To my dear Musers
I received the most joyous news on Sunday, however, when I first began reading the email I assumed that it was another ‘thanks but no thanks’ reply. It began with all the wonderful things about the entries, the judges, the calibre of the work – and at this point I nearly moved the email straight to my Rejections folder – and then they got to the great part. My manuscript that I have laboured over for about eight years was longlisted for their unpublished manuscript prize. I had to close and open the email and re-read it a number of times to believe it. What incredible joy I feel about this little old story getting a look in.
It’s a long way off from a publisher taking it on, but it is a win and is a metaphorical literary shot in the arm.
On the weekend, I decided to move things around in my office and remove the bookshelf that contained the antique books and family’s books so that I could have more room to work. In doing so, I needed to pull everything out of the bookshelf that was moving and this included my notebooks and diaries going a long way back. The notebook that floored me was the one I used when I was in India as a 20-year-old. Tucked in the back were all the letters that I received while I was there and my parents’ handwriting.
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