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A Writer's Life


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at least I’d put on a bra…

A few weeks ago, I was working to deadline; I had a post due for the Fundamental Fridays blog which, for me, is a pretty big deal. It was a fairly typical scenario for a writer; up at 5:00 a.m., at the desk by 5:30 with coffee in hand. I was behind schedule (which, admittedly, freaks me out) so the only thing I could do was buckle down and get writing.

You’ve been there, I’m sure; a professional woman conducting her work in a professional way—work that will be seen by higher ups, by peers, and by potential clients. This is important stuff. We can’t half-ass it. We’ve got to present our work, and ourselves, in the best possible light.


It’s at times like these that I thank the technology gods for the alarm on my iPhone. Without it, I’d never get to my Editor Roundtable or Book Launch Show podcast recordings, I’d miss calls with editing clients, or as on this particular day, I’d forget to set up important conference calls.

The call was part of a Story Grid course. Students from all over the world were coming together to ask questions of three certified editors. My role was purely behind-the-scenes; make sure the moderator had everything she needed, then step back and let my colleagues do their jobs.


I was ready. My colleagues were ready. But, Zoom had a system-wide failure which meant that two of the three editors couldn’t get onto the call. It’s too big a job for one person and we couldn’t delay the start time. So, as a certified editor myself, I offered to jump on the call and help out.


I assumed my confident editor voice and began to welcome the participants.


“Wait,” said Kim, the lone editor who’d made it onto the call. “You’ve got to turn your camera on.”


And that’s when I realized that I was still wearing my pyjamas.

Yes, it was 2:30 in the afternoon, but I hadn’t left my desk since 5:30 in the morning. Worse, I hadn’t yet combed my hair or put in my contact lenses. And make-up? Pfft, forget it.


Refusing to turn the camera on would have been downright silly, but broadcasting this decidedly unprofessional image of myself? Ugh. I still can’t bear to think about it.


There was nothing for it. I raised my chin and before flicking on the camera, I smiled. I may not have brushed my teeth that morning, but at least I’d put on a bra.

Valerie Francis

one year from now

Where do you want your writing career to be one year from now? How many books do you want to have written? How many books do you want to have studied? How much revenue do you want to have generated? What is your plan for meeting these targets? I’ll admit,

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Valerie Francis

you can’t un-see it

I’ve had an idea rattling around in my head for a while now, and the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it’s true.  The idea is this: everything is story. That’s a pretty bold statement.  You could argue that I’m biased because I’m in the business of

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Valerie Francis

people be wack

I’ve been debating whether I should write this. Not because I think I’m wrong, but because I think it will be interpreted as angry, or ungrateful, or petulant. Then I looked at my window that needs fixing and my kitchen door that needs replacing, and I realized that this is

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