Lost for words

On Friday the 4th of May, I wrote a post about how I was so nervous of writing an entry for Maht of The Moon Topple's Great Big Awesome (short) Fiction Contest.

To be specific, I said:

I am a coward. I want to write something but ... but ... but. Yes. Paralysed by that internal chatter that informs me that it will be shit / boring / rubbish / cliched / nonsensical. Or, more likely shit, boring, rubbish, cliched nonsense.

So. Guess what?

I came first.

yuhuh! I really did! Really!

I can't quite believe it and I'm completely confused by how it happened. But most of all I am totally over-excited and hugely grateful to Maht for organising the festival, to all of you who put energy into encouraging me to take part, and to the other authors who wrote great stories and some of whom voted for me! Woo hoo!

There were some fab stories there. I particularly loved Ms Sign's horticultural chiller, Forget-me-not. I sort of feel like I must have fluked it, because I don't do that fiction-writing stuff. Perhaps that's the key - I've had 20 years to prepare for writing that one short story! I should surely quit now, before that difficult second album experience kicks in?

I actually ummed and ahed about whether to post here, or simply place my badge and be low key, and I thought sod it, I'm really chuffed, and my parents read my blog and they'll be dead chuffed as well, and deserve most of the credit for having put huge effort into encouraging us to read and write voraciously as children. And I'd like to thank my primary school teacher Mr Long, who taught me when I was 9, for being in favour of creativity and self-expression over spelling and neat handwriting.

So, er, I feel a bit shy, but you can read my story here. If you like. No pressure :)