Don't quite know what to do with myself. Have stopped the work in progress for the moment until I hear what's happening. Am swinging between confidence that things will progress to the certain knowledge that confidence is dangerous and must therefore steel myself for the possibility that it could all go wrong. I don't even like writing that and might delete it, putting out negatives at the cusp of the moment when things are about to turn around and all that.... But there it is, nothing is sealed until it's signed. The recession jitters don't help.
A peek inside the world of children's fiction last week. Daughter and I were guests of author friend at The Branford Boase Awards held at Walker Books. As it was pouring with rain, partner gave me the cash for a cab. I couldn't, though, bring myself to hand over the rare wad of money filling my purse when a couple of bips of the Oyster card would get me there just as well. It was only a couple of blocks from the bus stop but I managed to get rat-tailed hair and, thanks to a classic van through puddle splash, soggy ankles.
I squelched in and made straight for the loos. I had my heels in my bag and I managed to dry my hair really quite well on the hand-dryer by putting my hand over my head into the heat every time it stopped. In the middle of this, a 20something PA clicked in in her black court shoes, all little black dress and glossy brown hair. She smiled with an amusement as smug as dry as dry smug can be.
Upstairs at the party it was all really interesting and inspiring. More colourful than the adult fiction crowd, fancy ties, bow ties, badges, some children, some eccentric hairstyles, a few fingerless gloves, hats, quite a few hats. The winner thanked her family for putting up with her endless, seemingly fruitless, bashings at her computer for hours on end. She said that whenever anybody asked what she did she said 'I'm an unpublished author,' loud and proud. Another good reality tick amidst all the publishedness wine and canapes was Philip Pullman's knowing 'me too' nod when, in the introductory speech, reference was made to the sometimes daily sludge of trying to get a few words onto the page.
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.