Two Months To Publication Day And The Best Has Happened... And So Has The Worst

Okay, so you've read the title of this blog and you're thinking: What a drama queen. Well, I'm not. I'm telling the simple truth.

Last month, in the week of the 22nd, I blogged about my experiences to date as a debut novelist, which mostly meant working hard at book number 2, but also involved getting my author photo taken... oh, yes, and dear old Amazon getting my name wrong.

Here I am a month later, again in the week of the 22nd and I was hoping to give you a jolly update, but unfortunately that isn't possible. I can start with a good thing, though - and not just good, but quite possibly the best moment of the whole process.

Because I did the copy edits more quickly than expected, this meant I was sent the proofs sooner than planned. It so happened that I was feeling rather fraught the day the email arrived with a socking great attachment plus a cheerful request to get working. My stress levels went through the roof, but I settled down and got started... and all at once, there was my title page.

Wow. Forget the stress: that evaporated on the spot. My very own title page. My first one. A wonderful moment. Pure goosebumps.

Working on the proofs was a complete delight. My proofs weren't sent to me on paper. They came via the computer, but being able to see what the pages will look like, I am proud to tell you that The Deserter's Daughter is going to be a handsome piece of book production. And I don't mind admitting I went back and looked at that title page more than once.

So - yes - the best moment... which was unfortunately followed by the worst. I have thought deeply about whether to share this, but I have decided that I will, because for me it feels such an important part of my journey to publication.

Auntie Barbara passed away unexpectedly last week. She was 94, so maybe it shouldn't have been unexpected, but it was. My late mum always said Barbara was 'a creaking gate' - meaning she always had some ailment or other, but she just kept on creaking. 'She'll outlive the lot of us,' Mum used to say - and she was right.

In her own generation, Barbara outlived Kathleen, Jessie, Gerald, Dennis, Bernard, Peter, Freddie, Greg, Beryl, Frank and Mark. The only one she didn't outlive was Auntie Colette, but in fairness to Auntie Barbara's staying power, I ought to point out that Colette is a whole decade younger.

Auntie Barbara was my biggest cheerleader. She was so pleased and proud about The Deserter's Daughter. Every time she saw me, she told me how she was going to go to the book shop on publication day and buy the first copy and after she had read it, she was going to write to the newspapers about it - her equivalent of posting a review on Amazon.

The last thing that Barbara did for me was to join with Colette to pay for my author photo; and I wore a crystal necklace that Barbara was given in the 1930s and which she passed on to me when I was in my teens.

And now she is gone. And while publication day is going to be a wonderful, exciting occasion, and one of the high points of my life, something unutterably special will be missing.