A week in the life of a nomad author

18 months ago, I gave up my home in the UK to join a growing tribe known as ‘digital nomads’ - people who are lucky enough to be able to work anywhere in the world as long as they have a laptop and internet access.

As an author, I definitely fit that bill and so when I found myself feeling burned out and fed-up after the pandemic, and a newly empty nester to boot, it suddenly dawned on me that I didn’t have to stay stuck in that rut - that I could fly my empty nest too.

I got such a lovely response from last Sunday’s Wonderstruck, when I shared about my minimalist nomad wardrobe, that I thought it might be fun to give you a bigger peek into my life in the form of a ‘week in the life’, looking at how I juggle my work with life on the road. (I’ve written 3 novels since I left the UK and have had 3 published, and I also offer a mentoring service for aspiring writers.)

As regular readers will know, I’ve temporarily put my global travels on hold and have been in the UK for the past couple of months, helping my siblings take care of our 85 year-old dad as he’s had some health issues, but I’m still living like a nomad.

So what follows is a diary-style account of my life last week in a town called Margate on the south east coast of England - covering all the highs and some quite dramatic lows. I hope you find it interesting…

Monday

I’m a firm believer that how you start a day really has the power to shape the day, so I like to begin by doing things that make me feel joyful, calm and strong, and I pay extra attention to my Monday morning routine, being the start of a whole new week and all.

So this morning I do twenty minutes of yoga followed by ten minutes of dancing around my living room. (Top tip - if you have time for nothing else in the morning, find ten or even five minutes for a bedroom or kitchen disco- I guarantee you’ll feel better for it. And if you aren’t able to dance, sit in your chair and wave your arms in the air like you just don’t care - anything to make yourself giggle!)

After getting down to an epic ‘vintage culture remix’ of Let It Go by Louie Vega and the Martinez Brothers, I meditate and do some journaling about a new non-fiction book I’ve just started writing. Something has been feeling a little off about the first couple of chapters and I’m not sure what, so I journal about it straight after meditating when my mind is clear, and instantly get this download:

“Write the book as if you are writing a love letter - to life and to the reader. Tell it all and don’t censor a thing. Raw. Real. Truth. That’s what people need. They need to find their meaning and purpose. Their quest. Just like you did. That is at the heart of the book. Finding meaning in everything.”

Re-inspired, I sit down to write but then my phone starts to ring. It’s a doctor from the London hospital my dad has been in for the past couple of weeks following a fall. The doctor is pompous and cold and makes it clear that she just wants him out of there asap, due to a lack of beds. Unluckily for her, I’ve just had my giant mug of pre-writing coffee so I’m mentally at my sharpest. I manage to out-wit and out-patronise her and she agrees to keep my dad in hospital until Friday while we wait for some essential safety equipment to be delivered to his home. I celebrate my small win with my siblings on our group chat. This may sound silly, but we’ve been battling the system for months now trying to get my dad the care he needs so we’re really feeling the frazzle and have to take our victories when and where we can.

I write a new chapter for my non-fiction book then, after lunch, I go for a bracing sea walk, and inspired by the professional photographer who owns the flat where I’m staying, I take a few shots along the way.

Living as a digital nomad, I’ve been staying in a random mix of hotels and Airbnbs and I don’t always have a kitchen. When I do, like now, I really enjoy cooking so I make myself a Persian chicken dish, flatbread and a salad. Then I watch an episode of Apple Cider Vinegar on Netflix before crashing out.

Tuesday

A truly terrible day. Begins with my dad calling my sister to say his hospital bed has been moved out of the ward and into the corridor. Then he texts me to say that his phone is about to die but the hospital staff won’t charge it for him, so can I let his friend know he won’t be able to contact him. Shortly after, a nurse from my dad’s ward rings me to say they want to discharge him today. I tell her that we have nothing in place for him to come home to - like food and the safety equipment - as we’ve been told he was being discharged on Friday. She makes it clear they aren’t going to budge, then I hear one of her colleagues joking about it in the background followed by a *giggle, giggle* and I totally lose it. But mid way through my rant about their lack of care, professionalism and humanity, I’m hit by the realisation that my anger will make absolutely zero difference and in an instant all the fight goes out of me and I burst into tears.

My dad’s friend let’s me know that he’s rung a carers organisation (local to the hospital) and a lovely man has gone up to the corridor that my dad’s been dumped on and has charged his phone for him. It’s a much needed reminder that caring people do exist.

