So, my goodness; I’m on the Edge Hill Short Story Prize longlist…
I’m in some scary talented company on here. I’m on the same list as authors whose work I’ve read in awe; authors who review other people’s books for The Guardian; authors whose work has featured in the Times 100 Best Books of the Decade; authors who’ve previously been long-listed for the Orange Prize and the Booker (!!!); and my fellow Scott Prize winner AJ Ashworth, whose dark, beautiful collection “Somewhere Else, Or Even Here” is simply glorious.
All these brilliant people’s brilliant books. And then my book. My book! My book that I love. Here it is again, just because I love posting the cover that magically turned out to be exactly how I dreamed it would look, and because I probably need to do better at posting links to the Salt Publishing and Amazon pages where you can buy it from.
I’m trying to express how making the long-list feels, and the closest analogy I can find is that it’s like watching one of your children at Sports Day. Of course, you’d love it if they were in the medals. If they actually won, you’d die of pride. But basically, you’re just thrilled that they’re taking part. There there are, by themselves on the field with the big boys and the big girls; a proper citizen, out in the world.
Go, go, go, little collection of Fairy Tales! And remember, I’ll love you, no matter what.