Those of you who know me reasonably well will know I’m a martyr to back ache, which I’ve suffered from for years, and which has recently laid me very low indeed. Causes are multiple, and include:

a) Often carrying a large and heavy load of books around with me in the hope that I might sell a few, and therefore make my poetry pay for itself instead of being what my brother describes as a ‘pointless hobby’. If it doesn’t earn you hard cash then he doesn’t see the point of it – although over the past year I’ve detected a hint of pride when he tells people I write and that I’ve had several collections published. This has clearly had an impact on my back (lugging heavy books around, not my bro’s attitude to literature!).

b) Spending most of my waking life inactive physically, either at my computer earning a crust at the day job; poetry’s lovely, but doesn’t pay the rent, so I have to rely on being a fund-raising consultant to keep my creditors at bay (If you know anyone who needs a fundraiser, do let me know…I’m reasonably priced and house trained!). This has led to what Jane Wenham-Jones describes as ‘writer’s bottom’, the spreading of the glutinous maximus due to lack of exercise coupled with copious amounts of inspirational cake, cheese on toast, or other snacks. As any writer knows, snacking is really a displacement activity, as the one thing writers really don’t like doing is starting the process of writing, especially when a whole afternoon of glorious telly beckons. Once you’ve started, of course, it’s OK, although distraction is easy and frequent. I’ve even been known to do housework to delay the hour at which I have to put pen to paper, and if I turn on the t.v. I might as well stop pretending. That’s why I go out of the house to write, so I’m forced to actually do it instead of watching re-runs of ‘Walker, Texas Ranger’

c) Being a cheapskate and using a naff kitchen chair when at my computer, instead of investing in a proper office chair. This last point is/was the clincher. So when my back totally seized up a few weeks ago, crippling me so I couldn’t actually get out of bed, let alone walk without groaning in pain, I realized I had to get a proper chair, or the back would be buggered forever. At least that’s what the osteopath said. So because I always do what I’m told (!) I hobbled to Hubbards for Cupboards in the Gray’s Inn Road, to check out the chairs, otherwise my modest career as writer would be over and the novel would never get finished.

I saw The Chair immediately I walked into H4C, and when I sat in it, I recognized it was The Most Comfortable Chair in the World. Not only did I have to buy it to save my back, my writing and the day job, but I wanted to marry it and have its’ babies. A lovely young man called Daniel showed me other chairs in different colours and styles. But no, I had fallen for The Chair, and no other seat would match up to the sheer comfort of its royal upholstery. I almost relented when Daniel told me how it cost, but with a bit of negotiated and quite a lot of outrageous flirting on my part (I’m not so long in the tooth yet I don’t still enjoy a good flirt!), we came to an agreed discounted price. Arrangements were made for it to be delivered the next day, and casting a last loving look at My Beloved Chair, I left, still hobbling, but with the anticipation of ease and comfort to come.

True to arrangements it was delivered on time and with the minimum of fuss, I am now the proud owner of The Most Comfortable Chair in the World – ask Dzifa Benson…she sat in my chair for a few moments, and I practically had to prize her out of it with a crow-bar! My writing career is saved…hooray…and I now have even less of an excuse to finish that long-delayed novel.

Now all I need to do is invest in some new glasses, so can actually see what I’m writing.

Don’t forget the next Loose Muse is on December 12th. Hope to see you there, and who knows, I might even have written a poem about chairs!

Come share the passion, share the joy!

Agnes