You are a writer and you know what that means: you don’t do it for the money. You don’t do it for the money, which is a great reason people have to not pay you for your writing. So it happens that you, a writer, invest your money in projects others will feature in their magazines, exhibitions, festivals, reading lists on the internet. You are an investor. You are building a diverse portfolio.

You are living a double life, a friend says to you, a friend who is trying to live a double life of her own and has called you for tips on double-life living. You are living a double life, one where at two p.m. you are in the office of a colleague who is getting paid upwards of two hundred thousand dollars a year and by half-past five you are polishing cutlery before the dinner rush. The dress you are wearing is shapeless and black, a look intended for wealthy women twice your age, a look intended for women who did not just pump the shit up out of a clogged toilet in the student lodgings they are temporarily living in. You are a writer and you know what that means: you are investing your money in your work, which in turn provides employment for other people. You say you are living a double life when you should say you are investing in a diverse portfolio. You are an investor.