In the autumn of 2015 I was working two and a half days a week as a college librarian, and not enjoying my job. During the rest of my week I was writing magazine fiction, an additional but minor income stream that had been growing steadily since humble beginnings a decade before. Slaving over my tax return one day, I spotted that my writing earnings had outstripped my library earnings for the first time. I had built good relationships with three women’s magazines who liked my fiction and accepted between 25% and 90% of what I submitted, and that year I had had the good fortune to be asked by The People’s Friend to co-deliver their fiction workshops in London. I’d also taught a couple of day courses at my local theatre. In addition, BBC Radio still called on me occasionally to do sound effects work.
I stared at my Mac wondering if I would ever dare to go freelance, and when I made the suggestion of it to my husband it was barely more than a joke. But he reminded me of our joint vow – never to stay in a job that made us unhappy.