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Ockham NZ Book Awards
Ok. Just one more sleep and I’ll be winging my way to Auckland. One more sleep, a flight and a taxi ride, and I’ll be ensconced in my Auckland hotel. One more sleep, a flight, a taxi ride and an ensconcement, and I’ll be wandering the streets of Auckland, trying to find a way of distracting my nerves – book shops are likely to be involved, (Unity Books, here I come!) and possibly the Auckland branch of The Fabric Store, but probably not a pub. Or two. Or seven.
Did I mention I’ve changed what I’m going to be reading? I’ve changed what I’m going to be reading. Did I also mention that the forecast for Auckland is not the balmy autumn weather that I was promised, oh no, but southeasterlies and a high of 16˚C. (That feels chilly for Auckland. Is that chilly for Auckland?) Never mind: good NZ merino to the rescue!
As you may have noticed, I’m a little on edge at the moment. Lurching from excitement to dread to what can only be described as a cross between The William Tell Overture and The Devil Went Down to Georgia going on in the dim recesses of my brain.
It’s going to be a huge amount of fun. And stressful, because I really want to acquit myself well, and hope is a wingéd thing that batters away behind my breastbone regardless of sober considerations. But I made it this far. Didn’t expect to, but am incredibly grateful that enough people love my book for this to happen. I’m going to be there, in the room, with three other fabulous poets, on equal terms.
tumble has made her own way into the world. Anything else is gravy.