chapter 2: in which Giv makes a life-changing decision
I’m moving to Glasgow. That’s right, people, I’m picking up sticks and moving. Away. Far away. I’m going to have an entirely different life – one which will be hard, one which may fail, one which may see me reduced to peddling my writerly wares to the lowest, most unethusiastic bidder. Essentially: I may fall flat on my face into the metaphorical shit. But, gosh dang it, I’m doing it. As you may remember, I’m a writer living in London: I have a great job, wonderful friends, a beautiful flat, and so on and so forth – so, on the surface at least, there’s no real reason to go. But going I am, because deeper down, there’s every reason to go. I may need to explain. Firstly, don’t get me wrong – London is awesome. Me and London are breaking up on totally amicable terms. The theatre, the opera, the food, the fun; it’s all grand. Really, London – it’s not you, it’s me. (Well, to be fair, it’s a little bit you – over …





