It was strange to travel from Northampton to London yesterday, to have lunch with a bunch of people I’d never met before.
It wasn’t until I walked into the restaurant hoping I ‘d recognise someone, anyone from their Twitter photo, panic flooded through me. This could be a disaster. The temptation to run out the door and head to Oxford Street to do a bit of shopping instead was immense.
Instead I shrugged my coat off, summoned a smile, and wondered whether it was too early to start drinking.
Within seconds any tension I’d felt dissipated. Everyone was far lovelier than I’d hoped and understood, in a way my non-writer friends can’t, the joy of finishing a novel, the wrench of leaving characters behind, the fear of starting something new and the feeling of falling in love all over again when writing another book.
The hours flashed by without any awkward silences at all. I came away feeling super inspired and I can’t wait to do it again.
And a big thanks to Debra Brown for arranging it all.