Change the Record

Thank goodness, a frost at last! The fire's stoked, Harrogate smells of mulled wine and cinnamon and I've had my first mince pie – or two. I love the change of season, love Christmas and never more so than this year.

I was just thinking that it was time to change the record, that I wanted to talk of something different to the thing-I'm-not-going-to-mention today. Then late one Friday night when I really shouldn't have been messing about on the pc but felt the urge to do yet more research into an all singing and, err, spinning, spinning bike to replace the tired one in my not very Homes and Gardens kitchen, an email plopped into my lap. It was from Black Pear Press and it hoped I would be pleased to know that my short story, Fly Joe, had been shortlisted in its annual short story competition. Pleased? I'd have screamed if the rest of the house hadn't been sleeping – as much out of relief as delight as I'd done my usual of convincing myself that the story was ridiculous and I'd been a fool to enter the competition. 

And then I learn that the story is to be published in their anthology, hopefully before Christmas. Who needs Christmas presents?  

Next I hear from the talented and oh so studious, Judith Arnopp, writer of intricately researched historical fiction, that she's awarded me the One Lovely Blog Award in recognition of bloggers who share their story or thoughts in a 'lovely' manner. Thank you, Judith, I'm honoured to have been chosen. Judith writes her own lovely blog packed with book reviews and news of her own seven titles which can be found here.

Something I must do when accepting the award is declare seven cool facts about me. However, in the absence of anything cool - embarrassing moments, on the other hand, give me a minute and I'll fill you a page -  I found myself rambling about my life, all 46 years of it. My seven points currently read more like a memoir. I shall spare you the read, as it's Christmas, and return with a pruned and smoothed version just as soon as I've written some Christmas cards, iced the cake – oh, baked the cake – finished present buying, made the Stollen (no, I'm buying the Stollen), and made more mince pies than I eat.

This is Jon Bon Jovi, not my husband...

One more piece of news before I go. I have had my first haircut. I sat for an hour, read my book, chatted and drank their tea. It was a most pleasurable step back into a more normal reality. It's funny the things you miss. The style is not one I'd have chosen but to use a writing analogy, I see it as a Work In Progress, an advanced enough draft to expose it to an audience, and a cue for me to wash and pack away my wigs. They've served me well but I'm oh, so tired of them now.  Even better, my husband has also had his hair cut and so for the first time in ten months, my hair is longer than his. He's not exactly Jon Bon Jovi himself, but it's a step in the right direction.

Have a great week! I'm off to prune my words.