For the rest of the day I’m unable to do any work. I’m too stressed, worried and upset. My lovely siblings are the same. After months of this we all feel exhausted and at breaking point. After a chronic lack of funding, the health system in the UK is totally effed. It’s horrifying to witness.

Wednesday

After yesterday’s events, I wake up feeling a little low - anxious about my dad and missing being able to travel. Luckily, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to help shift my mood, so I put on some banging tunes and dance my stress out then sing at the top of my voice and air guitar in the shower to How Soon is Now by The Smiths.

After breakfast I journal about yesterday’s shit show, pouring my frustrations onto the page, then I have a mentoring session with a brand new client. She has a wonderful idea for a novel - funny and fresh and exciting - she just needs some help shaping the plot and staying motivated.

As soon as I switch into mentor mode my mood lifts. Just like when I write, whenever I mentor other people, I go into what is called the ‘flow state’ and I’m fully focused and energised and loving it.

Once I finish the session I have a cup of coffee and some of my favourite dark chocolate snuggled under a blanket on the sofa. Yesterday has left me wiped out but hearing my client’s writing goals reminds me of how far I’ve come and I feel so incredibly grateful - not only for the opportunities I’ve been given as an author, but for how I’m able to use them to help others.

Dad seems to be doing OK back at home. His carers are visiting four times a day and after yesterday’s rock bottom, my siblings are all being amazing and back in the Trying to Get Shit Done Zone - including writing to my dad’s local MP and filing an official complaint against the hospital.

In the evening I have a lovely video call with my brother. Like me, he’s a trained life coach and we started having regular accountability calls a couple of years ago. During our calls we share our goals for the fortnight, and recap on how we got on with our previous goals.

I love our calls so much as they really help me get focused and positive and because we’re siblings they’re such a laugh because we can banter with each other in a way we wouldn’t be able to with clients. For example, my brother will frequently get his ‘world’s smallest violin’ out to play when I’m yet again making excuses for why I STILL haven’t done my French lessons! To give you some idea of what we can be like when we get together, here’s a picture of us back in the day at a club in Camden…

Thursday

I have a call with my editor scheduled this morning which I’ve really been looking forward to. We’ve worked together for a long time now and she’s about to offer me a new two-book deal. Our call is to talk about my ideas for these books. My publisher has fast become one of the most successful in the UK, thanks in large part to their dynamic, forward-thinking approach. They’re also super supportive of their authors’ development. Since becoming a digital nomad I’ve been wanting to write books set in some of the places I’ve travelled to and my publisher are fully behind this move. So far, I’ve had novels set in France and Poland inspired by my travels and I have one out in April, which is set in Portugal and inspired by the time I spent in Lisbon last year.

The first novel in my new contract is going to be set in Lviv, Ukraine, inspired by the incredibly courageous and resilient people I met there last year. In our call, my editor and I talk about what I might write for the second novel. I want to write something sweeping, set across different time periods, and in my favourite town in America, Eureka Springs - where I took my first month-long solo trip, which in turn gave me the confidence to become a full time nomad. I finish the call buzzing with ideas, and once again so grateful for the opportunities I’m being given.

In the afternoon I receive the copy edit of my novel that will be coming out in April. The copy edit is the final edit in a book’s production, following the structural and line edits, which are done in-house, but most publishers use freelancers to copy edit their manuscripts. I’ve been lucky enough to have the same copy editor for all of my novels with my current publisher and she’s absolutely brilliant. Strictly speaking, the copy edit is about the finer details, like punctuation and grammar and sentence structure but my copy editor always brings that little bit extra, asking if maybe I could add a little here or there and pushing me to go just that little bit further.

I worked for many years as an editor and it was eye opening to see how precious some writers can be when it comes to taking notes, but I bloody love it! To me an editor’s notes always remind me of Rocky Balboa’s trainer yelling at him to punch harder or run faster.

Yes, sometimes I feel knackered and like I’ve got nothing left to give, but I sit my arse down and I push myself to keep raising my game with every draft of my books. And the feeling is so sweet when you realise that the editor was right, and that you absolutely could bring more to a certain character or scene.

In the evening I go to my nephew’s 11th birthday dinner (one of the main reasons I chose to stay in Margate this month was so I could be close to my sister and her family and my mum, who all live in a neighbouring coastal town).

