Journalists are machines that convert coffee to copy. This rather wonderful description of my profession I saw on Facebook just now and it perfectly captures my August, easily one of the most word-intensive ones I’ve had to endure.
A Hong Kong chum, who I shared this coffee/copy witticism with, added: "...and then back into Carlsberg and so goes the circle of life..." Amazingly, this month has been, by and large, an alcohol free one for yours truly. Strange times, indeed.
My day starts with espresso and by 11am I’ve generally gone through a cafetiere, averaging 500 words a cup. In total, this wildly exhausting month has seen the best part of 50,000 words churned out. Caffeine intake has been horribly high to the point whereby I swear it makes no impact and yet people look at my crazy, strained, hopping eyes and beg to differ.
Though I am now heading to Europe there is no let up – September’s output is going to keep baristas happy everywhere – at least another 40,000 words.
Time to put the kettle on.
Zealots I’ve loved and lost
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