff that makes me feel alive.

But then my cocking rewrites came in. With a month deadline! A month! ARGH! Even without another full time job that’d be hard!

But Penguin are working their asses off for me at the moment, so I am working my ass off for them. I get up at 5am and work on my novel until 9. Then I shove breakfast into my mouth and go and spend eight hours writing about fascinating things for my telly job. Then I come home and carry on with my novel.

Which is why you have not seen me much of late. And why you will continue not to see much of me. But I’m still here.

When I’m back, I’ll tell you all about my summer. About the bit where I went raw and vegan (I KNOW. I KNOW. THE WORST MIDDLE-CLASS CLICHE OF ALL TIME.) And the bit where I took my own advice and did something reeeeeally brave. And the bit where The Man and I were attacked by a plague of man-eating beasts. It’s all to come. As, most excitingly of all, is BIG NEWS about novel 4. Not just that it’s coming, because that’s fairly average news. No, this feels like bigger news than that. But I can’t tell you anything yet. This one’s a top secret book. Haha!

Right, well at the end of the worst blog I’ve ever written, which I’m too tired even to proof-read, I’m off to write some book. And then go to bed at 9.

Amazing scenes!

Love, gropes and manuscripts,

Robinson x

*Yep, I’m still praising my own novel. But so are you guys too! I’m SO EFFING THRILLED that so many of you have loved it! Those amazon reviews! Holy cack! Much love and thanks.

** She didn’t really snap, it just sounds better.

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