30 Day Shred for Poetry, Plays, Novels

It's my birthday in November, a time when traditionally I hold a party at which I serve frozen vegetarian pizza from Lidl and cava from Sainsbury's, and wake with a crashing hangover to take stock of my life. Every September I'm filled with loving kindness for my future self, and I make plans to cram a year's worth of achievements into the following weeks so I can have a drink on my birthday without getting maudlin the next day.

I don't make New Year's Resolutions (too tacky!), though I do make promises to myself at the start of the year which I invariably fail to keep. A peek at the folders on my computer - as part of my September Stocktake - reveals one that's labelled Poems 2010. It's evidence of a long-forgotten 'write a poem a day' plan.

It started well enough: I wrote a poem entitled The Penitent on 2nd January 2010, which was about bending over the bath on New Year's Day to wash a lump of shit from where it had got stuck under the pad on my dog's right front paw, and how as I straightened up with my back aching, I felt like a member of a short-lived cult whose ridiculous rituals involved washing the feet of the undeserving, and how it wasn't a good start to the year. (Yes! How clever of you! It was based on real life.)

This was followed, on 3rd January, by a very jolly poem about courgettes. As I remember, the quality of the poetry wasn't important in the 'poem a day' plan. The aim was to write a poem a day no matter what. But after 3rd January, none followed. So I'm about 363 poems down, give or take.

And I always start the year intending to get a little sleeker so that I will look winsome in publicity photos and my books will fly off the shelves and my plays will get produced. Chuck Palaniuk's advice for writers is this: get your author photos taken when you're young and relatively attractive. It's brilliant advice. Take heed, young writers. The writing part of a writer's life is never so arduous as trying to look gorgeous.

Fortunately I have discovered a marvellous DVD called Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred, which was recommended to me on Twitter. Now, there's nothing that screams 'middle-aged woman' so much as doing an exercise DVD at home (except perhaps being overweight and drudgy-looking). However I really don't care because it turns out that by doing exactly what Jillian Michaels tells me to do for 20 minutes a day, every day for a month, I can drop a dress size. I started a few days ago and it really works. THIS is what I've been waiting for all my life, every time September comes around: a miraculous, fast-acting remedy for nine months of sloth.

Now all I need is a 30 Day Shred for my poetry, my play that I'm supposed to be writing, my novel that I'm supposed to be writing...

Jillian Michaels
I love your 30 Day Shred
Help me achieve more

There. That's a haiku. I'm not saying it's any good but I'm definitely counting it. 362 to go.