...Or, Dreams Can Come True (aaaaah)
There followed an illuminating correspondence with my very talented editor, Kate Davies, and later I was sent the roughs of the illustrations that would accompany my text. It was all the Kates! Me, my editor and then Kate Leiper, the illustrator. (Please check out Kate L's website to see some of her incredible artwork).
Anyhoo, it all died down on the action front, until this plopped into my Inbox.
I won't pretend it didn't present a Fairly Scary Logistical Nightmare. I will, however, pretend that a very large part of that FSLN was not down to me because I am terrified of travelling generally - but especially in London. I know. Lame.
Anyhoo, the combination of the lovely Mr W, and my awesome friend the lovely Mrs B, meant that Cinderella not only went to the ball, but that she was chauffeur driven almost to the door and her children were fed, collected, dropped off and collected in various combinations.
It was a very interesting night - talking to Publishing Folk and the Other Winning Authors and their Illustrators. Sadly Neil Gaiman wasn't there - not that he was supposed to be, I just always hope he might turn up somewhere I am so that I can generally fawn over him and gush about how entirely brilliant he is. I also imbibed a couple of delicious Elderflower Spritzers. Don't ever suggest I don't know how to live.
|Just one of the reasons I love NG so|
There were hundreds of copies of the Bedtime Stories Book around, which was exciting because I hadn't seen it yet. There were a couple of speeches, which were very nice. There was a lot of being made to feel welcome. And there was a fair amount of me sticking out like a sore thumb because I'm not overly good at the socialising/small talk stuff and several times found myself in the middle - yes, the middle - of the room all on my ownsome. Bless the dear sweet folk who spotted me and came over to chat.
Then the Winning Authors were asked to huddle up for a Group Photo. Always awkward as not many people want to thrust themselves front and centre. Although my old Sixth Form photo would suggest that there was a time when I was not only happy front and centre, but also a bit of an arse (along with my old partner in crime, the delectable Haze).
Digressing just a little there, and indeed here ...
I have long been of the belief that I sometimes become invisible (bear with me). Not in a sad tell-me-I'm-not kind of way - in an actually going invisible kind of way. Sadly it is out of my control and therefore cannot be deemed a Super Power - and, disturbingly - it often affects my car too.
To recap - I, and my car, can turn invisible. There can be no other explanation* for the times I have been 'un seen' - sometimes to my detriment, sometimes to my great good fortune.
When I eventually found a copy of the Aforementioned Group Photo (via Mumsnet's Twitter account I think) I realised that - Lawks a'Lordy - in my moment of triumph invisibility had only gone and struck again.
I squinted and I peered. I took off my glasses, I put on my reading glasses. I put my contact lenses in. Try as I might I could find no sight of me. I had ended up smack in between the two blonde ladies on the right hand side of the photo and they had, between them, obscured me completely.
Then I realised that rather than being sandwiched between two blonde ladies - I was one of them!
I feel I must explain, lest you think me quite unhinged, that I am not now, nor have I ever been Blonde.
Then it occurred to me that this Invisibility Trick of mine is pretty darn awesome if I can't even pick my own good self out of a line-up. **
If I could only harness this power and use it for good ...
*okay there probably can.
** it also occurred to me that I probably should have taken my cardigan off. I am obsessed with cardigans, but really, sometimes they just need to go.