For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had this thought in my head: if I was a celebrity, I’d actually _half-welcome it_ if my TV / movie / political career went south (or at least petered out), because I could then just write novels for a living.
Think of it in terms of being in a space-ship, and it gets wrecked in the middle of a battle, and you gotta quickly climb on board a _slightly, slightly_ smaller escape pod, but which is still a pretty cool spaceship in its own right, enough to get you from A – to – Z, doing your own thing, etc.
Look at it this way: no matter how disgraced you are, the public would still retain its fascination in your celebrity status, and also they tend to read any old tripe, therefore: GET WRITING, MY SON.
Jeffrey Archer invented it. And then there was Stella Rimmington, Andrew Marr, Cara Delevingne, Ethan Hawke. Good luck to ‘em frankly. But …Nadine Dorries. What’s going on?
Nadine Dorries MP, who obviously I like for being a bit-between-the-teeth Brexiteer –has branched out into writing the most ubiquitous, saccharine ‘granny’ novels. Think ‘People’s Friend’ turned up to the max but also somehow _dummed down_ to the point where you’d think she was deliberately being a cliché for comic effect.
Check it out. I’m not even lying.
Y’know. I’m not expecting you to write like David Peace or JG Ballard, but GOD ALMIGHTY, WOMAN! You’re a British MP, presumably elbow deep in tangible working class problems. What you writing this biscuit tin stuff for? Are you doing it for a bet?