Chapter one
The newsroom
The UK Press Association and The Scottish Sun kept me busy for seven years. One week a murder trial, the next a royal engagement, the next a protest in the rain. At 25 it felt like the best job in the world.
Eventually I realised I'd never own anything. I was living month to month, finishing every one of them negative £1,000 into my overdraft. The pay topped out at a middling salary, and the irregular shifts were wrecking my health.
So I handed in my notice with no clients and no plan, except a sort of unwarranted belief I'd make it happen.






