So I didn’t make the final shortlist of seven, out of thousands…how many thousands I wonder? The Richard and Judy search for a bestseller is over. The constant dreaming of seeing Dancing with Fireflies on WH Smith bookshelves is no more (well for the time being anyway). Its left me with a feeling of disappointment, hey no one likes rejection…but if I’m honest I have a little flutter of relief too.
The thought of sitting on The One show’s red sofa with Chris Evans and whatshername was giving me the willies..so at least I don’t have to do that! I will however be tuning in when they announce the winner, filled with admiration for the one lucky enough to win the fifty grand publishing prize and copious amounts of kudos (Oooh never written that word before!)
Back to the reality of being an unpublished writer with a large manuscript on my desk. I spy the Writers & Artists yearbook…lets get cracking.