Evie is moonlighting as a writer but in truth she’s a bit of a fraud; she is omitting entire swathes of her career so far; in reality, although she’s been writing for several years, before this she has a chequered CV, enough jobs to fill several pages; 3 jobs (at least) in telesales, one job in a bakery which she was sacked from because she swept the floor too slowly, countless office jobs, teaching jobs in Poland, Italy, London and Cheltenham.
She’s picked strawberries, delivered leaflets, cleaned human feces from sinks, been a custodian at Kenilworth Castle, a chambermaid, hotel receptionist, market researcher, customer services assistant, awkward sales advisor at a men’s fashion fair in Florence, a babysitter. She’s even worked in a sheep society and three universities. She’s organised barbecues at an international school in London while counselling young adults. She’s cleaned shelves, dusted precious ornaments, learned the skill and satisfaction of properly polishing brass with ‘Brasso’. Been a PA, an EA, Translator. Had ADOS responsibities. She’s had to decode acronyms from garbled sentences on countless occasions and memorise them.
The biggest conundrum for her is Life Itself, which her words are an effortful attempt to decode and make sense of. Equally if writing is her job, it needs to be supplemented by reading, because writing is nothing without the influence of others.
In the past year, she has danced from introspection to extroversion and back again, writing about how she fits into the world, with a view to improving her journalistic, column writing skills and memoir writing skills via her blog on this website.
She has been reading memoirs and autobiographies and columns; Elena Ferrante, Laurie Penny, Tom Cox, Maggie O’Farrell, Dylan Thomas, Hilary Mantel, Chris Packham. She has also been listening to live poetry locally; Andrea Mbarushimana, Raef Boylan, Russ Berry, Adam Smith, Liz Jolly. She is so impressed by what people can produce and so overwhelmed by people’s interpretations of life.