Thursday, July 21, 2011

Yeovil Literary Prize 2011

I came in from work last night to find a letter waiting for me. Nothing unusual about that. Junk mail and bills multiply on my doorstep like grey hairs as I grow older. Except the envelope was hand-addressed, in a script I didn't recognise. Someone - not a machine - had taken the time to write to me. It was either something interesting or something awful (a letter from a neighbour asking me to attend their Stop the Mast meeting, a chain begging letter, another death threat, etc).

It was something interesting.

One of my novels has been short-listed for the Yeovil Literary Prize.


I haven't been writing for a few weeks, because I jacked my back (that's a technical term), so it was as good as having a nice little pat on the head and someone saying to me, 'You see, you're still a writer, even if what you do now is mainly jot down story ideas on your phone.'

To celebrate, I awarded myself a slap-up stir-fry dinner. I was all out of gold stars.

1 comment:

  1. Your work looks very interesting, AK. Glad I stumbled in here.