On New Year’s day, I woke up late, befuddled from lack of sleep and not at my sharpest – which, let’s face it, is slightly blunt at the best of times. One thing I did want to check and get out of my system before the day started was the newly posted short list for the 2016 Historical Novel Society Indie Award, on the very, very microscopic chance that I might be on it.
I sat at the top of the stairs in my dressing gown, clutching my iPad and calling to my long-suffering husband, who was unsuccessfully hiding out in the kitchen.
“Nah,” I muttered loud enough to reach him, as I did a speed-read of the nine short-listed names, “well, I never expected to be.” Then I took a closer look, and screamed loud enough to wake the dead, after which I flung myself upon my astonished husband and wept all over him – for there, in black and white, at the very bottom of the short listed names, was my own.
I spent the next few hours in shock. I’m usually a very bouncy person, who swings from the chandeliers at the slightest provocation – metaphorically speaking; even if we had chandeliers, I doubt they could take the strain. For once, I was left speechless!
But now I’ve got my voice back, and here I am, celebrating ecstatically. However, I couldn’t have got there alone. A rather important person cannot be left out, for without him, I would have had just a naked book. And it’s someone you all know and love – may I present my cover designer: that good old ape otherwise known as Chris Graham, who gave my bare pages a fab cover. So, cheers, Chris, I couldn’t have done it without you and my fabulous beta readers.
So there you have it. A dream really did come true. I hope all your dreams for 2016 have a happy ending too. HAPPY NEW YEAR to you all from a slightly befuddled me. CHEERS!