Remember how I told you how much I loved my work as a travel writer? And you said I had the dream job everyone envied? Well, it's not so dreamy at the moment. We are tired. Really tired. For the last few days we've been at our laptops 17 hours a day. We haven't showered. We're not eating properly anymore. All the wonderful food we bought at the market on Saturday - the proscuitto, bresaola, rucola, buffalo mozzarella, the big bunch of basilico! - it's all going to waste. Okay, maybe it's not a nightmare. I'm exaggerating a little. But let me share the highlights (or rather lowlights) so you know a travel writer's life is not all VIP openings, private parties and seas of champagne! I'll put you in the picture: we're in an apartment in Milan so all we should be doing is researching Milan and Terry should be taking photos of Milan. We have started researching Milan, although we haven't been pounding the pavement every day as we'd have liked and Terry's only been able to spend two days taking photos because we've had grey skies and rain almost every day since we arrived. I'm working on another book about another place, which I should have finished a month ago but couldn't because the editor only recently approved the final outline. As the delays aren't my doing, she's extended the deadline, but I don't want to be working on this now, I want to be working on Milan. What's really frustrating is we'd stayed on in Turkey to finish the thing there. I'm also planning post-Milan research, which I should have done weeks ago but couldn't because that editor has just now been able to provide a final brief. So we're writing outlines, floorplans, shot lists, itineraries and books. And over the last week I've written hundreds of emails my hands are aching so much I'm sure I have carpal tunnel syndrome; Terry feels like he's getting the flu. I'm sending emails to museums, theatres, hotels and restaurants to get permission to visit, shoot photos, do interviews. I'm emailing tourism organizations, airlines, car rental agencies, hotels, tour companies and PR reps to get help for a forthcoming Australia trip. I'm dealing with magazine and newspaper editors about other ongoing and future projects. And I'm chasing editors of past projects for payments. And while getting paid is never normally a drama, for some reason everyone wants to send cheques all of a sudden (I didn't even know people used them anymore! Doesn't everyone do electronic banking?). A story I wrote in English for a Gulf magazine has been published in Arabic, another piece I contributed to has been published without my credit, while a story Terry spent hours prepping dozens of images for (at the art director's request) has appeared with only two of his pics among twelve stereotypical stock shots. But whose going to listen to a travel writer complain? This evening, the weather is perfect in Milan. It's a typical balmy early summer's night. As it's meant to have been! We can hear the bars downstairs on the Navigli buzzing with locals, eager to make up for all the socializing they've missed out on. Meanwhile, we're here finalizing outlines and shotlists when we should be checking out those bars. It's times like these when we start to wonder whether we should just give up and get 'real' jobs...
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