This week I passed my Transfer Viva (hooray!) and then I went to London for an interview, a meeting and a very enjoyable dinner (during which I attempted to eat a fish as big as my arm and failed).
Best bits: meeting some lovely bookish people; a funny recorded message in the toilet on the train that asked passengers not to flush their hopes, dreams or goldfish down the toilet; check-in at my hotel which involved the woman at reception producing two hot chocolate chip cookies from under the desk (that's my kind of magic trick).
Worst bits: being propositioned by a man on the train who displayed the most spectacular lack of self-awareness I've seen in a long time; feeling small and parochial in London - fumbling with my tube ticket at the barriers; having no sense of geography or any idea about where various places are in relation to each other.
When I got home I discovered a package of American proofs. They are longer and thinner than the British proofs and consequently the novel looks shorter. It's all getting very real now but there's still a part of me that, during interviews or while I'm speaking about the book at meetings, is whispering, 'Can you believe this is actually happening? Can you believe you're actually sitting here?' (the answer is, 'no').