So, ignore the last post. Tomorrow Mills and Boon (damn them ) will be showcasing the almost-rans. "Watch this space" they trill far too cheerfully, "exciting news about the ten that didn't make it!" Those lovely, ego sustaining day dreams of tearful editors battling for my heartbreaking work of staggering genius to be included only to be cruelly over ruled by obviously corrupt/jealous superiors dashed.
To make matters even worse the week after they will publish the list of all those whose entries are so good editors want to ask them to submit despite not getting through. This is obviously brilliant as a marketing ploy, a way to keep us hooked and a chance to groom a whole new stable of eager, grateful writers. But not to be there, oh, the shame... I have coped (just) with not being Top Ten. I am working really hard on coping tomorrow when it is confirmed I wasn't even close but to fail Round 3 as well? Could be soul destroying.
Thank goodness I have the lovely Sophia Harrop and a new writers' group to fill me with zest and productivity and that elusive feeling, hope.