I am so, so enormously proud that The Glorious Heresies won the 2016 Baileys Women's Prize for Fiction. I am also bloody stunned. I have been having many thoughts about what it means to me to have won such a prestigious prize for my debut novel, but alas, I've told all of those thoughts to various and sundry lovely journalists and I don't have any left to spare for my blog. This might also be thanks to my resurgent and formidable Vitamin B12 deficiency, which has left me not much sense making and having tireds and foolish weaks. (A vegetarian for many years, I am now required to shove as many Vitamin B12-laden fish down my gullet as possible, which makes me very sad because I'm fond of living, swimming fish, so I'm rather like the walrus in The Walrus and the Carpenter, who laments the oysters grievously while he gobbles them.)
ANYWAY, seeing as I have no thoughts left, and am exhausted but happy as an entire convention of people named Larry, here is a photo of Bessie instead. Bessie is the name of the wonderful bronze lady presented to the winner of the Baileys Prize and she is heavier than she looks. I wonder if it's such a good idea to give me a substantial ornament as a prize. I mean, have you read Heresies? I do terrible things with ornaments in Heresies.