How (not) to write a novel

It is time to write. In fact, it has been time to write for about three hours now and I am still no further towards my goal of actually putting pen to paper. Or keyboard to screen.

What I have done, however, is prepare:

1) The cat has been locked out of the room. Four times now on account of the fact she has wordlessly declared starvation, deprivation and an absolute insistence on being stroked. None of these points can be ignored for fear of being reported to the RSPCA. Or, as is often the case, a vomiting protest that involves leaving something unpleasant on my printer.

2) Tea has been made. Earl Grey - as ordinary tea is for builders, not writers. That required a trip to the supermarket, which of course led to the purchase of £58.37 worth of other groceries I didn't know I wanted and a lengthy discussion with an in-store demonstrator about healthy eating. I did attempt to get away but was persuaded to buy a savoy cabbage and some porridge. I didn't have the heart to tell her the rabbit usually has any available greenery in my fridge and the last oatmeal I purchased was thrown to the birds. (The squirrels got there first and now demand same on a regular basis so porridge is literally out the window these days).

3) The husband has been volunteered for overtime. He didn't necessarily see why he had been volunteered but until now is unaware that I have hacked into his work email to express devotion to his career. That should stop a few distractions. And the need to cook dinner. (I will make it up to him once the novel is finished.)

4) Biscuits. I nearly forgot the biscuits. Very, very important. Never, ever, forget the biscuits (or go straight to point 9).

5) Then I just needed to be appropriately dressed for writing. It doesn't matter how hard I try to look like the smart professional, sassy writer or trend-setting novelist, I always appear at events as if I save arrived by accident - mislaid on the way to a 'going-through-hedges-backwards' competition. So time to get out of the elasticated clothing and into something suitable for a book signing. Then I can really feel the part. It only takes about half an hour. Depending of course on whether I decide to get out the curling tongs, straighteners and possibly the hair dye. Or call the hairdresser for an emergency appointment.

6) That done I have dealt with emails, an absolute must before I even think about writing as I tell myself they will play on my mind. Particularly the one from that friend of my cousin's boyfriend's sister's brother who says I have been tagged in one of her Facebook photos. I look it up and certainly don't recognise the drunken, middle aged woman grinning inanely at the camera. Must be someone else.

7) Then deal with the post, assuming he or she has actually arrived by the time you get to this point. It is much better to go and see what he has delivered than leave it on the mat. And there is something very inspiring about catalogues for disability scooters (oh how I want one, but for not the right reasons) and half-price divans. Do you know there are some fantastic deals at Argos? 

8)   Did I mention biscuits? Ginger, chocolate or anything by Fox's. Mmmnnnn.

9)   If you don't have any biscuits try toast. Or bits of cheese. Or that wizened looking apple in the fruit bowl. You need sustenance. Writing is very hard work.

10) Once you have run out of things to plan for, it would seem you have to get on with writing. You have run out of excuses, diversions and probably biscuits. Sit down, think and get those creative juices flowing.

At the end of the day, which it probably will be by the time you start, just do it…

Janet Kelly, journalist and owner of Free Features which supplies content to the UK's press. Age 52, married with two grown up daughters. She lives in Surrey with four cats and wants to follow her childhood ambition of becoming a novelist.