I entered Bare Fiction's Flash Prize a few months ago, didn't get on the shortlist and had already enjoyed marking an X next to it in my submission diary (photo of that in last post). But I had an email yesterday to say I did make it onto the longlist of 30 out of 461. One of those 'close but no cigar' moments, which bring a mix of feelings. Ultimately good ones, though.
On my days off I've been enjoying a bit of time with my teenage diaries - here we are together.
Although I'm a writer and my other half is a musician I absolutely do not accept that I have somehow forced a life path identical to the way I thought it would be when I was 14. No. No. No.