My nephew has chosen Pizza Hut for his dinner and we have a lot of fun making the most of the bottomless drinks machine and salad bar. In honour of the birthday boy I decide to follow his lead in my food choices, filling my salad bowl with tortilla chips and bacon and onion bits, and not a green leaf in sight! On our second trip to the salad bar I discover a garlic mayo dip which makes the perfect glue to stick your bacon bits to your tortilla chip (do let me know if you want me to do a food-tips edition of Wonderstruck anytime soon!)

After our pizzas my nephew and I hotfoot it to the Bottomless Ice-Cream Factory where we go nuts with the toppings. Here is my creation…

After all the stress with the hospital and my dad it is SO great to have some fun family time together.

Friday

Every Friday I visit my dad. Now he’s out of hospital again this means going to his flat and doing his laundry and any other odd jobs, making his meals and hanging out.

This Friday is Valentine’s Day so I decide to bring him a single red rose. I’m hoping it will make him chuckle and remind him of the time I invited him to a lunch at my house years ago when I was living in London and I wanted him to meet a couple of incredible women I knew. One was a Ghanaian former model who was setting up a charity to help Ghanaian children learn to read and the other had worked in the film industry her whole life before reinventing herself as an artist at the age of 80. My dad, the old smoothie, turned up with red roses for each of us - a tale he still recounts as if it was his peak Don Juan moment!

But when I arrive with the rose it gets a distinctly muted response and it soon becomes clear that my dad is still reeling from the experience of being dumped onto a corridor and then discharged from the hospital without warning, and in such haste the staff hadn’t even bothered to dress him, leaving him in a hospital gown - which he asks me to burn when I find it in his laundry!

I try to mask my sadness and get busy doing the laundry and tidying up. Then his friend arrives and pimps up my dad’s walking frame with a handy holder to carry things in. My dad finally relaxes and his mood lifts.

After making his dinner I hotfoot it into town to meet up with my son and daughter-in-law for a meal at a new Ukrainian restaurant. It’s so nice to eat Ukrainian food again and I’m instantly transported back to my life-changing trip there last summer.

Over dumplings and my beloved potato pancakes and glasses of berry compote we have fun reminiscing about our time in Ukraine, before moving on to our dreams about the future and concerns about the war.

I make the long train journey back to Margate feeling so grateful that my son and his Ukrainian wife are now safe in the UK but really worried for the safety of her family and the friends I’ve made there.

Saturday

On Saturday I write this week’s (last week’s!) Wonderstruck about my minimalist wardrobe, which is a lot of fun.

Then I book a flight to Poland in April so I can return to Ukraine to research and work on my next novel. Now that my dad has a care package in place I’m going to risk leaving the country again, but for shorter trips so this time I’ll only be going for two weeks.

After three months in the UK it feels to good to book an overseas trip again and I can’t wait to go back to Ukraine and see my lovely new family there. As soon as they find out I’m coming my daughter-in-law’s dad insists on driving to the border with Poland to pick me up from the crossing. Yet another example of how warm and welcoming the Ukrainian people are and it motivates me even further to keep doing whatever I can to help raise awareness about what they’re experiencing in their fight to protect their freedoms.

In the afternoon my sister comes to visit. Just like having a fully functioning kitchen, being able to host people is a really fun novelty after 18 months of nomad-ing. I make a buffet-style lunch that we can graze on all afternoon and we talk and laugh and take it in turns to do oracle card readings, which is so much fun.

Sunday

I spend most of Sunday working on the copy edit of my next novel and it feels so nice to be putting the finishing touches to something that I’ve been working on for so long.

As I write the Acknowledgements I realise that I’ve worked on this book in so many different countries - Portugal, America, Scotland, Ukraine, Poland, Sweden, France and the UK, and making lovely friends in these places as I go.

So many names in the Acknowledgements wouldn’t be there if I hadn’t left the UK to go travelling because I never would have met these people. It’s such a heartwarming realisation.

My day is peppered with lovely messages and comments from readers of this week’s Wonderstruck about my minimalist wardrobe and I end the day on a wave of gratitude when I read an email from someone that says:

“I love your letters each Sunday. They make my whole week.” Which in turn, makes my whole week.

A week that started so badly and has been so worrying, but a week that has also made me see that I have so much, and so many people to be thankful for.

And in the end, that’s what counts, because that’s what lasts - not uppity doctors or uncaring nurses, but Love.

Thank you so much for being a part of the Wonderstruck community and for making my Sundays so enjoyable.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little sneak peek into my day to day life!

Siobhan