It was just as well I opted for the easy 30 minutes - or more like 45 in the end - of the Society of Authors' awards in Southwark Cathedral as a livestream. It would have been hard work mingling away in person, and it's not as if I was up for any awards. Joanne Harris started the proceedings, and if she has any sense, then next year she will come with her own official whistler, to make people notice and to shut up. As it was, in the end someone did whistle, and there was some shutting up too.
And then it was Val McDermid's turn to give a keynote speech, and she is a wise quine of crime who wanted the shortlisted authors to bask in the glory of being shortlisted. Winning isn't everything, and this is worth remembering as you stand there, unprepared, thanking your cat instead of your agent. It took Val ten years to become an 'overnight sensation.'
There were eleven prizes, and it took quite some time to go through them all, even at a fast trot. Not everyone was present, but there were enough to sprint forward, shake Val's hand and pose for a photo. Someone sent her mother. I like mothers. And by the time Olaf Falafel won the Queen's Knickers award, he ignored instructions not to speak, and mentioned that he was wearing a borrowed pair of the Queen's knickers, just for the occasion. We didn't get to see them.
After all that, they all had to return on stage for the group photo. And everyone was told to buy all the books.
It was nice to see, and nicer for me being at home. Had looked forward to watching the BSL interpreter, but he was hidden behind the Society's address and other information...
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