The last blogpost

So, good news: I have a job, a grown-up job. And I’m moving back to Dublin. Much as I love my little house in the Longfordian countryside and much as I love my own company, I was turning into something of a recluse. Last week, I found myself telling a friend of mine that I was having conversations with him in my brain as I was having so few conversations with actual people. It’s for the best that I return to somewhere where I actually know people. And I still haven’t caught up with my own finances since coming back from the Camino, so it’s time I took on a solid dependable job.

I have accepted an offer to be the Director of Studies of a Dublin city centre English language school, a post also known as “DoS”. After some brief flirtations with business-y, management-y jobs in the past, there is no denying that I am fully in that camp now and am what The Inbetweeners would call a “briefcase wanker”. For what it’s worth, I think the job will be interesting, and I have every intention of being the nicest briefcase wanker I can be.

Dublin rent has got crucifyingly expensive and I’m not going to share, so I still won’t be particularly rich, but it’s still the highest salary I’ve ever had in my life. This is good.

I do love new beginnings and I’ve been jumping up and down with excitement since I got the offer a few hours ago.

In other news, last Sunday, as the curtain was clearly drawing to a close on my life in Longford with me going to quite a bunch of interviews, I was thinking regretfully about my year here. I moved here so I would have the time to write my Great Novel. At around the same time on Sunday, a friend of mine was talking to a friend of hers and sent me a message telling me that they had decided that I needed to write a romantic-comic Bridget Jonesy novel and that I could knock it out in no time, the way I wrote the last few chapters of my PhD in two weeks.

My Great Novel was going nowhere. I had no job. I listened to my friend. I couldn’t write a romantic story. It wouldn’t come out of my fingers. I could, however, write a Young Adult novel. I started writing on my phone. I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. That night, I had knocked out 5,000 words. And I’ve kept up the momentum and written at least a thousand words a day since then. And it’s enormous fun. It’s not as meaningful to me as my Great Novel, but that’s part of what makes it fun and easy. I have no idea if it’s any good, but I can read back over it without cringing.

So, I have a week before I start my new job. In that time, I’m going to finish my Camino book and send it off and I’m also going to get another 10,000 words written in my YA novel. 2017 is going to be the year I get published.

And because it’s a new start, and because I’m off to a SRS BIZNES job and because I have things I want to write more than Project Connor, this will be my last blogpost. I haven’t really been keeping up with my blogging over the last few months anyway. I’ll leave access to the blog open until Tuesday or Wednesday and then I’ll make the blog private again.

Don’t worry. I will continue to overshare on social media. If the need to write at length on a topic comes to me, I can always share it on I have lots of other writing I want to do and will do. And if I ever go on another lengthy adventure (e.g. if I decide to walk 708 km across Spain, or if I move into a flat with thirteen 19-year-old boys) I might open this up again, but more than likely this is the last of this blog in its current form.

Thanks for all of your support and loveliness over the last six and a half years. Pour one for Project Connor.


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