In the pub last night, we were talking about what our “Plan A” career was. Or, what we had wanted to be when we grew up.
“I’m probably on Plan H, or something,” said Nick. He counted them off on his fingers. “Yep, just about.”
“What was your Plan A?” someone asked.
“I can’t even remember now.” And not many other people could, either. We all laughed.
For most of us in that group, Plan A was a pipe dream: astronaut, actress, footballer… And for most of us in that group, there is a still a Plan A(ii): writer, author, novelist… We all write in our spare time, and everyone would love to give up their jobs and earn enough money to live off their writing. Oh, how we want it. But no one said it.
I thought to myself about how my Plan A is beginning: with the Masters I am taking the first step to that goal. When the course finishes, I will step back into real life again, get a slightly boring job again, and continue writing in my spare time. Unless I’m very, very lucky.
I think we need to be lucky. That’s why no one said it.