Picture the scene. I’m up to my neck in the final edits on a novel, with just three weeks to go until the deadline. All systems are go. All cylinders are firing. The inside of my head resembles the Somme.
In the middle of the carnage, I get an email inviting me to pitch for a new ghostwriting assignment. The catch is, the deadline for the pitch submission is the same as the one I’m already working to. That’s bad enough but, deadline aside, the idea of committing to a whole new trilogy of novels – for a project that will run somewhat concurrently with the one I’m already working on – is more or less mind-blowing.
On the other hand, the concept and outline for said new project is pretty exciting – right up my street, actually. And it’s really rather nice to be asked.
What do I do?
It’s a rhetorical question, because I’ve done it already. I’ve said “yes”. The decision may be a sign that I’ve finally descended into madness but, like all big decisions, I kept my head out of it and let my heart decide. It’s never let me down yet. Though I suppose there’s always a first time.
To help accommodate the extra workload, I’ve sweet-talked my client into extending the original editing deadline by a week. In theory, that should have given me enough time to squeeze everything in. Barely. I say should, because I appear to be writing the pitch submission (two chapters) at approximately half the speed I’d anticipated. To make matters worse, my first draft of a chapter that should be around 2,000 words long is currently running at around 4,700 words …
In short, none of the numbers add up. I have 12 days left before I have to submit the pitch, and 17 before the novel is due. There are not, in theory, enough hours in the day to do everything.
But then maths was never my strong point. I’d rather play with words. They’re a lot more fun.